Page 77 of Breaking Free

“Rope bottoms often do yoga to stay limber.” Rising quickly to his feet, looking pretty flexible himself, he offered his hand and helped her up. “How do you feel?”

Turned the heck onwas the first thing that came to her mind. Tristan’s undivided attention and intimate touch had ignited a fire inside her. If that was the warm-up, she couldn’t wait for the main event.

“Like a new woman,” she said instead.

“And we’ve only just begun.” He patted the table. “Hop on up.”

The attendant appeared at the edge of the station with a large black bag, having made record time. While she climbed up, Tristan went to retrieve it. He dropped it on the floor with a noticeable clink and crouched beside it, rummaging through as he spoke.

“Lesson #2. To be clear, BDSM stands for bondage and discipline, domination and submission, and sadism and masochism. From your reaction to the St. Catherine’s wheel, CBT, and the hot wax, I think it’s safe to say the last two aren’t your kink. That’s just as well because, while I can spank and flogas well as the next dom and will enjoy tying you in knots, pain for pain’s sake isn’t mine. We’ll focus on bondage, domination, and submission, discipline if needed, being open to softening limits as we explore.”

He rose with scissors and a length of rope in his hand, sliding the former into his back pocket as he approached.

“We covered several of the basics the last time—sensory reduction with the blindfold, sensory stimulation with the wand, and wrist restraints. You also got a reward. Let’s see if you can earn another tonight.” He set the coil of undyed rope beside her on the table. “The rope will snag your dress. It’s gotta go.”

She glanced behind him at the still-sparse crowd. Deciding to stop acting like a scaredy-cat when there was practically no one around, she raised her hands.

“There’s a brave girl,” he murmured, sliding the slippery material over her head.

His gaze skimmed her breasts, the nipples already tight peaks and his hand gently followed, tracing her curves and down her belly until it reached the bikini panties she had on.

“You can keep these for now. Lie back.”

The table felt cool against her warm skin, her body humming with desire from imagining all the wicked things he was about to do to her.

“Flip over, facing down,” he ordered further.

Flipping on the narrow table was easier said than done. She wiggled and squirmed and had to do some rearranging of her squashed boobs to get comfy. Once settled, she turned her head toward him, her hot cheek resting on the coolness of the leather as she watched him run the rope through his hands.

“For your wrists, I’ll use a simple double-column tie,” he explained as he wound the rope and created the knots that secured her arms behind her back. “I’ll repeat it on your ankles with a single tie just above your knees.” He moved down to herfeet and got started. “Nothing too fancy tonight. I want you to get the feel for the ropes and the restriction.” Piper’s skin tingled wherever the ropes touched, but more so when Tristan’s fingers lightly brushed her as he tied each knot.

“I need you sitting up for this last part.”

Holy crud on a cracker. Did he think she was Houdini? She could barely maneuver on the table when she was free. Bound in three places and without the use of her hands, she’d surely take a header onto the floor. Her panic must have shown in her eyes.

“Easy. I’ll help.”

He slid an arm under her and easily lifted her upright. When he tipped her face up to him, he took a moment to brush the hair out of her eyes. She could get used to this gentle side of him.

“Remember, my priority in this is keeping you safe. How do you feel?”

“Like a pork roast. All we need is a side of applesauce.”

“A what?” he asked, startled.

Piper made a mental note to herself. In shibari, thinking before speaking is important. Blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, not so much.

Now she had to explain.

“A pork roast. You know, the kind wrapped in rope netting. Those suckers don’t come off without a fight.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Before he did, she noticed the blue in his eyes had become more pronounced and the lines bracketing them crinkled. It still wasn’t a smile, but she’d take it.

With a hand on her constantly, he rounded the table and stood behind her. In minutes, he wound another length of rope around her chest, above and below her breasts, then knotted it in the back.

“This is called ashinju, which is basically a chest harness. Their complexity can range from simple to elaborate. Tonight, again, nothing fancy until we pull it all together.”

He laid her facedown, and, as he did, she felt a tug on the ropes around her wrists and thighs. He connected the two, causing her back to arch, lifting her chest slightly off the table. Although it was an awkward position, it brought her flattened breasts sweet relief. With another tug, this time on her ankles and the knots at her back, Tristan bound them together, so that now, the soles of her feet pointed toward the ceiling.

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