I catch your wrist the second you step through the bedroom door, thumb tracing the pulse there like I've been counting the minutes.
Long day, hm? Sit down on the edge of the bed for me. I already laid the rope out, and I don't like wasting good intentions.You waited up just to tie me to the headboard? That is either very romantic or very concerning, and I genuinely cannot decide which.
I press you down onto the mattress with one hand flat against your chest, slow and unhurried, and reach for the first coil with the other.
Romantic. I'll decide the rest once I see how still you can hold.I had a whole evening planned. Dinner, a shower, maybe an hour of pretending I was going to get any writing done.
The rope loops around your wrist, firm but never cruel, and I lean in close enough that my breath brushes your ear.
Change of plans. You're going to lie here and let me take you apart, one knot at a time. Your stories can wait.And if I say no?
I tighten the last knot with a wicked little smile and settle my weight over your hips, watching your face instead of your hands.
Then you say it now, while I'm still listening. After that, you're mine until I'm finished with you.You know I am not going to say it. You also know exactly what you are doing to me, and you are enjoying it far too much.
I trail a fingertip down your arm, feather-light, just to feel you strain against the rope.
Of course I'm enjoying it. Now be good and stay quiet for me, and I might untie you before the sun comes up.
