cue. As he did it, Rory kissed the back of her neck. “That rope is the same as my hold on you,” he murmured. “Only mine. Everywhere on your body. Do you feel it?”
She nodded. She was doing that shallow breathing thing, the right kind. It was only then he noticed the Dungeon Master had moved on, another vote of confidence. Whether that confidence was in Des or Rory, Rory would take it.
Rory hooked his fingers in the double wrap beneath her shoulder blades to make space to thread the two ropes through. Mindful of Des’s instruction, he took up all the slack, aware of when that pressure compressed against her sex, against the rim of her backside, even with the thin folds of cloth between them. This time the tiny sound that came from her was unmistakably desire. Her hands curled in their bindings, meeting knuckle to knuckle, like furled flowers. He could see them against his lap, because her chin shifted to the left, her cheek pressing against them.
Des moved back to Julie. She’d left the bench to sit in the grass, her legs folded to one side as she braced herself on her hip. When Des stood beside her, his knee was pressed against her shoulder. His hand fell to it to play with her hair, brush his knuckles over her cheek. Partly a reassurance, because this had probably been as stressful to her as it had been to Rory. They were all invested in the well-being of the incomparable woman he was wrapping in rope. But she was his responsibility, and that was the way he wanted it.
“Have her straighten up on her knees, and wrap the remaining rope around her calves,” Des said. “Down to her ankles and around the soles of her shoes.”
Rory spoke that direction to her and Daralyn lifted her upper body off his lap, straightening her back. Her position meant he could press his shoulder against her torso, curl an arm around her waist and use her to brace himself as he leaned down and worked the ropes around her calves and shoes one-handed to finish it off.
Her bound hands gripped his shirt, the pressure of her hold containing not only the urgency of her arousal, but also a steadying grip. He wasn’t the only one watching out for the person he was with. It invoked a powerful mix of feelings in him, too.
He sat back to look upon his handiwork. She was tied from shoulders to her ankles. If she really struggled, the ropes would give enough to let her get free, but there wasn’t much chance of that. Except for the brief flex of her fingers, releasing him as he straightened, she was as still as he’d ever seen her.
Rory glanced at Des. He pointed to his own eyes, Rory’s. “Look at me, Daralyn,” Rory said.
Her lashes fluttered and lifted, and he was looking into the eyes of a wild animal. One who’d suddenly become tame, not through being broken, but from finding the hand of the Master she craved.
Maybe before coming here and being immersed in a world where people spoke in those terms so easily, he wouldn’t have put it that way in his head, but now he couldn’t call it anything else. When he ran a finger over her mouth, she kissed and nuzzled it eagerly. He slid the hand into her hair, holding tight as he brought her closer, dipped his head to put his mouth on her throat. Then he bit her.
A savagery he hadn’t experienced before rose within him. As he tightened the clamp of his jaw, she was pressed against him, curled fists gripping his open shirt again, latched on as fiercely as he was to her flesh.
It took a big effort to recall himself enough to realize they were doing this in front of Des and Julie, but then he realized they weren’t. Des had helped Julie to her feet, and they were already a distance away, wandering off toward the gardens.
Now he’d say what was in his gut. What he felt. And he’d say it, not as some gentle reassurance, but the way the kind of man he was would. The kind of Master he was would.
“I will never, ever share you with another man, Daralyn. Not ever.”
Her hazel eyes flared with brilliant emotion, but he didn’t stop. “Reason one? I’m a very possessive, very monogamous kind of guy.”
He held her fast, letting her feel the strength behind the statement.