I swept my hand in, encouraging her to enter. She marched past me and my eyes glued themselves to her sinful ass. I shut and locked the door, then followed to find her standing in the open living room of my penthouse apartment. She stood rigid, her arms straight and hands fisted at her side.
Walking up behind her, I gently grasped her shoulders and pulled her back against my chest. “Baby, relax,” I whispered, burying my face in her thick curls. “You have to trust me. You should know I will never hurt you.” Her muscles released a small amount of tension and I placed a soft kiss just below her ear, encouraged by her shivering response. “Beyond your limits,” I clarified softly.
Letting go of her shoulders, I didn’t wait for a response. Instead, I led her to an area in front of a large fireplace where flames burned brightly. I’d left a glass of wine on the low, glossy wood table. I reached for it and handed it to her. “Drink,” I instructed.
She gave me a stubborn look and I raised an eyebrow, silently reminding her who was in charge. She huffed, but brought the wine to her lips. The long line of her throat as she swallowed and the press of her lips on the crystal captivated me.
I stifled a groan, anxious to have those plump lips wrapped around my cock, swallowing—no, there would be no swallowing until she was pregnant. I wasn’t about to waste a single drop.
When the glass was empty, she looked around, presumably for where she should put it.
“Leave it,” I said. She set the glass down and when I held my hand out, she took it without a word. I loved the sound of her voice, but her silence meant she would listen, which was vital. She needed to follow my directions very closely tonight.
The bedroom beckoned and I guided her to it. The room was dominated by a king-sized bed, specifically bared, with the exception of soft, Egyptian cotton sheets. We stopped beside it and I turned her to face me, lifting her chin with a finger. “I’m in charge tonight.” I phrased it as a statement, but waited for her to nod her agreement.
“It’s crucial that you do as I say. I said I’d never hurt you beyond your limits, but I’m going to push those limits.” Fear began to cloud her eyes, so I quickly added, “I will always stop if you ask me to.”
Again, she nodded. “You will not speak unless I give you permission, with one exception. I need you to choose a word, if you say that word, I will stop.”
Madeleine’s jade pools bored into me with a captivating intensity. “Paris,” she mumbled. Her choice curved my lips up in a soft smile and I pulled her into my arms, laying my forehead against hers.
“Paris?” I confirmed.
She leaned her head back and lifted a challenging eyebrow.
I sighed. “Don’t play games, Madeleine. I asked a question, answer it,” I said, following my mandate with a swat on her ass.
“Yes,” she snapped, “Paris.”
“Good girl.” Dropping my arms, I backed away from her and crossed them over my chest. “Undress.”
She did as she was told and with every bared inch of creamy, peach skin, my excitement grew. This night was inevitable. Whether she’d used the clause or not, we would have ended up here eventually, but watching her strip and knowing what was coming, I found myself glad I didn’t have to wait.
Once she was naked, I retrieved my bag from the floor and set it on the bed. There were several coils of soft, cotton rope and I removed them, leaving the rest of the contents for later. Her attention focused on the cord in my hands and she bit her bottom lip, betraying her nerves.
“Madeleine,” I waited for her to lock our gazes, “eyes on me. I need to see your face. Do you understand?”
She nodded and I swiftly gripped her chin, squeezing just enough to assert my control. “When I ask you a question, you will answer with words.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good. I promise to explain everything as we go.” For the first time that night, I brushed my lips across hers. “I will take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”
I’d spent a lot of years working my way through the beautiful women of Manhattan and experimenting with different methods of sex and pleasure. I’d eventually discovered Kinbaku, a specialty rope bondage also referred to as Shibari. The intricacies of the knots and level of control held by the rigger fascinated me and I’d taken classes to become a rope master.
I started with breast bondage, tying a rope around Madeleine’s mouthwatering tits in an intricate and decorative pattern, leaving the globes bare. I spoke as I worked, detailing what I was doing and checking her comfort level while running my fingers underneath the wrap of rope to even the tension and adjust. I wasn’t surprised to see growing interest in her expression as I worked, the chemistry between us burning hotter than ever before.