Sizzle (St. Martin Family Saga): Emergency Responders (20 page)

She smiled, knowing he was right. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

“Yes, but I’m reluctant. Still, I need to say it. So… I started going to the club because I could easily find women there who’d let me bind them, at least for a few minutes, and who could handle me letting go. I didn’t have to worry about hurting them; some actually liked pain. I didn’t have to worry about a relationship. I didn’t have to worry that if we broke it off that they’d trash my reputation around town because of my sexual preferences. But I discovered that a lot of the women at the club, women like Pamela, have deeper issues they’ve yet to come to terms with. I still went to the club, still had sex with them and enjoyed it for the physical release, but I started to not like myself very much.”

He tipped his forehead against hers.

“And then you came along, taking care of an ill neighbor during a hurricane, sitting in the stormy dark in your short shorts, your gray eyes big and trusting when Jack and I came back to get you. The first time I saw you I wanted to bind you. Wanted not the temporary release of the faux bondage of the club, but the soul-deep and overwhelming sensuality of kinbaku.” He sucked in a whistle and then said, “Don’t get mad, but my dick went hard at the first sight of you. And when you knelt down in front of your neighbor, asking her a question and picking her pills out of the carpet, all I could picture was you kneeling before me, bound—so that you were receiving pleasure, and so you’d get turned on—while at the same time you sucked me dry.”

Eve laughed softly. “How can I be mad to know that you want me? That’s a pretty heady thing to hear. I’m glad you like my body. I’m glad you want to have sex with me.”

She cleared her throat. “And I want you to bind me. But I admit that while the idea of bondage excites me, it scares me some too.”

His eyes simmered with boundless possibilities. “Of course it does—that’s part of the attraction. Here’s the thing, though—you won’t be able to attempt it unless you trust me with your body and with your life. You must be one hundred percent sure. When you are, if you ever are, let me know. I’ll be waiting.”

15

I
t had been
four days since they’d heard from her sister and Augie. Clay had told her not to worry, but Eve was going stir crazy at the house. When Clay worked days he would come home during his lunch hour so that they could be together. Today she decided she’d employ a distraction tactic to keep her mind from wandering. She’d not been able to stop thinking about kinbaku and Clay’s breathy words in her ear. She wanted to do it, and she thought it would be a stimulating surprise if she told him on his lunch hour so he could bind her then.

Instead of making his standard deli sandwich, she was going to present him with rope.

She researched the art of kinbaku and bought red hemp, thinking it would look attractive against her skin. She’d also picked up a pair of black stilettos. She had about five minutes to get into position, so she quickly pulled her hair up and pinned it into a bun. She took her clothes off and slid her feet into the impossible shoes. She added pink lipstick and gloss and some blush. In one hand she mixed a little baby oil with some lotion—a scent she knew Clay liked—and smoothed it over her arms, legs, breasts, and bottom. She picked up the red rope from the bed, catching her reflection in the mirror. She placed her hands on her hips and spun. “Well what do you think Cookie? Not too bad hmm?” The dog barked in response.

Eve seemed more sophisticated than the girl she’d known. Funny, Nicolas had always tried to force her to be that way and Clay hadn’t said a word about it, but she’d flourished with Clay and would continue to do so. Nicolas had drained her, but Clay fed her. The difference was as clear as the finest glass.

She walked slowly to the dining table, not wanting to break an ankle, and sat on the edge of a chair with her knees together, the rope—looped into a figure eight—resting on the table in front of her. She hoped Clay brought his appetite to lunch.

*

Clay whistled as he unlocked the front door. He’d been whistling a lot lately, and he knew why: he loved Eve. But it wasn’t just that—love didn’t even encompass what he felt for her. He was always in a hurry to get back to her. Case in point, he’d been coming home for lunch every day. The guys at the station had teased him until he’d told them if they had an Eve waiting, they’d be whipped too. They’d all agreed. He was busy looking through the mail as he approached the kitchen.

“Babe, I’m home.” He continued to thumb through the letters. “Junk, junk, junk.” He dropped the bills onto the table and petted the top of Cookie’s head. That’s when he saw the rope. And then he saw her. Posed with her hands on her knees, wearing stilettos, no less. She was fucking perfection. And he was breathless. His mouth opened, but he closed it without speaking. His hands automatically reached for the rope, and he inspected the feel of it between his fingers while he stared at the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. That was
all
he could do since she’d rendered him speechless.

“Welcome home lover. I thought you could bind me with this hemp rope.” Eve picked the end up and waved it in the air. “And then I thought I would make us some lunch. The red will look particularly pretty against my skin. What do you think?”

The little minx had him, and she knew it. He felt a ridiculously large and revealing smile break across his face, and he couldn’t hold back a laugh. She joined him. His mind immediately filled with images of Eve wrapped in the rope and his laughter faded, replaced by desire and need.

“Get on your knees.” He went to the living room and snatched a pillow from one of the recliners and returned to the kitchen to drop it on the floor next to her.

He walked to the utility room to get the heavy shears while he waited for her to get comfortable. He let Cookie outside and was aware that he already had a huge boner and wasn’t quite sure how he’d get through the process of tying Eve.

But this was his fantasy come to life, and no way would he rush through it. For him, much of the satisfaction would come from touching Eve, from wrapping her in the rope. From making sure that she would be stimulated.

From knowing she’d be going crazy with lust and thinking about him the whole time.

Walking back into the kitchen, he could see her on her knees, her bottom resting on her heels. He ached to have her now, but there was no way he would put a halt on this process.

He picked up the rope. Traditional kinbaku didn’t condone the use of dyes in the rope, but she’d picked it out because she thought it would be pretty and that was special to him. He stood before her so she could watch his actions.

He started out making the anchor knots that would run down her chest, torso, and waist.

“This is called a karada or rope web. It resembles a tortoise shell once it’s completed.” Once he had the three anchor knots in place, he put the rope over her head with the knots draping down her front.

“Go up onto your knees.”

When she moved, giving him room to work, he pulled the loose ends of the rope through her labia and up between the luscious lobes of her ass. She gasped, and he watched her chest rise and fall in rapid succession. He then hooked each piece around the rope at the front of her neck and pulled it through to hook under the rope at her back, culminating at the front anchor knots just under her breasts.

She responded beautifully and was breathing heavily, her mouth open slightly. She hadn’t experienced anything yet—having her walk would be pleasurable for both of them. He repeated the same series, this time weaving the ends around the rope at her back and pulling them through the anchor knot at her waist. Once she was sufficiently trussed, he checked to make sure the tension wasn’t too severe, given it was her first go-round, and he tied the rope off in a small bundle directly on her clit.

He stood back and took in her beauty. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea—he wanted her to the point he was in pain. She was raw sexuality in the flesh, the strategic bindings around her body hinting at playfulness and discipline, tenderness and torture, freedom and captivity, giving and taking. He ran his hands over her breasts and torso.

“How’s the tension?”

She was in a trance-like state and either didn’t hear him or couldn’t talk. He placed her jaw in his palm.

“Eve, how’s the tension?”

“It’s good.” Her voice was raw and scratchy.

“Baby, thank you for this. You don’t know what looking at you, seeing your trust, is doing to me.”

She sighed. “But I’ll find out.”

With a finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his and kissed her sweet lips. “I want you to imagine the pressure you feel around your breasts”—he used his fingertips to lightly sweep the areas as he mentioned them—“waist, abdomen, and here”—he split his index and middle finger into a V and traced around the rope at her vagina“—are my hands, my fingers, encompassing you, rubbing you, bringing you closer and closer to that place you desire.”

A harsh groan escaped her mouth, but it seemed to come from deep within her. Her hands cupped her mouth immediately.

He squeezed her breasts roughly and growled at the feel of the rope encircling them His forehead fell to hers. He locked her fingers in his. “I want you so bad right now, but you need to focus on your body. Focus on what you’re feeling and regulate it. I’ll do the same. Can you do that?”

“I think so.” Her voice was a breathy whisper that had his cock twitching.

“The shears are on the table for you. If you can’t bear it, cut here and here and you’ll be freed. Got it?”

She nodded. “Got it.”

“I love your shoes.” His fingertips ran along her thighs, and he watched as the skin across her chest and breasts pimpled.

“Thank you.” She leaned in and sucked his lips. He let her lead and opened for her. She explored his mouth with her hot wet heat. The mewls coming from her throat were going to kill him. She was so sweet, and her hands were kneading him that way she did, the way that had him wanting to touch her back.

To refocus them both, he grasped her hands, stilling them. “Hey, are you going to make me a sandwich?”

“Are you ready?”

“No, but if I eat, at least one of my appetites will be fulfilled.”

She kissed his chin and clicked over to the refrigerator in her heels, stopping midway to glance back at him. She really was trying to kill him. He went to the bedroom and pulled a dress from the closet, one that would easily slip over her head and shield her body from his view so that his heart wouldn’t explode at the tender age of thirty-five.

He walked up to her in the kitchen and held the dress out. “Let’s cover your beauty with this so I don’t have a heart attack. What do you say?”

“Might help your situation here too.” She grabbed his crotch and fisted his bulge before lifting her hands so he could pull the dress over her.

“Unfortunately, it won’t. The only thing that’s going to help
that
is being anywhere inside of you.”

They ate the sandwiches she made, and he watched her squirm in her chair the entire time.

“Are you going to be able to tolerate it?”

She froze. “I think so. It’s just that when I move, it, um, the rope, it…” Her stare burned into him.

“It brings you to the edge but you can’t quite go over.”

She cocked her head. “That’s exactly it.”

“I’ll leave you with a tip for the afternoon—stop squirming.” He stood, kissed her head, and stroked through her hair. She followed him to the door.

“It’s easy for you to say, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t dampen the chuckle her attitude pulled from him. His girl was on fire. “What’s that?”

She thrust one hand to her hip. Leaning forward, she pushed her index finger into his chest. “You don’t have to suffer as I do with a rope tied tightly around your balls.”

“Do you not see the huge boner I’ve been sporting? Trust me, rope is not necessary to torture me.”

“Are you saying you’re not going to bang one out in the bathroom when you get to the station.”

He shook his head, placed his arm around her back, and pulled her close. “Never.” He positioned her hand on his erection, trapping it under his own. “This is for you. I’ll be thinking of you all afternoon.” He kissed her lips and walked out the door.

*

Eve spent the day waiting for Clay’s return. Waiting for her release. Waiting for the agony to end. She was obsessed with the possibilities the night held as they played in her mind like a movie. She needed to occupy her time with something that didn’t require too much movement and that could keep her mind, as much as possible, off her body. She loaded her email and thankfully she had about seventy-five requiring a response.

The longer she sat at the desk, the more intense the pressure became. It wasn’t painful, but she was majorly oversensitized. She managed to get through about half the emails before needing a break. It was already four o’clock, so she decided lying flat might bring her some relief. “Come on Cookie, let’s take a nap.”

With the dog next to her, she lay across his bed with a book and began to read. Unfortunately it was a highlander romance novel and didn’t distract her a bit.

“Ugh!”

She rolled onto her side and pulled her hands underneath the cool, crisp pillow.

Dreams of Clay touching and kissing her bombarded her semiconscious mind. His caress seemed so real, so sensual, but that was impossible. She moaned into his mouth as he massaged her breasts and squeezed her nipples. The kiss grew deeper and rougher. Then she felt his fist tug her hair a little too hard, and her eyes flew open.

She couldn’t breathe, so she broke the kiss and inhaled deeply on a sigh. “Clay. God, I need you.” Her hands went to his head, and she tugged him with all her might against her body.

She frantically tried to rub herself against him, but he held her back.

“Easy, baby. I’m going to take care of you.”

“I need you inside me now!” She clawed at his shoulders.

“Do you trust me?” He pulled her back so that they were eye to eye.

“You know I do.”

“I need to talk to you about what’s going to happen next.”

She felt her eyes grow wide. “Talk? You want to talk now after that kiss and after I’ve been waiting forever?”

He simply nodded. Eve blew out a long, whining breath.

“Okay, what’s next?”

“I’m going to bind you more than you already are. I’ll loosen these”—he tapped the knots around her chest, abdomen, and sex—“and use the rope to bind your arms and legs. I’ll be inside you, baby, but you’ll be at my mercy. Let me know now if you’re not in agreement.”

She shivered in anticipation. “I want all of it.”

He smiled and brushed her cheek with his thumb. His eyes were the color of the sea at night. And she was drowning in them.

“If you need me to stop at any time, say the words and I’ll stop. I need to hear you say you understand that. No trying to please me if you’re uncomfortable. You say when—you have the control.”

She reached her hand up to his face and cupped his cheek in her hand. “I understand. I trust you with my life and my body.”

He set her on her knees in the bed, and she immediately felt the ropes loosen as he pulled at the knot at her core. She gasped out in relief. Just the brush of the rope against the most sensitive part of her was driving her mad. He let out the rest of the rope, and then he pulled her wrists together in front of her and bound them snugly. They held eye contact the entire time. The intensity and heat she saw in his eyes mesmerized her.