With each new knot, Grant could see Charli’s breathing becoming more shallow, could feel her skin warming even though the room was cool. Some people panicked in rope bindings because it could feel more restrictive than cuffs, more claustrophobic, but Charli seemed to be having the opposite reaction. He could sense her sinking deeper into herself, any lingering anxiety draining from her.
Pride ballooned in his chest. His little trainee was quite the protégé. Despite her obvious issues with being exposed in front of others, she’d listened to his instructions and blocked everything out. She was only there with him, no one else. He finished the last knot and gave her shoulder a soft bite before whispering, “I can’t even tell you how fucking perfect you look right now, sweet Charlotte. I’m the luckiest guy in the joint.”
She flexed against her bindings, and her teeth dragged over her bottom lip.
“There’s one more binding I want to do, but that one’s going to be for my eyes only. I’m done sharing you tonight.”
Hell, based on how he was feeling at this moment, he may not want to ever share her again.
Charli listened to Grant wrap up the demonstration with only half an ear. Her arms were still bound behind her, her breasts no doubt jutting forth for all to see, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The audience’s presence had melted away in her mind. Grant’s steady voice, his sure hands as he tied the ropes, the feel of his callused fingers brushing over her skin, his scent…Those were the only things she could focus on. And with each passing minute, her body’s awareness of him became more and more acute.
His slow footsteps sounded in her ears and she stretched her fingers, wishing she could reach out and touch him, explore. He stopped in front of her, his pant leg brushing her knee, then his voice was close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheeks. “We’re all alone again, Charlotte.”
He untied the blindfold and she blinked at him, the sudden light leaving spots in her vision. “They’re gone?”
He was squatting in front of her, want in his eyes. “You didn’t hear all that commotion as everyone left?”
She shook her head, still feeling a bit dazed.
He smiled and cupped her breast, circling his thumb around the tip and making her shiver. “So you can lose yourself to it.” Deep satisfaction colored his tone. “You’re getting a taste of subspace, freckles. I hope to bring you there often.”
She didn’t know what the term meant, but if he kept caressing her nipple like that, she wasn’t going to be able to remember her name in a second.
He rose off his haunches and moved around behind her. “Let me get you out of this, then I’m taking you where I can have you all to myself.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan.”
After he removed all of the ropes, he slipped her robe back on her shoulders and tied the belt around her waist. “Be right back.”
He left her there while he went into the staging room. When he returned a few minutes later, he was wearing jeans and boots and holding the bag he’d asked her to pack this morning. He held it out to her. “You’re allowed to put on panties and shoes for now. My dungeon isn’t in this building. We have to go outside.”
She raised her eyebrows, but took the bag and followed his instructions, slipping on a pair of simple black panties beneath the robe and toeing on her ballet flats. “Okay.”
He grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. “Our chariot awaits, sweet Charlotte.”
Chariot? She had no idea what he meant by that, but as he led her down a few hallways and out a side door, the last thing she’d expected was standing outside waiting for them—waiting and…chuffing. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Grant gave a hearty laugh. “Watch your mouth, freckles. Maggie here will be offended.”
The horse turned a big eye on Charli, while Grant ran an affectionate hand down Maggie’s blue-black flank. “Sorry, it’s just I’m not exactly dressed for horseback riding.”
Grant checked Maggie’s saddle, then put out a hand to Charli. “You’re fine. It’s warm enough tonight and it will be quicker than walking. Plus, it’s more fun than the golf cart.”
With a sigh, she gave Grant her hand, and he helped her get her foot in the stirrup. He counted to three, then hoisted her up so she could mount the horse. Maggie stirred beneath her but otherwise seemed totally content with a half-naked stranger climbing on top of her. Charli snorted.
“What was that for?” Grant asked as he untied the horse from the hitching post.
“Nothing. Just realized Maggie and I have something in common tonight.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not touching that one.”
With the grace of a man who’d done it a thousand times before, Grant put his boot in the stirrup and swung his leg over, filling the space behind Charli. The heat of his chest seared through the thin silk of her robe, making every inch of her reignite with awareness. He reached around her and grabbed the reins, cocooning her with his scent. He nuzzled her ear, his voice low. “Hold on, freckles.”
She grabbed onto the saddle horn, and Grant made a soft clicking sound to get Maggie moving. Charli gripped hard as the horse made its way down the slant in the path. “Whoa.”
“Relax, darlin’. I’m not going to let you fall.” His thighs pressed against the outside of hers, reminding her that he had her on all sides.
“Maybe I should mention I’ve never been on a horse.”