“It really is something how you were able to create this out of a single stretch of rope, and with only one hand.”
“Yeah. The first time I saw a shibari scene, I was hooked. It’s not only creative, but for the person doing the tying, the rigger, it also requires a lot of knowledge about the body, like where bundles of nerves are and the circulatory system, so they know what’s safe to do. If you’re going to suspend someone, you need to know a lot about anchors and pulleys and leverage. I love the challenge.”
When she pulls her hands away, I tell myself I can’t miss her touch when she wasn’t touching me to begin with. Needing another distraction now that the other one is done, I get up and head for the bar. “You want another drink?” I ask, pouring myself another three fingers of Teeling 32-year-old single malt.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Lifting the glass to my lips, I stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a drink.
“Why don’t you do a tie on me right now?”
The liquid almost goes down the wrong pipe, but I save myself with a quick clearing of my throat. Turning to face her, I raise my brows. “You sure?”
Taryn lifts her chin obstinately as though I’ve dared challenge her. I imagine there aren’t many people who question her when she says something. If we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, she’ll learn quickly I don’t pander for pandering’s sake.
“I’m curious what it will feel like, if it’s as calming as you say. But I don’t want you to do my forearm.” Then she rises from the couch and crosses to stand close enough that I have to drop my chin to hold her gaze. “I want something bigger.”
EIGHTTARYN
Staring up at Finn, I concentrate on projecting confidence I don’t entirely feel. I am sure that I want to know what it’s like to be tied, to see if it’s as he’s described it or just ends up being a decorative rope adornment. Especially as the last year has left my nerves a bit more frayed than I care to admit, so learning a calming practice to combat that would be beneficial.
What I’m not sure about is whether I can handle him touching me without my body reacting in a less than calm way.
“Something bigger,” he echoes.
“Yes. I want something more substantial so the odds of me having this euphoric experience you spoke about is higher.”
That’s a perfectly logical explanation and makes it very clear that it’s not because I want to feel his hands on me. I’m sure he’ll believe that. Even if I don’t.
“I could do a half-hitch futomomo on your leg. You’ll definitely feel something with that.”
“Okay, great,” I say, brushing my curls away from my face. “Um, I’m wearing leggings, so…”
I trail off, hoping he’ll give me some direction, which he does. It’s almost like a switch gets flipped inside him that changes his demeanor. Like his massive body is suddenly filled with authority. It’s subtle, though. He pulls his shoulders back, sets his glass down on the counter, then aims those golden honey eyes at me as he speaks in an even and intentional manner.
“I can do it with or without the leggings, whichever you’re comfortable with. The compression will be the same either way, you just won’t have the added sensation of the rope against your skin. It’s up to you, Princess.”
My hackles raise. “Don’t call me that,” I bite out.
He blinks, then narrows his eyes slightly like he’s trying to see something clearer. “It’s your proper title. Why wouldn’t I call you that?”
His tone isn’t sarcastic. That he sounds genuinely curious takes some of the sting out of my ire. “I left that life behind a long time ago. That’s not who I am anymore.”
Thankfully, Finn readily accepts my answer without any further prodding. “Then it’s up to you, Taryn.”
“Thank you. And I want the full experience, please.”
He nods. “Go get changed into some shorts. Before you come back out, I want you to choose three coils of rope you want me to use. You’ll also see a pair of surgical scissors on the shelf to the left; bring those with you as well. I’ll wait here.”
I hesitate, rooted in place by the change of tone in his voice, the way he’s stoically waiting for me to obey as though he has no doubt I will. If he were any other male and this were any other situation, I’d be handing him his ass right now, either verbally or physically. But, strangely, the desire to challenge him doesn’t come.
I’ve always been a warrior; from the time I was a young Fireling and went behind my mother’s back to train with her general, to fighting alongside Dmitri in various wars over the centuries. I pride myself on being every bit as lethal as any male I come up against. And although I’ve never wished to be royalty, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been in a position most of my life that causes others to defer to me as such. It’s what I’m used to, what’s expected, therefore it’s what I demand.
But there’s something different about Finnian. Maybe it’s because, from what I’ve seen, he’s such a gentle giant. He has all that power, yet he chooses to be tender and caring. It calls to my feminine side in a way that makes me want to revel in my smallness, to willingly accept defeat beneath his massive frame. And it’s a feeling that both thrills and terrifies me.
I’ve been starved for conversation, for company…for the touch of another, even if platonically, for so long. So why wouldn’t I explore something designed to give me all three? Satisfied with my rationale, I turn and head for his room. When I get to the door, though, I pause and look back. “I’ll take that drink now. Whatever you’re having is fine.”
Feeling better I gave a command of my own, I disappear into the bedroom without waiting for his acknowledgment. Before dealing with the clothing situation, I enter the Closet o’ Kink. I procure the scissors and choose three coils of pink rope in varying shades—baby pink, bubblegum, and fuchsia—then set them on the bed while I remove my leggings.
I start to grab a pair of shorts, then stop when the little devil on my shoulder gives me a better idea. Since I’m no longer chilled, I leave the oversized hoodie on the bed, grab the supplies, and walk back into the living area in my tank top and black panties.
Finn is standing in front of the couch when he sees me, holding a glass of whiskey in each hand. I’ve barely known him for twenty-four hours, but I’m good at learning people. Something tells me that if I’d come out of the room like this earlier, he would’ve spun around to avoid seeing something his honor commanded he shouldn’t.
This Finn, however, doesn’t do that at all. The only indication of his surprise is a slight widening of his honey eyes before they recover to settle heavily on me as I make my way around to him. Giving him a small smile, I hold up the rope and scissors.
“Here you go.”
A muscle in his jaw tics. “What happened to putting on shorts?”
I blink my eyes in feigned innocence. “Sorry, does this bother you, little Darkling?”
I shift the coils to my left arm and take one of the glasses he’s holding. Peering coyly at him through my lashes, I sip on the whiskey and revel in the smooth heat as it goes down. Finn tilts his head like he’s considering my response, and possibly the options for his.
Stepping in close, he places the side of his forefinger under on my chin and tips my head up while tsking. “Such sass. If we were in a dynamic, I’d have some creative punishments for disobeying my directive.”
Bless Brigid. Every drop of saliva in my mouth evaporates. I don’t know what he means by a dynamic, nor do I have an idea of just how creative he can be with punishments, but that isn’t stopping my thighs from squeezing together simply from the deviant undertones simmering behind his words.
“And the answer to your question is ‘fuck no.’ It wouldn’t bother me if you stood here completely naked. In fact, that’s how I prefer to tie my bottoms.” His eyes have darkened to a burnt umber, his stare pinning me with invisible weight. “So, Taryn, if you’d like to know what it’s like to be well and truly bound by me, be a good little rope bunny and get rid of the rest.”
