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She watched with heated eyes as I draped the cord around the back of her waist in the same way her chain had hung from her last night. Drawing the rope around her navel, I tied a knot, pulled it tight.
“Da. Maybe a little,” I answered, leaning to kiss her bellybutton.
With the rope anchored around her waist, I doubled it around her back then pulled one end diagonally across her pelvis to the taut tendon at the top of her thigh. Doing the same with the other end to her opposite thigh, I crisscrossed her pelvis and threaded those ends up over her big ass.
Roya’s hands came down to rest on my shoulders, her nails digging into my muscles conveying her nervousness.
“Tying you up like this forces you to concentrate solely on your body and what I’m doing to it.” I met her hazy eyes, making two knots with the long ends of the rope circling her waist.
Between the red jute ropes, her cunt flushed and her lips glistened.
Finally, I ran the two tails alongside her clit, through her shiny slit, and then up the crevice of her ass.
“Aris . . . ohhhh.” Her head fell back, her hips weaving.
I moved quickly to tie the loose ends to the back of the rope around her waist.
She was trussed all around her ass and pelvis with the slim, soft cord cinched between her pussy lips . . . wrapped like the most perfect fucking present in the world.
Her clit would be stimulated with every movement of her body.
I tugged the waist rope, and she pulsed outward. “You are in your mind too much. Worrying about how to act because of your rank and status instead of simply feeling.”
A hush came over her.
That wouldn’t last for long. She was only momentarily lulled.
“When I saw you in that skintight, blood-colored skirt, I knew you’d worn it for me.” I rose in front of her and tapped a fingertip against her swollen clit. “You always wear red for me.”
She coiled back, almost stumbling. “I did no such thing. I wear it for me.”
I grabbed her, lifted her, and placed her more gently than ever before on the bed. Again, my careful treatment of her—whereas I’d always just tossed her around—confused her. A small frown strayed between her brows.
Straddling her legs, I pinned her thighs together.
After unwinding the heaviest rope, I began a new series of knots. I corded the shibari jute in and out down her thighs, almost like a braid that lashed her upper legs together all the way to her knees.
“A red flag to a predator. That’s what that skirt was to me.” Bending over her, I spoke in her ear, nipping the shell of it. “A red standard to a bull, gauging whether I’d fight for you or not.” I brought her palm to my hard cock. “I will fight for you, Roya.”
“To get payback from my father.” Despite her words, her voice was like warm, thick syrup running over my body, and her fingers curved around my shaft.
I let her stroke me once before placing her hand back on the bed.
“The skirt, though, all but hobbled your movements and gave me so many ideas about using these ropes on you.” I pulled up on the cords buttressing the pulsing jewel of her clit, causing her hips to roll. “Don’t worry. They won’t leave marks on you, but I might.”
Her hands now lay lax, palms up on the bed. Her gaze languorous, she was beginning to drift along with my voice, floating into my caresses and the sensation of the ropes.
Hovering above her, I dragged my thumb through her slick, cinched sex. The lips swelled out, a luscious sheen coating her.
I regarded her as muscles stamped to high relief on my body, equally as turned on and ready to rut. To fucking mate her.
To finally take her.
I had to stop myself from simply nailing her into the mattress, sitting back once again to look her over. The jute was a deep, carnal red, so fine against her caramel complexion. Her pelvis rolled in minute movements, the ropes nuzzling her intimate flesh magnifying need.
“I’ve finally got you where I want you, Roya.” I picked up the third rope, contemplating the many ways I could compress her breasts, make the pressure build in her nipples.
A hard gleam appeared in her eyes. “You just want to keep me under your thumb. Until you have no use for me anymore.”
She was bratting, to be expected. Trying to provoke a harsher reaction from me. She wanted to shy away from the truth going on here.
I wouldn’t let her.
I smiled sharply, trailing the final cord down between her tits then across both plum-colored peaks.
Then I flipped her over to her knees, and she moaned as the ropes rubbed her again, even nudging the ring of her tight little asshole.
I butted up against that nice big ass, slipping my wildly hard cock along her tight fleshy crease and lowering my hand to palm her pussy. A whole fucking world of wetness had opened up, soaking my palm as I slid fingertips just beneath her clit as her hole spasmed.
“Nyet. To let you be who you truly are,” I said hoarsely.
“I’ve heard about this stuff. I’m not a submissive. I’m no man’s toy.”
“I know. You just have tendencies.” Backing up, I lowered my head. My breath pelted against the engorged, narrow gap of her cunt when I spoke. “And you need that ultimate release.” I licked up through that tight wet aperture. “You need to come. And to gush all over me.”
I lapped her again, listening to the steamy moans she could no longer control. I pulled the cords and skimmed my hands over the ropes crossing the backs of her thighs.
I tasted her trickling juices with light touches of my tongue.
She began drifting into each caress, no longer fighting, only feeling.
When I turned her over again, Roya arched toward me but otherwise didn’t move.
“I was going to bind your tits too, but I think you’re already there,” I whispered roughly, placing a kiss just above the dark button of her clit.
Then, settling fully on top of her, I took her quivering into my body, pulling her down completely.
Our kiss that time went deeper, to the edges of my heart, deep into my gut, definitely to the seat of my balls.
“You can touch me now, prinkípissa,” I murmured against her lips.
Finally given permission she hadn’t known she wanted, she gave out a strangled mewl as her hands cruised up the sinews of my arms.
Blyad, yessss.
