Page 55 of The Vigilante's Lover
Jax sits back to study his knots. I look up. My hands are pressed tightly together, bound to the post. I can barely move them at all. I don’t see any way to get out of this.
“The hardest part of escaping is staying focused,” he says and picks up the frayed end of the rope. “I have a feeling this might be one of your weaknesses.” He grabs my knees and jerks them apart.
I suck in my breath. I don’t know what he’s going to do next. The rope is in his hands and he lets it dangle until it brushes between my legs.
The contact is electrifying and I can’t help it, but I cry out. I tug against the bonds. I want my hands.
“Think about the knots, Mia. You know how they are tied. You know how they go.” He trails the end of the rope against my tender parts again.
I’m on fire. The withdrawal of the rope is painful and leaves me aching with desire. I want it harder. I want more. I want to ease this fiery need.
“Harder,” I find myself whispering, a little shocked.
Jax pauses for a second, surprised, but he complies. The rope slaps against me with just a touch of sting. The contact is titillating, a burst of pure pleasure.
“More,” I plead.
“Untie the knot,” Jax says.
I try to move my hands, but they are bound tight against the post. My body heaves as I thrust my hips toward Jax. “I can’t do it,” I say. “Please.”
“Distraction,” he says as he examines the end of the rope. “You’re failing.”
I stare up at my hands. I can follow the turns, but I can’t move at all to do anything about it.
The rope brushes my belly and I focus on Jax again.
“I should loosen these ends a bit more,” he says. “It’s a basic sisal three-strand. The beginnings of a nice flogger. Just what you’re aching for.”
I swallow hard as he unravels more of the strands. The hot pleasure is already retreating, and I want it back. He uses one loose piece to wrap the end so the rope won’t come undone.
“Think about that overhand turn,” he says. “And how you can reach it.”
I can’t concentrate on anything but my need of that powerful strike, and his eyes on me, full of lust and interest and surprise. He’s pleased with me, and that is as powerful as the pleasure of the contact.
But he sits back. He won’t do anything, give me any more, unless I impress him.
I jerk against the ropes. They are rough and chafe me quickly, unlike the smooth silk we used before. I keep pulling them apart, but then realize I have room to work if I instead clasp them together.
“Now you’re getting it,” Jax says. He’s finished this handmade flogger. I’m rewarded for my progress with a sharp smack between my legs with the frayed ends of the rope.
This one has more force, but he knows it, and lays his hand against my skin to calm it.
I lose concentration again, my body lifting up against his palm.
“You like this?” he asks, and applies more pressure.
“Yes,” I breathe. I’m on fire again, my body hot and throbbing.
“Untie it and you’ll get a lot more,” he says.
I clasp my hands together and stretch my finger. Yes, I can get it to the first knot. I poke into the knot like I’m holding a marlinspike tool to separate the strands. Any knot that can be tied can be undone. It’s just a reverse puzzle.
My finger works inside.
“Very nice,” Jax says.
I pause, waiting for the rewarding strike. This one has bite, aimed more precisely. I cry out, then drift into a long moan when his hand cools the burn. This time his thumb slides down, gently brushing against the swollen bud.
