Page 57 of Tangled Control

“Not tonight.”

Leading her a bit further down the corridor, I stop at an open door that shows an empty room, yet the sign next to it saysoccupied. I motion for Catriona to enter. Confused, she looks up at me.

“R-Rian?”

“Do you trust me?”

I hold my breath while her internal battle takes place. She steps into the room, and I hide my sigh of relief. Her eyes flick across the room as I lock the door behind us and pull a heavy drape across the viewing window.

“No one can see us now.” This time it’s Catriona who lets out a sigh of relief, but her breath hitches as I step over to a row of implements hanging on the wall. I flick the coil of blue cotton rope that I specifically requested. “Now it’s only you and me. I can do with you whatever I want.”

I walk back to her, circling her, letting the words take effect. I know the images of the things we have witnessed in the last hour are going through her mind.

“I can do whatever I want. No one will hear. No one will see. Just you and me.Alone.” The last word is whispered in her ear, and her body trembles.

Carefully, I remove her mask. I want to see her eyes for this. At a large set of drawers, I remove my own mask as well as my shirt. I also take off my shoes and socks. There is no need to tell her to stand still – I know she will. Circling her again, I stop in front of her and slowly pull her tube dress down. She moans as the material glides along her skin, leaving her in only a tiny pair of string panties. I rest on one knee in front of her and grab the sides.

“You dirty minx,” I hiss as I pull her panties down her legs. “You’ve shaved.”

She blushes. Her bare mound is right in my eyeline, the lips shining and I breathe in her addictive scent. It’s with effort I get up. Tasting her will have to wait.

“Hold out your hands.”

Using the thin blue rope, I bind her wrists. The colour shines against her skin. My pulse is pounding and my cock swelling painfully, yet with every circle around her arms, my hands become steadier and my focus increases. I’m in control. I tie her wrists together in a simple lashing knot ending with a loop between her palms.

She jumps at the sound of a loud clang as I slide a chain across the ceiling.

“What…what are you doing?”

Cupping her face, I force her to meet my gaze. The flash of fear makes my cock throb, yet I need to reassure her. “We don’t have a safe word. If you want me to stop, you say so, and I will stop.”

She stares at me, her blue eyes that match the colour of the rope are wide open. She nods. “Okay.”

Her cheek is soft under my thumb as I caress it. “Now be a good girl and lift your arms. Can you do that for me?”

Her naked breasts tremble as her shoulders rise on a sharp breath, but so obediently, she lifts her bound hands. I attach the loop to the chain. She traces the chain up to the ceiling as I tighten the slack, making her stretch.

Taking another length of the blue rope, I circle it around her torso. I’d love to do a full Shibari art, but a simple chest harness will do tonight. Just seeing the rope pressed against her pale skin is enough to set me off. I’ve been fantasising about this for so long.

“Relax. You’re doing so well,” I coax. Rope play isn’t only about beautiful knots and restriction of movement. Moreimportantly, it’s about trust and submitting control to someone else. Earning and not abusing that gift when given to you.

She shivers under the pads of my fingers as I trace her skin alongside the rope crossing her chest. As I carefully decorate her upper body with practiced moves, her muscles go slack. The power kick of seeing her like this, trusting and pliant, has my heart thumping hard against my ribcage.

Tying the last end, I take a step back to admire the work. My breath catches in my throat. She’s a masterpiece, made to be covered in knots, made to succumb to me. I’ve worked on many women – even had a regular I worked with at a Shibari club when I lived in New York. But none have ever affected me like Catriona.

The rope is criss-crossed from her raised arms down her torso to her hips. Her blonde locks fall over her shoulders to her breasts. Framed in rope, they are jutting out so needily, begging for attention. I’ve crossed two lines of rope on her back from the waist and down in her bum crack, then back up between her legs to the hips. Pressing against her flesh, it has her pussy lips spread like a blossoming, weeping flower. She’s all I’ve ever desired – helpless and desperate. Desperate forme.

“You’re beautiful,” I rasp.

The blood is swooshing in my ears as I select a flogger from the wall display. I run the soft leather straps through my fingers while fixing my gaze on Catriona. She follows my every move as I circle her. I step to the side and let the flogger fall over her stomach.

Her eyes widen in surprise. She expected pain, but this flogger is soft, and I didn’t hit her hard. Again, I let the flogger fall over her skin, down over her legs, her back, her jutting breasts, her arse. Soft whips to sensitise her skin rather than cause pain.

There’s a change in her stance. The flogger is doing its magic. The patches of skin between the ropes flush and she moans as I put more force behind the hits. The continuous motion strains my shoulder, but nothing will make me stop as she throws her head back and writhes her bound body. My blood roars in my ears as she rubs her legs together for friction against the rope – rope that has darkened in colour as it’s turned wet.

“Oh, God… Yes-ah!” She spreads her legs and tilts her pelvis as I bring the flogger down on her pussy. “Please, ah…”

I’ve never seen anything as mesmerising and hot as her trembling, naked body, completely lost to sensation. Sweat trickles down my back and my cock is trying to break the seams of my trousers. Catriona is beyond ready to come, and so am I. But I continue, bringing us both even closer to the edge, so close that I’m shaking.