The Plume: The Second Anthology (29 page)

Rex watched, intrigued by her. He’d never met
anyone who was like him.

Not really.

Leya seemed to guess his thoughts. “We both
like to ritually bind people, too,” she continued. Rex nodded. Leya
unfastened the front of her jeans and peeled them off her hips,
pushing them down her legs with her hands. She took forever with
their removal, as if she enjoyed feeling the denim slide over her
skin. She was leisurely in removing her panties, too, her movements
reminding Rex of a strip-tease. Her pubic hair had been waxed away,
something Rex had noticed the night before, and her sex was red and
full again.

Slick.

He caught his breath at the sight, knowing
his reaction wouldn’t be a secret to her. He was standing nude in
the shower, after all, and he was facing her.

He loved the golden hue of her skin, and the
darkness of her eyes. She looked exotic and alluring.

Leya tossed her jeans toward her sandals then
studied him. “What do you think about bonds?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do they symbolize?”

Rex had never thought of bonds as
symbols.

Leya clearly had. “Do you create a net that
confines your intended? As if he or she is prey to be captured and
restrained? Or do you create a setting for him or her, to exhibit
your prize like a jewel?”

Rex thought about the process of binding, the
satisfaction of lining up rows of rope or ribbon. He liked spacing
the knots so they looked best, and ensuring that the charms of his
captive were shown to advantage. “A setting,” he said, surprised
that he’d never thought of it that way.

“Or is it a web of desire, one that draws the
eye to the heart of the matter?”

Rex thought of the times he’d bound a slave
so that her sex was displayed and available. A ruby in the middle
of his ropes or ribbons. “It can be that,” he admitted, feeling his
body harden.

“But who is really bound by the exercise?”
Leya asked softly and he looked at her with surprise. He couldn’t
see her expression because she crossed her arms in front of herself
in that moment, and tugged her T-shirt over her head. The move
freed those breasts and they bounced slightly.

Rex stared and her nipples tightened.

“Is it the victim who is the real captive?
Trussed and wriggling?” she asked as she strolled around the
shower, turning on each faucet in turn. “Or does the master bind
himself to his victim, shackling them together with every knot and
length of rope?”

“Both,” Rex admitted, his mouth dry. “But
almost no one realizes that.”

The room filled with steam and the sound of
running water. When she began to stroll him, he felt as if she was
coming out of the mist.

To seduce him.

The water beaded on her skin and reflected
the light, making her look jeweled once again. She could have been
adored with a million opals, each catching the light. Her nipples
were dark and tight, her breasts inviting his touch. He was
enchanted by her, yet at the same time was wary.

She seemed to understand him too well. What
would happen if he touched her, if he surrendered to this
temptation? There was something unpredictable about Leya, something
Rex sensed could change his world.

He wasn’t sure he was ready for more
change.

“But I do and you do,” she whispered.
“Because we are two of a kind.” She came closer, her hips swinging
and Rex couldn’t take a breath. “What do you think would happen if
we bound each other?” she whispered, the idea having a dangerous
allure for Rex. “How tightly do you think we would create
connections between us?”

“But we’re not going to do that now,” Rex
protested. “I’m leaving the Plume.”

“Nothing said you were leaving me or that I
was leaving you.” She paused several feet in front of him and
studied his face. “Not now that we’ve just found each other.”

She reached out and let her fingertips slide
across his chest, a fleeting gesture that awakened his skin. Her
smile and the heat in her eyes made him think about that mutual
binding, made him think about the commonality between them.

“Besides, I owe you an apology,” she
whispered, those fingertips gliding over the length of his
erection. “How about now?”

Rex felt taut. He could smell her perfume and
the scent of her arousal. He wanted her and he felt his fingers
flex at the temptation she offered.

Still he resisted. He knew better than to
encourage emotional connections with others. He knew better than to
rely on anyone other than himself—and Athena had driven that lesson
home today. Even his systems and safeguards were useless unless
people accessed them and followed his rules. He should dig a moat
around his life, remain isolated and strong—but no one had ever
talked to him about binding before.

Did Leya really think as he did? He had a
heartbeat to wonder what she was going to say, how she would
surprise him next, before she opened her mouth and did it.

“So, were you beat up as a kid?”

* * *

Rex was clearly startled by Leya’s question,
but he hid it well. That he hadn’t shut her out or turned away
indicated that she hadn’t asked too much. Maybe it had been the
right question at the right time. Either way, she felt closer to
him.

Bound to him by his confession.

He was troubled by the question, she saw it
in his eyes. He probably blamed himself for the bullying, as that
was part of the mind trick. He might be ashamed. Leya knew she’d
have to proceed with caution.

But that he’d be worth it.

“How did you guess?” he asked.

“That was a pretty strong reaction.” She slid
her hand across his skin again, her movement gentle and rhythmic,
as if she could draw the tension out of him and toss it away. He
watched her fingers and exhaled. “It reminded me of the time my
brother was bullied.”

“I don’t like to think about it,” he said and
she knew he’d be happy to turn away, or turn her curiosity
aside.

But she had him talking and she wasn’t ready
to stop.

“Because you were weak, and vulnerable, and
other people took advantage of you.” Leya spoke quietly, no
question or judgment in her tone. “And since then, you’ve ensured
that it can’t happen again.” Her hand landed on his chest, and she
slid her palm slowly up to his shoulder. Her caress was slow and
steady, her intent to be soothing and yet exciting.

Rex exhaled, even as his cock got harder.

“You make sure that you’re strong.” Leya
pressed a kiss to his chest and Rex’s heart thumped. “You make sure
that you’re never vulnerable.” She kissed one of his nipples and
Rex caught his breath. She touched the tip of her tongue to his
nipple, liking that it sent a shudder through him. “You never lose
control and you make sure there are rules to protect those who are
weaker than you.”

“Don’t make fun of it.” His voice was
strained.

“I’m not. I’m trying to show you that we’re
the same.” Still holding his gaze, she leaned closer, taking his
nipple in her mouth. She suckled it tightly, drawing it to a taut
peak, then slowly released it from her mouth, grazing the tender
flesh with her teeth.

She watched his nostrils flare.

Then she did it again.

“You’re not the only one with rules,” she
said quietly. “People can get hurt doing what I do. I have to
understand my model. I have to know his or her fears and concerns.
I have to protect and defend the person who has trusted me.”

He looked at her then. “It’s your
responsibility.”

“It is. I have to ensure that we are both
tranquil.” Her gaze darted to his, even as her hands swept over him
again. “Meditative, even.”

Rex lifted a brow. “Even when hung trussed
from the roof, like a side of beef?”

“No butcher binds beef like that,” she
chided. Rex dropped his gaze to her breasts and Leya took that as
an invitation. She moved closer, presenting them to him. His hands
rose to cup them and Leya arched her back, welcoming the warmth of
his touch. She ran her hands down his sides, her caress possessive
and firm.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. But that’s why it works. When you’re
calm, your muscles relax. I can make the bonds exactly the right
tightness to ensure that you are reasonably comfortable.” Leya
closed her hands around his erection, working him gently, and felt
his delight. “In contrast, when you panic, your muscles clench.
They change shape. That changes the tension on the rope.”

“I see.”

“So, I need to understand you, to ensure that
you are protected.”

“Seems as if you could have done better
already.”

She nodded. “That was my mistake. But when I
make a mistake, I learn and do better.” She caressed him, watching
as Rex closed his eyes and leaned his head back. She caressed him,
feeling him get harder and thicker beneath her touch, watching his
breathing accelerate.

“How would you bind me?” she whispered.

“With black braided leather,” he said,
evidently not needing to think about it.

Or maybe he had thought about it already.
Leya like that idea. “Why?”

“Because you would look good in it.”

“Posed how?”

“On your knees, ankles and wrists together,
bent backward.”

“A little predictable, don’t you think?”

He flicked a downward glance her way. “I’d
want to see your puss, have it available, know you were spread
wide.”

“For you?”

Rex swallowed. “For me.” Their gazes locked
and held for a sizzling moment.

“Show me,” she invited and his gaze lit.
“Pose me.”

He turned her and crossed her hands behind
her back, putting her left elbow in her right hand and the right
elbow in her left. He tipped her head back and kissed her sweetly,
holding her captive against his chest. Leya didn’t move, just held
the pose.

Showing him that she trusted him.

The water from the shower cascaded over them
in a warm torrent, running between them and making their skin
slick. Rex began to run his hands over her breasts and she felt his
excitement rising. She pressed her butt against his erection,
grinding a bit against him, savoring his minute gasp.

His kiss turned hungry then, one hand
spearing into her hair to hold her in position. She let him guide
her, let him plunder her mouth, let him be in charge and do what he
wanted to her body. He urged her to her knees, crossed her ankles,
and arched her back. He walked around her then, splashing the water
with every step, considering the sculpture he’d made of her.

His hands returned repeatedly to her breasts,
teasing her nipples, tugging them to turgid peaks.

“You can’t possibly see my puss from that
angle,” Leya murmured.

Rex gave her a look. “Would I have to gag you
to have silence?”

She smiled. “You could just command it. I
would do as you told me.”

“You aren’t now.”

“You haven’t commanded silence yet, master.
I’m thinking only of your pleasure.” Leya parted her lips and let
her tongue ease across her bottom lip, liking how Rex watched her
avidly. She arched her back a little more, ensuring that her
breasts were under the spray of the shower. “I think you should
wash me, master,” she whispered.

Rex didn’t argue with her. There were
dispensers on the wall of shower gel and he filled his palm with
it. He straddled her and worked it in his hands, his cock hard and
ready. Leya admired the muscled strength of his legs, the way he
planted his feet against the floor, how he looked immovable and
masculine. He truly was perfect. His eyes glittered as he spread
the shower gel over her breasts, massaging them and caressing them,
the slick foam lubricating her skin. Leya rubbed against his palms,
liking the weight of his hands on her skin, her movement working
the gel into a lather.

Rex was transfixed. He teased her nipples and
lathered them thoroughly, his rising excitement clear. He worked
the foam over her shoulders and into her underarms, then down her
arms to her hands. Leya held the pose all the while, letting him
cover her with foam and explore her body. His touch set her on
fire. She loved that he was firm but not harsh, that he demanded
but didn’t take. He laved her neck, pushing his hands into her
hair, then moved his hands down to her waist. His grip becoming
more possessive and his touch more demanding as his own excitement
rose.

He bent over her then and claimed her mouth,
kissing her with passionate intensity. His tongue was between her
teeth, his hands locked around her nape, his thumbs on her temples.
His kiss was deep and demanding, insisting upon her response—and
Leya gave it. She could see the pounding of his pulse at his
throat, could feel the heat emanating from his body.

He coaxed her down to the floor without
breaking his kiss, stretched her out beside him as the water poured
around them. The tile was cool and wet beneath Leya’s back, but she
was lost in Rex’s kiss. She kept her hands behind her back. He held
her nape in one hand, his weight braced on his elbow. His other
hand was between her legs, his fingers on her sex, sliding between
the lips of her labia. The shower gel tingled, his mouth demanded,
and his fingers locked around her clitoris. He rolled the hard bud
of it between his finger and thumb, just as he had done with her
nipples, and Leya gasped into his kiss. She was aching for him,
wanted him to fill her and take her, and she didn’t care what she
had to do to persuade him.

“Should I fight you, master?” she whispered
when he broke their kiss. “Should I struggle?”

“You should squirm when I hold you,” he
instructed. “You should struggle but not really fight me. You
should accept that you’ve been claimed.”

“But wriggle within my bonds, even if they’re
only those of your command.”