Tangled Truth(25)

“Red?” Eva asked, when she saw the lengths of nylon braid emerge from Drew’s big duffel bag. “That’s so festive. I don’t think I’ve seen that long one before.”

Drew smiled, passing up the obvious “that’s what she said” opening. “I haven’t used this one on the shoot. I haven’t used this one in quite some time, as a matter of fact, but this is a special occasion. If you have a ponytail holder or something, you may want to put your hair up.”

He quickly found the center mark and began shaking the loops loose, snapping them out into long snaking lines of sleek, satiny crimson on the floor as Eva vacated the bed reluctantly and rummaged in her purse for a scrunchie. When she had accomplished a messy ponytail and was preparing to dive back under the covers, Drew stopped her. “It’s easiest if you stand up for this part. This is a traditional karada, by the way.”

Around Eva’s neck the rope went, Drew’s fingers nimbly weaving the symmetrical lengths back and forth to encase her torso in a series of diamond-shaped frames. He worked quickly, starting to feel nervous about his plan, hoping it would be as good as he envisioned.

“It isn’t very tight,” Eva commented. Her eyes were half closed, and her breathing was getting that shaky edge that Drew recognized. He’d been careful to form the lowest knot on her belly higher than usual, to leave her clit exposed, but she was moving her hips gently as though she were rubbing that sensitive spot against the restraints. The rope was working its magic, warming her up, pulling her under its spell. His spell, in a way.

“This way I get to keep it on you longer,” he explained, turning her around to secure the rope behind her back. He couldn’t resist pulling her toward him, pressing himself into her, falling a little under the spell of the rope himself.

“Yes…” Eva whispered, lifting her hands to twine her fingers in his hair.

“Not yet,” he said firmly, as much to himself as to anyone.

“There’s more?”

“If you’re willing.”

“Should I be concerned?” She didn’t sound concerned. She sounded dreamy, and sultry, and he wanted to throw her on the bed and ravish her.

Patience.

“I don’t think so. Lie down on the bed,” he directed. “On your back.”

She did it without question, obviously enjoying the movement of the ropes against her body and between her legs as she moved. The vivid red stood out like a beacon against her fair skin, and Drew had to close his eyes a moment before he could walk back over to his bag.

He pulled out the four additional ropes, also red but shorter, and approached the bed with them in his hand. Tossing one at each corner, he let Eva begin to draw her own conclusions as he turned to one of her wrists and secured it to the tethering rope with a simple cat’s paw tie.

When he looked back up, she was watching him, her lower lip firmly caught between her teeth.

“The door’s locked,” she whispered. He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or reassuring herself, but he nodded.

She didn’t protest as he moved down to the foot of the bed and tied one of her ankles, leaving plenty of play in the rope. Then up to the other wrist, which she offered to him without comment.

Drew hesitated before securing Eva’s other foot, his confidence nearly faltering when he heard her breathing out heavily through pursed lips. He waited, but she didn’t withdraw or protest, and after a moment he slipped the rope around her ankle in its tidy twists and then turned back to look at the whole of her.

She was breathtaking. A study in ivory against the charcoal gray of his sheets, with the bright red rope crisscrossing her body and highlighting all the most delectable bits to perfection. Opened completely to his view, bound in place, unable to hide.

“Amazing,” he said, groaning at the ache the vision conjured in his groin. His cock was rearing up, hard and eager, throbbing its own approval of his handiwork. He could see the want, the need in Eva’s eyes, but he also saw the anxiety lurking there.

“Try to get away,” he suggested. He moved on to the bed and straddled her hips, letting her test the limits of her bonds. They were secure, and the exercise seemed to settle her somehow. “How does it feel?”

“I’m not sure. Drew, please.”

“Please what?”

She laughed, sounding happy and nervous. “I’m not sure.”

“How do you feel when you’re all tied up, Eva? When the ropes are wrapped around you and you can’t get away? Close your eyes and tell me what you feel.”

She stared at him a few seconds before letting her eyes flutter to a close, her eyelashes forming a lovely fringe against her pale cheek. The little frown mark between her eyes started to fade as she spoke. “I feel the ropes against me. I like the way they pull when I move, like they’re reminding me they’re there. I like feeling them against my ribs when I breathe, and…”