Page 81 of The Hangman's Rope

“What’s it feel like?” I asked.

She cocked her head and considered me, and it was adorable how she did it.

“Like I’m filled to the brim with just a nervous sort of energy and that I’m apt to just… I don’t know,explodeor implode at any moment. Like I just want to start screaming and never stop or—” she choked up and took a deep, soggy, shuddering breath letting it out roughly, trying to breathe through the rough patch of emotion that’d upset her applecart.

I thought about it, for a minute, and asked tentatively, “You want to find out what that ring and tripod setup in the corner of the bedroom is for?”

She looked up at me, her silvery eyes luminous with unshed tears. “You think it will help?” she asked.

I smiled. “It certainly won’t hurt to give it a try,” I said.

She smiled back and nodded, asking, “So what is it?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lorelai…

I didn’t know what to expect but when the clothes came off and the rope bundles came out of the top of the chest of drawers, it dawned on me what the setup might be for.

“You’re going to tie me up and hang me from that thing like a living piece of artwork, aren’t you?” I asked and I felt a little thrill go through me.

“Very good, Sweetpea,” he murmured and tossed a length of rope out and away from him, the sound of it smacking the carpet in here made me jump.

“How does it go?” I asked curiously. I trusted him, and I liked it when he draped and cinched the ropes against my skin, it felt nice and I felt like I looked so pretty decorated in them, the knots and macramé highlighting some of my body’s greatest… a hem… assets.

He grinned and it was a bit feral, sending a wash of tingles down my back. I smiled and he grinned and stepping into my personal space, his big hands going to my hips, he said, “Well, first, let’s get you naked, if you don’t mind.”

“I never mind with you,” I whispered and his smile grew and glowed with something akin to pride.

“You flatter me,” he said with a wink and with a wry twist to my lips I said, “I’d say you earned it, because you did.”

He lowered his mouth to mine then and we kissed.

I loved how gentle he was with me, his lips soft and considerate against mine. His hands firm and yet so gentle on my body. He slipped the zipper on the side of my dress down, the bodice going from comfortably snug to loose around my midsection and I breathed out a sigh of something like relief against his lips.

He chuckled and his hands moved slowly, gracefully, and softly against my body, divesting me of first my dress, and then my bra before he knelt down at my feet to sweep my panties down my legs.

I watched him every moment, my breath stolen by the pride and love shining from his eyes as he looked at me.

“You need to stop, what do you say?” he asked softly.

We’d talked about this. Something other than ‘no’ and ‘stop’ something that was a clear as day failsafe that was completely out of left field and unmistakable for the signal it was – that I was uncomfortable and everything needed to stop.

“Belladonna,” I said. One of the forms of deadly nightshade. It seemed apropos if I was going to kill a good time.

“Belladonna,” he repeated his voice soft and nearly drowned out by the pulsing rain on the windows and roof. “Good girl,” he whispered by my ear, and then he attacked the side of my neck with tender mercy, igniting that cold fire that swept out from my core in a rush that stole my very breath from my lungs and turned off almost all of my faculties. Like throwing a light switch into the ‘off’ position, my mind just clicked and shrank and went pleasantly blank under his onslaught.

I knew that would only get better as the rope came out, and he meditatively started running it along my skin, binding me in place slowly and methodically as he did.

He drew back and looked into my eyes and said, “I want to try something a little more different with you tonight than the usual chest harness.”

I looked up at him questioningly, but didn’t speak.

He smiled and said, “I want to tie your arms behind your back, and put rope on more of you than I usually do. Think you can handle that?”

I cocked my head, considering what he’d said, and after much thought to whether Icouldhandle being incapacitated, I nodded, eventually, very slowly.

His worried smile turned into something beatific and he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

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