Page 105 of Breaking Free

“Quite a predicament you’re in, isn’t it?” he asked.

Still not exactly sure of what he’d done, she nodded then moaned as the knots did their assigned task once again.

“This is what we call predicament bondage. Your action sparks a reaction. Sometimes it’s pleasure, like the ropes stimulating you from clit to ass. Other times, it might be something less enjoyable.”

He’d used nylon tonight, which was much smoother than hemp and would glide without abrading and burning her sensitive skin. He didn’t want rope burns for her sake or his because he fully intended to fuck her on the mat with her bound. Tristan moved slowly around her, taking in the beautiful sight ofher from all angles. Her head moved to follow him, sparking a moan.

Reflexively, his hand moved to her, fingers trailing over her skin lightly. He avoided her head and especially her hair. Any additional stimulation would be up to her entirely—for now.

“Are you in pain? Is something pinching or too tight?” Tristan inquired, although he was 99.9 percent certain it wasn’t the case. The sound he just heard was more akin to pleasure than pain, hinting at desperation, perhaps. He felt compelled to ask, just in case it fell within that slim 0.1 percent chance.

“I wouldn’t put it that way...exactly,” was her breathless reply, confirming his suspicion.

“How would you put it?”

“I very much need...to come, sir,” she gasped.

“Naturally, that is my intention,” he whispered. “However, you don’t have permission just yet.”

Her whimper was definitely out of frustration this time. “What if I can’t keep from it?”

“I meant tonight to be about pleasure. But I have a flogger in my bag for a naughty sub who can’t do as she’s told.”

“I’ll try, sir.” Her answer wasn’t very convincing, however, mostly just a barely intelligible moan.

“I won’t torture you too long, pet. But you’ve risen to every challenge I’ve presented you with thus far. Tonight, my aim is to push you further, and to have a little fun.”

From his pocket, he withdrew a pair of nipple clamps. They were the adjustable tweezer type, with rubber-tipped ends suitable for an uninitiated newbie. Crouching in front of her once again, he leaned down and sucked one rosy peak into his mouth to prepare it. When he applied the clamp and tightened the screw, one turn to start, he watched her lovely face, gauging her reaction. Other than biting her trembling bottom lip, she stayed perfectly still—barely breathing.

Tristan moved to the other breast and repeated the process. With both tips clamped, he leaned back and took in the lovely sight of Piper, kneeling in submission, head back, breasts outthrust, nipples a deep rosy hue. He was beyond the point of merely looking, however, and traced each compressed tip peeking out through the rubber-covered ends. When that wasn’t nearly enough, he bent forward for a taste.

Piper let out a throaty groan at the slow drag of his tongue over her flesh, her body arching in response. This only made her situation more dire because the knotted crotch rope slid over her sensitive flesh.

“I can’t wait,” she uttered urgently.

“Yes, you can,” he countered.

She shook her head—another mistake. After a shudder swept through her, she froze, not even breathing, which was only a temporary solution to her problem, poor sweet beautiful girl.

If she failed, which wouldn’t be a surprise—the combination of a crotch rope, clamps, and edging were a huge undertaking for a newbie—the outcome would be the same, a flogging and fucking right there on the mat. A win-win for them both. But he wanted her to succeed.

Tristan wrapped his hand around her neck beneath her braid. Nose to nose with her and staring into her luminous blue eyes, he urged, “Breathing helps, Piper. Focus on that.”

“I can’t,” she exclaimed on a shallow gasp of air. “Even that moves the rope.”

“Yes, but if you pass out from lack of oxygen, you won’t get the orgasm you seek. Or should I say orgasms? Because I intend to have mine after I grant you yours.”

Her trembling spoke volumes about her struggle.

“Close your eyes and concentrate on feeling everything, not just the knots. Feel the tension of the ropes surrounding you, thepressure of the clamps on your nipples, and the steady pull on your hair—not too much or too little but just right.”

As he spoke, using a deep soothing tone, Tristan reached for his vampire gloves and slipped them on. They usually had tacks or sharp points to resemble claws. But he’d special ordered these from Josie, using metal pegs rounded on the end on one glove and thick soft faux fur on the other. His aim was to stimulate to the nth degree, not to draw blood. Even if it wasn’t against club rules, that wasn’t his kink and it sure as hell wasn’t Piper’s.

He ran the cool metal tips over her body, tracing every curve and dip, followed by the fur. And, because he was weak and gave in to temptation, dotted wet kisses on her skin and light nips with his teeth in the wake of the gloves.

After one pass over her shoulders, back, breasts, and belly, Piper was a writhing mess. “Please, sir. I can’t...hold off...any longer,” she pleaded between pants.

“You don’t have to. You did well. Better than I expected.”

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