Nine-tenths of the Law

Chapter Thirty-one

Nathan’s eyebrows lifted slowly as he eyed the handcuffs in my hand. Then he swallowed hard and his gaze rose to meet mine. Darted back to the cuffs. Back to me.

“Are you-” He glanced at the cuffs again. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged, the subtle movement jarring the handcuffs and making the chain rattle slightly. Nathan shivered.

“It’s your call, but I’m willing to if-” I hesitated. “If you trust me.”

He chewed his lip and neither looked at me nor the cuffs in my hand. My heart pounded. This was a bad idea. What the fuck was I thinking?

“Nathan-”

His eyes suddenly met mine, but the movement didn’t seem to be in response to his name. The way he drew a breath and shifted his posture-losing the uncertain expression in both face and body-struck me as coming from something in his mind. An end to an internal debate, a conclusion drawn.

Moistening his lips, he simply nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Another nod.

“First things first,” I said. “Safe word. You know how that works, right?”

“I say it, everything stops.”

“Exactly. Any ideas?”

He shrugged. “How about just ‘stop’?”

I shook my head. “Has to be something neither of us would use normally during sex at all. Like a color or something.”

Grinning, he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever had cause to say ‘stop’ during sex with you.”

“You know what I mean.” I laughed. “There has to be a big different between ‘stop that’ and ‘stop everything’.”

“Okay, how about…” He thought for a second. “Cigarette?”

I shrugged. “Works for me.” Nervous smoker. Thinking about smoking. Yeah, I’m definitely making him nervous. I cleared my throat. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be.” He gave me a reassuring smile.

I inhaled slowly, hoping he didn’t see my own nervousness. Though he seemed less uncertain now, I couldn’t say the same about myself. Was this really a good idea? I’d never done BDSM unless I was one hundred percent certain that I had the other person’s trust. But in this case, I could think of no other way to gain his trust than to ask for it this way-make him take the leap of faith out of his comfort zone-and not take advantage of it.

Yet I was the one who was nervous. This could blow up in my face so easily, almost too easily. A wrong move. Pushing him too far. Even letting him sense my own worries. This could be five steps forward or ten back.

Do not fuck this up, I warned myself.

“Give me your hand,” I said quietly.

Without even flinching, he did so, extending the arm closest to me. I held his wrist gently, my eyes flicking back and forth between his arm and his face in search of a sign, any sign, that he wasn’t as comfortable with this as he let on, but he gave me nothing. No subtle recoil when I touched him, no goose bumps when the cuffs creaked open, no bob of the Adam’s apple or sweep of the tongue across his lips.

The knot in my gut loosened. Maybe he really is okay with this. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

Then the cuff touched his wrist.

Twin shudders rippled up his arm and spine, ending in a sharp intake of breath. He swallowed hard, and his eyebrows jumped as his gaze darted toward the cuff, which was still open. Pressed against his skin, probably colder to him than it was to me, but open.

I looked at him, making no move to bind him until he gave me the go-ahead. “You okay?” I asked.

Warily, he eyed the space between us where hands and metal intersected, the crossroads that seemed to have caught him off guard. It was a simple thing, a thin piece of metal encircling his wrist, but it put him at my mercy. Under my control. For someone as unpleasantly acquainted with trust as Nathan, it was a simple but terrifying thing.

His arm didn’t move. Neither did my hands. I needed him to tell me whether to proceed or back away. I had a feeling he needed me to tell him which way to go. We’d reached an impasse. A stalemate.

His Adam’s apple bobbed again. The unspoken safe word hung in the air, waiting to be said.

I started to speak, but his other hand moved. Slowly, but not hesitantly, he reached across to where our hands were still in suspended animation. His fingers nudged mine away from the open cuff and panic lodged my breath in my throat. Shit, shit, I shouldn’t have-

Metal creaked. Clicked.

I looked down just as he moved his free hand away.

He’d closed the cuff around his own wrist.

Our eyes met briefly. I took a breath and nodded toward his hand, then the headboard. He raised his hand over his head, letting it rest on the pillow. The other cuff clanged against one of the slats. Nathan shivered, but he seemed to try to suppress it. He was nervous, but willing. Uneasy, but still here.

I laced the other cuff between the vertical slats, then brought it around and gestured for him to give me his free hand. With only the slightest hint of reluctance, he obeyed.

I closed the cuff around his wrist, tightening it enough to prevent him from slipping his hand free, but still leaving some room for him to move.

“Is that comfortable?” I asked.

He gulped. “Comfortable isn’t the word I’d use.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He paused, glancing up at the silver shackles around his wrists. With less certainty than before, he added, “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “So, um…” He cleared his throat, probably trying to hide his nerves. “What exactly are you planning to do?”

“Do you trust me?”

He hesitated, straining to look at his bound hands. “Yes.”

I bent to kiss him. “Then don’t worry about it.” I knew it unsettled him, the vulnerability of restraint, but whether he knew it or not, he was more in control than I was. Any control he surrendered, he did so willingly. The more he surrendered, the longer he let me bind him this way, the more he’d understand that I wouldn’t hurt him. If he could grasp that physically, maybe he’d understand it emotionally, too.

Still, I wasn’t in this to completely freak him out. I guided his fingers to the quick release on each side of the handcuffs. “If you want to open them, just push that switch.” I did exactly that, and the cuff fell open. With just that momentary freedom, or simply the knowledge that an easy escape was close by, his entire body relaxed. Even when I fastened the bracelet around his wrist again, only some of the nervous tension returned.

His thumb wandered over the release tab, testing it, though not enough to actually open the cuff. Then his eyes darted toward me. “Isn’t that what the safe word is for?”

“It is,” I said. “But the safe word only works if you say it and I comply with it-” His eyebrows jumped, his body tensing and his thumb pressing a little harder on the release. I quickly added, “Which, of course, I will. But this way…” I nodded toward his hands. “You have a way out that’s within your control.”

At that, he visibly relaxed. He exhaled and laced his fingers together, evidently satisfied that his escape switch was close enough for his comfort. I took that as a good sign.

“Guess you get to be in control this time.” He laughed nervously as I sat up.

“Sort of,” I said.

“Sort of?”

I ran my fingertips down his chest and abs, biting my lip when his muscles quivered at my touch. “Handcuffs or no,” I said, “I’m never completely in control when I’m around you.”

“If you-” He sucked in a breath as my fingers trailed over his hipbone. “If you haven’t been, then you’ve been fooling me.” There as an almost imperceptible lilt in his voice, a nervous sound, as if he was searching for uncertainty in me. Or reassurance that he hadn’t just agreed to surrender control to someone who was on the verge of losing it himself.

I leaned over him and kissed his neck. “Believe me, Nathan,” I growled against his throat. “I’m lucky I can breathe when you’re around.” Kissing my way up to the underside of his jaw, I said, “I haven’t been completely in control since the day you walked into The Epidauran.”

He let out a ragged breath. “So I’m not the only one.”

“Not even close.” I kissed him, then worked my way back down his neck. “And having you like this…” I flicked my tongue across his collarbone, laughing softly when he shivered. “…having you completely at my mercy…” I ran my tongue around his nipple. “…is hotter than you can fucking imagine.”

Another breath and another shiver, but it was different this time. Arousal, not nervousness. Still teasing his nipple with my tongue, I let my hand drift down his side and rest on his hipbone. The tip of my thumb followed the groove between his hip and thigh, running back and forth, barely touching, stopping just shy of his cock every time. His body trembled every time my thumb came close, and he growled with frustration every time it drew away.

I kissed the center of his chest and worked my way down. I moved as slowly as I could, inching down his abs one kiss at a time, giving every tremor time to come and go completely before creating the next.

Metal jingled as his body tensed. His eyes were closed, his lips parted.

“You okay?” I asked, making sure my breath hit his skin just right to make him shake.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he whispered. He bit his lip and furrowed his brow, eyes still shut tight, and I hesitated to continue.

“Are you-”

“Don’t stop,” he said. “Please, just don’t stop.” That’s when I realized his words were slurred, his ability to speak ebbing with every breath.

I drew a small circle with the tip of my tongue just above his navel, then blew on it, watching the goose bumps appear on his skin.

Metal crunched against the wooden bed frame as Nathan’s entire body tensed. I glanced up, grinning at the sight of his trembling muscles and the cords standing out on his neck. His forearms rippled and, though I couldn’t see them, I guessed his hands were curled into tight fists, pulling the chain against the bed frame. He whimpered softly as my tongue teased his skin, dangerously close to his cock, still refusing to touch him the way I knew he wanted.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

“Am I frustrating you, Nathan?”

“You could say that, yes.”

I laughed and flicked my tongue across his cock. I did it only once, but it was enough to lift his spine off the bed.

“You fucking tease,” he growled. The chain ground against the bed frame, emphasizing his aggravation.

“I could do this all night,” I whispered against his skin. “Touching you…” I closed my fingers around his cock, stroking slowly. “…tasting you…” I ran my tongue along the whole length of his cock, barely keeping myself from coming as a shudder lifted his torso almost completely off the bed. “…teasing you.”

“Torturing me is more like it,” he said through chattering teeth.

I laughed and kissed his skin just to feel it quiver. “I think you’re enjoying it, though.” It was meant to sound playful, but I wanted confirmation. Just to be sure I hadn’t pushed him too far. Though I had done little more than tease him, I was on high alert for any indication, however subtle, that he wasn’t comfortable with this. I’d seen experienced subs suddenly buckle and beg to be released, and those were situations built on foundations a bit more solid than this makeshift effigy of trust.

“Zach?”

His voice brought me out of my tangle of thoughts, and I looked up. He’d raised his head and now watched me.

“You stopped,” he said. He was right. My hand had stopped, and all I’d done was breathe on him.

“I-” I paused. Didn’t want him to think I had doubts. All of this had to be part of my game, or else he’d get nervous. I grinned at him. “Just seeing if you were paying attention.”

He let his head fall back onto the pillow, laughing softly. Without being able to see his face, I couldn’t tell if that laugh was a nervous sound or if he was just wound up.

But it was up to him to tell me if he was nervous or uncomfortable, so I continued, if cautiously.

I stroked his cock, gripping tighter, then barely touching him, then gripping tighter again. He trembled at my touch, groaning every time my fingers tightened around him.

On one of the down strokes, my mouth joined, following my hand almost all the way to the base.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. The handcuffs rattled against the headboard, and he cursed again. “Fuck, Zach, that’s…” He trailed off, but he’d said enough to reassure me that he was still very much a willing participant. Frustrated, maybe, but uncoerced.

Abandoning my worries, I focused on what I was doing. Stroking, sucking, slowing down, speeding up. I teased him relentlessly, driven by his moans and pleas, by metal rattling against wood.

He squirmed beneath me, metal grinding against the bed frame as the chain protested his efforts to free his hands. I wasn’t concerned, though. If he wanted to free his hands, he could. I no longer worried that he was nervous. Every sound and tremor came from a place of arousal, not fear.

Then the click of the quick release made my blood run cold.