He might be in charge, but she still had the control, the power to make him crazy with lust for her. She snagged her panties with her thumbs and slowly slid them down her thighs, stepping out of them and leaving herself bare for his hungry perusal.
He blinked rapidly, his gaze falling to her bared pussy, and he hummed in the back of his throat. She was proud of her body. Several men had complimented her on it, but never once did those compliments make her feel the way she did right now with Logan. He didn’t need to use any words because everything he was thinking could be found on his face. His nostrils were flared, his eyes hooded.
He wanted her.
Which made it that much more confusing that he refused to fuck her.
“Come closer,” he ordered, his voice thick with arousal.
Her heart banged a staccato beat as she took a step toward him.
He placed the bandanas on the bed and dangled the rope from his hand. “I’m not going to gag you or blindfold you until I’m finished binding you because I want you to see what I’m doing and to let me know if the ropes are too tight.” He motioned for her to turn around with his finger.
She faced away from him and hissed out a breath as his arms circled her under her breasts. “I’m going to start like I did at Benediction. And for your research, this is called Shibari.”
“Japanese rope bondage, right?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the fact Logan’s fingers were brushing the sides of her breasts and that her nipples had perked up, as if begging to get in on the action.
“Did your homework, huh?” She heard the amusement in his voice. “Anyone can tie a knot, but there’s something esthetically beautiful in Shibari. It turns rope into art.” While he placed the rope under her breasts, his thumbs stroked lazily over her distended nipples, back and forth, as if they had all the time in the world.
Her breath whooshed out of her, half hiss and half moan. She trembled, already feeling as though she was losing control of her body, and he’d only barely touched her. “I know for a fact you weren’t into kink when you met Kate, so when did you start practicing Shibari?”
Logan and Kate had interned at the same law firm their final year of law school when Kate had gone undercover at Benediction to help prove her then-client, Jaxon Deveroux, innocent in the murder of his wife. Because Logan had helped them solve the murder and because he was now Kate’s law partner, Jaxon returned the favor by buying him a membership to Benediction.
His breath blew on her ear. “I guess it depends on how you want to define kink. I didn’t participate in the BDSM community or join a club until recently, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t tying up women and having my way with them before. I’ll admit, Shibari is new to me. When Cole discovered my interest in bondage, he introduced me to a friend of his who mentored me in Shibari and Kinbaku, which is another kind of Japanese rope bondage. But yeah”—he bit down on her earlobe and then sucked it into his mouth, easing the sting—“I’ve always been kinky.”
All too soon his mouth disappeared and he went back to work. She looked down, admiring the way he’d secured her heavy breasts with the silky rope. They swelled, aching for his caress. She wanted his mouth on them now, using his teeth and tongue just as he had on her earlobe, and with any other man, she would’ve demanded it. But there was something about trusting Logan would get there on his own time frame that amped up her arousal.
Her breathing slowed even as her pulse raced, a warm, syrupy sensation sweeping her body, and her eyelids grew heavier with each slide of rope on her feverish skin. The room shrunk so that all she knew was Logan. The crinkle of his brows, the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead, the slide of his tongue across his bottom lip as he concentrated on his task of tying her. He smelled like sex on a hot summer day, his scent dizzying and stimulating all at once. She couldn’t remember a time when she had been so aware of another person or when she’d enjoyed a man’s touch this much.
And he’d barely even started.
She closed her eyes and sunk into the moment, allowing herself to let go of all her thoughts and fears and just once—for research’s sake, of course—truly give her power over to another. Swaying on her feet, she trembled as Logan’s hands splayed her inner thighs, her clit throbbing and moisture slickening the folds of her pussy.
“Easy there,” he said roughly, his hands moving to her hips rather than going where she needed him the most. “You’re tipping over. Before you lie down, I want you to look at yourself in the mirror.” With a hand on her lower back, he directed her across the room. “Open your eyes, Rachel.”
Her eyes fluttered open to a vision of her reflection in the mirror hanging over the dresser. The rope crisscrossed over her breasts, creating a makeshift harness that both lifted and showcased them, her erect nipples darkened from a pink to reddish-brown. From there, the rope descended down the center of her abdomen and over the glistening dark curls of her labia, spreading them wide and exposing her wet crimson folds. It could’ve appeared crude—should have appeared crude—and yet instead, the view was highly erotic.
“You look gorgeous in my ropes,” he whispered into her ear. “And I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”
Yeah, he wasn’t the only one.
Their gazes collided in the mirror, almost tangible electricity arcing between them. Her skin felt tight, her body on fire with need. In this moment, with her breasts and pussy on display, she’d never felt more vulnerable. More desirable. More alive.
Logan stroked his hands down her arms and turned her around to face him. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and then cradled her cheek, his lips inching their way closer and closer to hers. Her eyes closed in anticipation.
His lips brushed against her forehead before he released a sigh. “I want you on the bed.” Gripping the rope underneath her breasts, he pulled her flush against him so she could feel the steel of his covered erection pressing into her belly. “Now.”
A thin thread of uncertainty trickled into her consciousness. Why hadn’t he kissed her? If it wasn’t for the proof of his arousal, she would’ve thought he wasn’t attracted to her, but what she had felt stirring beneath his briefs left little doubt as to how she affected him physically. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, so why wouldn’t he kiss her?
The answer hovered right below the surface, but she didn’t want to think right now. Maybe Logan had done her a favor. At least now, she wouldn’t confuse their sexual intimacy as anything more than a limited beneficial agreement for them both. She’d hopefully get an orgasm, and he’d get some sleep.
He led her back to the bed, each slide of the rope against her damp skin making her shiver. Then he picked up one of the bandanas, situating it over her eyes and plunging her into darkness. “Before I gag and finish binding you, how are the ropes? Are they too tight?”
She swallowed and gave him a smile. “They’re fine. Good, I mean.”
He placed a piece of fabric in her palm and closed her fingers around it. “Remember to drop the bandana from your hand if you need to stop.” On her nod, he slipped it between her lips and tied the back of it.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, the heady rush of excitement speeding through her. She allowed him to lay her back onto the bed and manipulate her limbs into position. Ropes bound her wrists together and drew them above her head. Within a minute, her arms were immobile, most likely tied to the headboard. He spread her legs and pushed her knees up, so that her feet rested on the mattress. Then ropes circled her ankles, keeping her pussy open wide for him.
Heat unfurled in her belly, spanning outward, the anticipation of what he’d do nearly driving her insane. She clutched the bandana in her palm as if the world would end if she dropped it. Without the use of her voice to command, without the use of her eyes to direct, without the use of her hands to caress, without the use of her feet to walk away, she was free to just be. To savor the moment.