Page 132 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
Confused, I do as he asks, watching as he arranges the rope around his hand. The snow is cold beneath me, but Drystan’s magic keeps me from feeling it fully as I settle back on my haunches.
“Hands behind your neck.”
My own silky strands caress my fingers as I follow the instruction.
“Knees apart.”
Is my breathing shallow? I feel oddly aware of my breasts pushing up and out with each pant, and even more vulnerable as his eyes trace lazy lines across my hardened nipples and down to the spread lips of my sex.
“Beautiful.”
The one word sends a frisson of pleasure racing down my spine, and I almost forget to breathe as he begins to braid the rope. Each brush of his fingers over my skin as he works is like a tiny lick of fire. He deftly creates a glittering harness over my chest that loops back around my torso, carefully avoiding the joints of my wings and binding my breasts in beautiful knotwork, then ties my arms in place.
I give an experimental tug against my bonds and bite my lip when I realise my upper body is entirely immobilised.
And he’s not done.
His creation wraps around my hips, fingers lingering over the soaked lips of my pussy as he passes the rope between my thighs twice—one for each thigh. My legs are bound in place, until my heels touch my butt, and the knots he uses to secure them are so ornate they almost look like… roses.
Goddess, I’m beginning to regret this. It’s the worst kind of tease. My body is dripping with arousal, and I can’t do anything about it.
“Don’t panic.” His lips brush my ear as he speaks, making me shiver. “You’re so perfect in my ropes. I’m going to lift you now. There shouldn’t be any pain or numbness. Tell me if there is.”
“Yes, Master,” I whisper, then gasp as the tree a few yards to the right goes up in flames and I realise what I’ve said. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”
“Rhoswyn.”
He’s right in front of me now, staring into my soul with those eyes of his.
My embarrassment ratchets up a notch, and my voice is small when I reply, “Yes?”
“You may only call me Master when you’re in my ropes. In fact, I’m going to have to insist upon it. Am I clear?”
My tense muscles ease slightly, along with my nerves. He likes it. “Yes.”
He raises a brow, and I correct myself. “Yes, Master.”
Goddess, it’s strange how natural that feels.
One hand cups my cheek gently. “Good.”
Then he gives the rope he’s holding a tug, and the ground disappears beneath me.
“Ohh!” I can’t help the whimper that slips free as my knees become the lowest part of my body, but there’s no pressure on them. There’s no strain anywhere, in fact. The masterwork of braids and knots around my limbs and chest keep me suspended without any of the soreness or constriction I expected. I swing lightly in the soft breeze as Drystan secures the rope to the tree and circles me, admiring his handiwork.
“Very nice,” he murmurs under his breath, reaching out to pinch my left nipple roughly, then my right.
The sting arcs through my body, travelling straight to the heavy throbbing ache that’s been growing between my legs since I took my clothes off, and singing in the nerve endings of my clit. I bite my lip again, hoping against hope that he’ll trace the diamonds of rope across my abdomen and touch me there instead, but he keeps circling until he’s behind me.
“How many do you think you deserve, huntress?” he asks, voice cool and collected.
Oh shit. My spanking. I was so caught up in the ropes that I forgot all about it.
He’s letting me pick? Or is he giving me an out? I have a feeling that if I say none and sound terrified, he’ll end this. Maybe he’ll fuck me in these ropes and let me down. But if I say none just to test him, he’ll add more just to punish me.
“Two?” I venture. “One for each infraction?”
“Two?” The scepticism underlying his tone tells me I’ve really underestimated how many smacks he plans to give me. “Try again.”
