Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2)(105)
He'd never used his art for seduction – or for erotic play. He knew his brothers thought he did, but for some odd reason, he had separated the two things in his mind so completely that having a woman in the ropes wasn't a turn-on to him. Women were, not the ropes. He had no interest in bondage other than as an art form. He'd learned because he studied everything about the art. He loved the old prints from Japan and he liked to study the masters' works.
The art of bondage was beautiful to him, but he'd never found it particularly seductive. Now he understood why. For him, there was Mariko. Only Mariko. He wanted to give her everything he was. The ropes were a part of him and he had extensive knowledge on how to keep her on the very edge of ecstasy for a long time. He wanted that for her. For them.
He had kept himself separate from the women he fucked. He gave them pleasure, but he didn't give them him. The ropes were part of him. A big part. No matter how sensual other women found Shibari, something in him had always refused to follow through and have sex while they were in the ropes. With Mariko, he wanted sex with or without. Any way he could have her. He wanted ultimate pleasure for her always.
He began to wrap the corset, making certain that each time he moved her body, directing her with his hands, he vibrated the rope. She rewarded him with her gasp of pleasure. He felt her body melting with each wrap of the rope. Each time he tied her, he had the sensation of wrapping her up in him. His arms. His body. His lust and love.
He laid each line with a firm command, but it was his love he was laying on her body so exposed for anyone to see. He knew she thought she was exposed to him – her secret desires, her needs, even her hunger for him. He saw all that. It was there in her body's response. The peaked nipples, hard as rocks. The damp collecting between her legs – he desperately wanted a taste of that.
She thought it was her exposure, but if she was watching, if she looked with more than her eyes, if she let the shadows tell her, it was Ricco Ferraro laying himself at her feet. She thought she'd given control over to him when she gave him the gift of her body for his canvas. In reality, she had all the control.
He knew with every line, he was exposing his love, his lust, his very need of her. His absolute commitment to her. He'd never felt so raw before or so vulnerable. Every time he'd worked with ropes, he now knew it had been a practice for this moment – with her. The ropes were wrapping her flesh and he knew that each wrap was him sinking into her, deeper and deeper.
He felt his hand tremble, when he was always confident, always the dominant. She did that to him, with the corset of red and black, the deep blue decorative triangle he'd added to the front and the herringbone spine down the back. It was more than decoration. Each pull of the rope sent vibrations teasing her body with the knotted rope wrapped around her, front to back, a part of him seducing her with every touch.
He stepped back to view his creation and it left his heart hammering, his cock hard and pounding with need. He caught the ropes between her breasts and pulled her to him, so that her body melted against his. He took her weight easily.
"Next time, I'm going to tie you on your knees, the ropes in your hair, holding it up off your neck." His teeth teased her vulnerable nape. "I keep seeing the image of you like that. I know exactly how I'm going to tie it." He had to distract himself, but there was no distraction, not even trying to think ahead. The moment he thought about tying her on her knees, her head pulled back by the rope in her hair, he couldn't stop the image of her sucking his extremely painful cock into sweet oblivion.
"Would you like that, Mariko? How do you see yourself tied?" He whispered the temptation against her neck, suckling gently but persistently until he knew there would be a small strawberry there.
Her breath came in ragged little pants. Her eyes were glazed and she fought coming back from the floating euphoria where he'd sent her. He fucking loved that.
"I love any way you tie me," she said. Her voice was soft. Her body squirmed in the ropes. Needed. Was hungry.
"I want to photograph you. For us. No one else. Are you okay with that? Can you stand where I put you?"
She touched her tongue to her lips. He groaned and traced her mouth. "I love your lips. I'm feeling a little desperate to have them under mine – or wrapped around my cock." He said it deliberately, watching her reaction closely. He wanted to seduce her, that was true, and he was willing to use any means at his disposal, but he would never want her to feel so vulnerable in the ropes that she thought he might force her to do anything she didn't want to do.