“That’s my good boy.” He stepped around behind me, and I let my eyelids flutter closed as the tails rattled softly against each other. This was going to hurt so good.
And I was going to endure every sting and bite, with my hands still bound. No safety release. I wanted this.
I opened my eyes again and let my gaze land on the rope coiled on the bed. The phantom scrape of rope on my wrists tingled beside the cold, vaguely sharp edges of the cuffs. Fuck, I wanted him totieme. I wanted to be fully bound, with no way out except for him to untie me or cut me loose.
God, yes.
And the last clear thought I had before the flogger bit into my shoulder was that I wanted Devon’s ropes on my skin.
CHAPTER 28
DEVON
His trust was breath-stealing.
Awe-inspiring.
Fucking terrifying.
“I’m going to remove the cuffs.”
His gaze shot to mine. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Non, cher. Not at all.” I willed him to understand. “I want to tie all of you—starting with your hands. You’ll understand as I do this. I want to see you covered in my ropes.” I dropped the handcuffs on the mattress. Then I snagged the shears. “Seconds, okay? It takes seconds for me to get you free.”
“I understand.” He held his gaze on the shears. “Thank you.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.” I gazed at the ceiling and pretended to evaluate. “Too bad I can’t suspend you.”
His eyes bugged. “You mean…like…”
“Off a frame? Or from a ceiling designed for that? Hell, yes. I love suspension. But only in the right circumstances. I understand the kink club in Vancouver has several frames. And rope bunnies galore.”
“Rope bunnies?” He said that on a laugh.
“Men and women who loved to be tied and suspended.”
“I’ve, uh, watched videos.” He gestured to himself. “I’m too big.”
“Nope. I’ve suspended someone heavier. The key is to put the ties where they won’t bite into your skin. Well, unless that level of pain is your jam and, as frequently happens with us, we’re offtrack.”
“Right.” He tried to wipe the grin off his face. “Why am I laughing?”
“Nerves.” I caressed his chin. “And the fact you’re remembering I said BDSM could be fun.”
He leaned into the touch. “You make me less scared.”
“I’m glad.” I grasped my emerald-green rope. “Not as coarse as others—but it has some bite if I go tight.”
He swallowed. “Yes. Tight.”
“Okay. Let’s get on the floor.”
“Sure.” He didn’t sound certain.
I knew what I was doing.
A fluffy mat covered the plush carpet. So still a solid surface, but nicer than the hardwood in other rooms.