“You still don’t trust me.”
“No, it’s not that.” She bit her lip. “I don’t trust myself.”
“Why?” he demanded.
“I have… problems with bondage,” she said. “But I want to get over them. Help me.”
“The scars?” His eyes widened.
“The leg. The accident. There was a seatbelt that couldn’t come off, there was...”
Alice shut her eyes at the ghostly sound of tires spinning, of the CD skipping, of something that started in laughter, ending in pain.
“Okay. We’ll start slow. One rope. One scene.”
Alice glanced at the pictures on the wall behind Parker. “You did those?”
“The rope art, yes. The photographs, yes. The women? No.”
Her gaze flicked to his and saw the truth in them. “Have you, um… had sex with any of your models?”
“No.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“You are too.”
He said it so casually, so easily, that she had to believe him. She filled her lungs until bursting, and then exhaled slowly. She wanted to help him, and she wanted to trust him and, by God, she wanted to fuck him. But first they had to shed every last piece of emotional armor. This was as much a test in herself as it was for him. After the last drop of air left her lungs, she nodded.
“Keep your clothes on,” he said.
“Aww,” she whined, almost stomped her foot like a child, and his lips curved seductively.
“We start slow, Alice. Shibari isn’t always about sex.”
Her follow up protest was short lived as she became enthralled with his hands unwinding the bundle of rope until he flicked it out like some kind of expert cowboy. But she knew this was more than that. More than a show. It was a connection between the two of them, and her skin pulled tight in anticipation for whatever that entailed.
He removed his robe and climbed behind her on the bed to cradle her smaller body in his own. Strong arms surrounded her, holding the rope, caging her in. In silence he pulled the single cord across her chest, drawing her back to him until her head rested on his shoulder and her back was flush to the heat of his front. Calmness spread in her body, melting her bones.
“Shibari is more than knots and bondage. It’s sensual. It’s about this: the trust; the intimacy; the surrender.”
He let go of one side of the rope and slowly dragged the length across her chest. The ridges of cord rasped over her skin, sparking sensation, melting her until she fell deeper under his hypnotic spell. He moved her hands into a praying position and bound them.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Surrender.Her lashes fluttered, and she gave herself over to the sensations. With gentle, methodical touch, Parker moved them in harmony. He would shift her chin, or arm, but shadow his own body in tandem. He arched when she arched. He supported when she fell. This was like nothing she’d imagined.
At first, it was a little unnerving. But with each caress of the rope, each soft touch from him, she was eventually lulled into submission. It was almost like being on a boat, rocking gently in the waves. Floating.
A small sigh escaped her lips. She couldn’t get any more relaxed, but then he tugged sharply on the rope, jolting her, drawing her bound hands up sharply to her chest. Her heart rate spiked. He tugged again and again. Each confident pull thrilled her like a sudden wave, and she gasped as the rope rasped lightly over her chest, her nipples, shooting pleasure into her veins.
Parker stopped. He held her by the ropes, her hands pinned to her chest and with him still behind her, cradling with his body. Lips fluttered at her ear.
“That sound,” he said, “was your good sound. Am I right?”
All she could do was nod, too lost in the euphoria.
He let go of the tension. The rope slithered along her skin, sending shudders skipping through her body, and then he gently guided her into another position. This time, he raised her bound hands over her head to loop behind his own warm neck. The ropes moved with a flurry, a quickening of the sea. Line after line wrapped around her torso. She didn’t even realize it also wrapped around him until he suddenly pulled tight, tugging her back against his front. Trapping them together.