was here to be in Rory’s corner as much as Daralyn’s, especially if Rory was doing everything he could to keep his sub safe.
Rory nodded to him, acknowledging it, and returned his attention to Des. “Two things. First, I don’t want to put her down quite yet. Will you help me get my chair over there?”
He tilted his head toward another section of grass, the right distance away from where she’d thrown up.
“Sure,” Des said. “Just tell me what to do.”
Rory tilted his chair back into Des’s capable hands, and helped push so the two of them were able to put the chair where it needed to be without taking Daralyn out of his lap.
“That’s one thing,” Des said as Rory settled. “What’s the second?”
“Will you walk me through the rest of it?” Rory asked.
“Sure thing.” Des’s eyes gleamed. He squeezed Rory’s shoulder a subtle, strong gesture expressing full understanding of both what Rory was feeling and trying to do for his sub.
“I’m going to finish what Des was showing us,” Rory told her. “But it will only be my hands on you. All right? I need to hear words.”
“Okay. Yes. Yes, Rory.”
He touched her face. “Why don’t we make that a little more formal?”
He’d surprised her that time. Her gaze flicked up, then back down. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He gently guided Daralyn back down on her knees before him. He ran a thumb over the scar on the underside of her forearm, where the rope overlapped it. No redness.
“Does this chafe here?”
She shook her head. “No, sir.”
“Good. It’s important you tell me if anything is uncomfortable, because that interferes with what I want to happen. Understand?”
She nodded, her shoulders easing further. He repeated what Des had done, working the double wrap over her upper arms, drawing her wrists to her chest. Des walked him through how to do the smooth-lying twist in the back. It held the rope in position without putting an uncomfortable knot against her spine. When he did that part, he had to press Daralyn forward, her head briefly resting against his chest, her hands in his lap, then he eased her back to her heels to continue the rope tying in front.
Her eyes were full of confusion, some apprehension, and yet also a longing that told him whatever was going on right now, she didn’t want him to stop. A new tension was back in her shoulders and upper body. The right kind.
Since he’d caught up to where they were before, he looked toward Des. “What was next?” he asked.
The loose way Des kept his long dark hair tied back framed his lean face, emphasizing the intent expression. “Pass the two ends of the rope between her legs, on the outside of the labia, and then run them between her buttocks. You’ll be fastening the ropes to the double wrap high on her back. The skirt’s thin enough it should be able to just fold down beneath the rope’s hold at her waist and lower back.”
Rory did it, finding his way beneath the filmy layers of her skirt to her panties. He caressed her there, the silk and lace, before he passed the rope on either side of her labia.
Though not as smooth and practiced as Des, that was okay. The pleasure of this wasn’t about getting caught up in technique or the complexity of the design. It was about taking his time, letting his hands slide intimately over her, registering her every reaction to him binding her, including the way she leaned into his touch as he did it.
Since he’d left his shirt open, her breath fluttered against his chest. When he had to press her further forward toward him to reach behind her, her lips brushed his chest, sending tendrils of sensation through him, all the way from waist to earlobes.
His hands tightened on her, and that possessive response caused her to nuzzle him, taste him with the tip of her tongue. Her behavior told him she was headed back toward that trancelike state she’d demonstrated when she’d been watching the scenes…or when he’d first wrapped her hands. A hazy zone of desire and need. She was back on track, and he was right there with her, watching her reaction grow with everything he did to her.
Des was moving around them, a wide circle, giving him further direction and tips in an unobtrusive tone. “Make it snug. Let her feel her Master’s hold, his ownership, on her hands, her body, between her legs.”