Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
She flushed, color blazing in her cheeks. “I didn’t think… I didn’t mean…”
Reaching down, he grabbed her nipples and used them to pull her closer. She gasped, her pupils dilating as she stared up at him.
“I have a question for you,” he said, his eyes drilling into hers. “Are you serious about connecting with your inner submissive or are you just wasting my time?”
Her color still high, her gaze slid from his.
“Look at me,” he commanded, waiting until she obeyed. “Now answer the question.”
“I do want to connect with my inner sub,” she said, her tone subdued. Her eyes filled with sudden tears, which she blinked away. “It’s just…”
“Go on,” he pressed, more gently now, though his fingers remained tight on her nipples.
“I’m not sure she’s in there,” she blurted.
Beau suppressed his sudden impulse to laugh, not out of malice, but at just how adorable she was. Releasing her, he took a step back. “Listen, Lia. I get it. Letting go is really hard, especially in situations that are new for you. I get the strong sense that you’re someone used to looking out for yourself at all times, even, or perhaps especially, in a D/s situation. While that might work fine for a scene, it’s not going to work in a training situation. This is a big ask—but I’m asking you to trust me. To put aside what you think you know about how this should go and let me guide you. You’re still free to express reservations or concerns if I ask something of you that confuses or scares you. But that’s it. You don’t get to direct me in any way. For the next six days, I’ll be the one to decide what you do and when you do it, 24/7, and my word is final.”
She swallowed visibly, making the knot at her throat rise and fall. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered with what seemed to be genuine contrition.
He barely permitted himself to acknowledge his relief. For whatever reason, he was already invested in her success. He wanted her to achieve her goal, but it was going to be on his terms or not at all.
“Good,” he said. “Stay where you are. Don’t move.”
Grabbing his gear bag, he unzipped it and took out several hanks of undyed Kinbaku rope. Returning to her, he set them on the nearby spanking bench.
“Place your arms behind your back in a box formation, gripping opposing elbows.”
Lia obeyed, her eyes on the rope, her nipples still red and engorged from his manhandling. Reaching for a hank of the sturdy, soft rope, he moved behind her. He wove the rope around her wrists, creating a pattern that confined her arms securely without being overly restrictive. He worked quickly but deliberately, each knot both purposeful and aesthetically pleasing.
Like the night before, she responded well to the bondage, visibly relaxing as he worked. Maybe this would be a way to reach her where The Enclave trainers had failed. Kinbaku was a different focus for her, something outside her normal realm of BDSM experience. Hopefully it would offer a new way for her to connect with her truer self.
When he was done, he tested the bonds for circulation. Satisfied, he retrieved another length of rope.
He used this one to bind her breasts, creating an intricate lattice design in a circle around each breast. Moving down, he crisscrossed her abdomen with the rope, cinching it snuggly around her waist.
Finally, he selected a short length of the rope. “Spread your legs to shoulder width,” he directed.
She obeyed, a dreamy, anticipatory expression on her face he recognized well. To her credit, she made no move or insinuation that implied she was expecting a scene. Hopefully, she was finally figuring out he meant business.
He positioned the rope between her legs, pulling it taut between her labia and along the crack of her pert little bottom. Her breath quickened and he again smelled the sweet, spicy scent of her arousal. Ignoring it, he tied each end to the rope belt cinching her waist. He made it taut so it would rub at her sex with each step she took.
He moved back to admire his handiwork. She looked hot as hell, her lovely body wrapped in his ropes, her jagged pink bangs falling in a curtain over one eye, her full lips softly parted. The tip of her pretty pink tongue had again appeared on her lower lip and, in spite of himself, his balls tightened at the sexy sight.
The horndog in him wanted to press her down to the ground, yank his jeans open and sink his shaft deep into her throat. The man in him knew that was a mistake and the Dom in him knew it was irresponsible.
Turning from her, he grabbed a small piece of rope from the bench and ordered, “Open your mouth.”