She knew what he meant. He could slide the knot he was working on, adjust it so it rested right against her clit, or maybe even pinched her clit, but that would be too much. It would make her lose her dignity and beg him for animal sex.
“Please…better…not…” She couldn’t speak good English right now.
He seemed to understand she was reaching the limits of her control. He ought to understand. He was the one who’d pushed her there. He gave her a sympathetic smile and tucked the ends of the rope tightly into the belt circling the front of her waist.
“You’re all tied now.” He led her over to the mirror so she could see the lines and patterns he’d made with the knots. “A pretty little package,” he said, rightfully proud of his handiwork. “You can move around if you like, test the bondage and sensations. You’ll feel a pull here and there, which is part of the excitement.”
She didn’t know if she could take much more excitement. “It looks amazing, Ethan, seriously. It feels amazing.” She did as he suggested, squirming in the ropes as far as they’d allow. It became obvious she couldn’t undo any of the bondage, not without his assistance. She couldn’t even run her hands over the intricate knots, because her wrists were bound to either side of her waist. She arched her back instead, deliriously turned on.
“I… I think…” Her legs trembled. “I think I might have to lie down.”
“Sure. Let me help you down. Just…hold on.” He grabbed the coverlet from the bed and spread it on the carpet. He guided her down, and she flowed onto the floor like water. She was that wet. She laid still, feeling the rope hold her, bondage and comfort in one.
“Are you okay?” He stroked her hair and traced her temples. “Does anything hurt?”
“Nothing hurts.” She closed her eyes. “Everything’s wonderful. It feels good when you touch me. It feels really, really good.”
“Do you need me to untie you?”
“No. Please. Not yet.”
He continued to caress her lightly, over the ropes, occasionally pausing to toy with her hair. She opened her eyes a few moments later and came out of her daze to find him leaning over her. His earlier amusement was gone, as was his gentle concern. The look he wore now was something else. Pleased. Predatory. Part desire and part threat.
“Why haven’t you ever touched me before now?” she asked, drunk on the sensual game they were playing.
“I’ve wanted to. But we were too busy with Mozart and Tchaikovsky.” He let out a soft breath, like he’d been holding it. She’d never seen his eyes look so intense. “Want me to touch you some more?”
“You said no sex.”
“Of course, no sex. Touching isn’t sex.”
His touching felt like sex, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. “Please touch me some more, Ethan. It feels so good. This all feels so incredible and good.”
He stroked her hair back from her face, which felt impossibly gentle and sensual. She wanted him to kiss her, but he was Ethan, her quartet friend. Workplace romance was a minefield. What was happening between them? Should they stop?
She didn’t want to stop.
He traced her neck next, and she thought of teeth and biting. His lips moved like maybe he was thinking of it too, then he trailed his fingertips down to the rope crossing her chest. Her nipples actually pulsed as his fingers circled her breasts. She lay trembling beneath him, a breathless victim.
“It wasn’t fair of me to do this to you.” He touched the twists of rope that stimulated her nipples. “I knew the effect it would have.”
“I guess I trusted you.”
Their eyes met and held as his fingers moved down the lattice of knots to the belt at her waist. If he caressed any lower…
She couldn’t let him touch her down there. If he realized she was soaking through his rope, even though she had on her damn llama panties, she’d never get over the embarrassment. She shouldn’t have let him tie her below the waist. Now what the hell was she going to do?
He was tracing her hips now, that soft but sure touch of a top in control. He was so in control, and her hands were tied, along with everything else.
“I understand now,” she said, clenching her thighs together. “I get it.” She could hardly breathe, she understood so hard.
“Should I stop touching you now?”
“Maybe you should. Not because I don’t like it, but because I like it too much, and I’m thinking about crazy things.” She sighed, squirming in the rope. “Really crazy things, but there’s the quartet and everything.”
“Hmm.” A little of the heat left his gaze. “You’re right. It might not be good for the quartet, for us to take things too far.” His hand still rested on her hip, his big, talented fingers. “Not that there are any rules or anything,” he pointed out.