Tie Me

Chapter Six

Dawn tried to get lost in her music. Tried, but failed. She was so aware of Kellen standing in the dark several feet behind her right shoulder that he might as well have been plastered to her back. She wanted to feel that enormous bulge in his shorts pressing into her spine as he stood behind her. She’d give anything for those strong, masculine hands to reach around her to cup her breasts. For his thumbs to rub the unbearable ache from her stiff nipples. She squirmed on the bench, trying to alleviate some of the matching ache in the swollen flesh between her thighs.

Now that she knew the pieces of the entire song, Dawn needed to write it down so she could scan it and fax it to her agent in the morning. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see score paper and if the lights came on, she feared Kellen would find a good excuse to leave. Even if he refused to give in to her lame attempts at seduction, she didn't want him to go. She found his company inspiring. His interactions with his friend Owen seemed a little odd, but the way he described Shibari—which she'd never heard of before—had her squirming on the bench again. She was squirming so often that Kellen probably thought she had to pee. But her urgency was caused by something else entirely.

As she progressed through the music, she reached the second stanza, the one that had taken on the cadence of the ocean. Of sex.

Kellen released a sensual sigh, and it took every shred of willpower she possessed not to tackle him to the ground, straddle him, and show him the rhythm of her body. She'd never been with a musician before. She'd lusted after Pierre and imagined him making love to her—taking her virginity—but nothing had ever come of that infatuation. Not one of her few lovers had possessed the soul of an artist. Was that why she was so uncharacteristically fast around Kellen? Was it the spiritual connection between the musical part of their beings that made her want him at any cost, or was it just because he was so damned easy on the eyes?

No, it had to be more than that. She felt him. Even in the dark, she was under his spell, so it couldn't be only his looks.

So how did she get him to move beyond the dead woman who'd been lucky enough to win his heart? She didn't care if Kellen broke his vow to what’s-her-name; his fidelity ran so deep it was a liability. But she did care if her come-ons hurt him. She didn't want to hurt him. She wanted to get lost in him. She wanted him to show her his rope-tying art and how letting go of her control to him could be freeing. She wanted to know all of him—good and bad, spiritual and physical. She wanted him.

So if she had to squirm around on this bench unfulfilled all night, she'd do it. The worst he could do was leave her here alone.

When she reached the end of the piece, she allowed the last note to ring. This was her best work, she decided. Like the melody that had won the Grammy, this composition rang true, as if the notes had always been inside her and had just been looking for an outlet. Kellen had drawn them from her subconscious. She didn't know if he realized his influence.

"Thanks for helping me with the song," she said quietly.

“Is it finished?”

“Mostly.” A bit of that old anxiety twisted in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it wasn’t as good as she thought it was. “Does it sound incomplete?”

"It's perfect," he said breathlessly.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Perfect. That’s what she’d been going for. "I don't think I could have done it without you. Do you want me to give you credit as cowriter?"

"No," he said. "I didn't do anything but listen."

And apparently that was exactly what she’d needed. His presence had helped. The undeniable sexual attraction she felt for him had reached deep inside her and unleashed a daring and incredibly sensual force within her—one she had never recognized existed, but welcomed.

"Dawn," Kellen whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any rope? Something soft that won't damage your skin."

The surge of moisture between her legs was accompanied by a soft moan. Was he really going to tie her?

"There's a decorative rope along the banister around the upstairs loft," she said. "It has seashells and little red starfish hanging from it, but they’ll come off easily. Will that work?"

"It will have to."

Dawn stumbled as she rose from the piano bench. "I'll get some candles. You get the rope. My bedroom is at the top of the stairs on the right. I’ll meet you there."

"Not on your bed," he said. "On the piano."

Dawn’s womb clenched and her mouth dropped open. A piano didn't sound like the most comfortable place to be tied up or tied down—she still wasn't positive what tying entailed—but it sounded sexy as hell. She bit her lip and nodded, not sure if he could see the gesture in the dark, but if she spoke, she was certain any words would come out as one long moan of longing. Days spent imagining her piano teacher making love to her on the lid of her daddy’s baby grand hadn’t prepared her for the impact of those three words—on the piano—spoken from Kellen’s lips. Like every woman, she’d lusted after men, but not like this. Not with body and mind. Not to this degree. This was completely new for her, and the strength of it made her quiver in places she didn’t know could move on their own accord.

She bumped into him as she attempted to find the kitchen. He caught—and held—her loosely by both arms. She felt his body heat, but he didn’t drag her against him the way she wished he would. He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t grab her ass to crush her mound against his erection. Oh God, why wasn’t he doing any of those things? All of those things?

Oh, please, Kellen.

“Are you sure about this?” he said, close to her ear.

If he hadn’t been holding her arms, she probably would have sunk to the floor.

“Does it hurt?” she heard herself ask. Did she care? Some part of her did, apparently, but the primal part of her that he’d awakened didn’t give a fig if she felt discomfort.

“Not at all,” he said. “Being bound is a physical experience, but it affects most people psychologically as well. Being helpless will probably push you out of your comfort zone. If you’re not sure you want to do this, you need to say so now. If you back out once I get started, I’m not sure I’ll survive. I need to see my work finished. This has become a spiritual ritual for me. It’s… it’s hard to explain. I will stop if you make me, but I’d rather not start if you have reservations.”

She wanted to understand his words by experiencing his spiritual ritual for herself. “I’m sure. I don’t have reservations.”

He drew her against him at long last and gave her a friendly hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She melted against him, pressing her palms against his back to draw him closer. She wanted more than a friendly embrace. She wanted some heat. Passion. She sensed it in him. How did she unleash it? She turned her face into his neck and couldn’t resist rubbing her lips against his flesh.

He dropped his arms and pulled away. “I’ll go find that rope,” he said. A brief flash of lightning showed his retreating back and then he was gone again.

Was she really throwing herself so willingly at this guy?

A side table scraped against the floor several feet away. “Damn it,” Kellen cursed. “I’m not sure if my toes are going to make it through the night.”

Yeah, she was totally throwing herself at this guy. She hoped to God that he planned to catch her.

She smiled and turned to shuffle carefully in the direction of the kitchen for those candles. Maybe they’d save Kellen’s toes from utter destruction.

Dawn located several pillar candles and the lighter for the grill and hurried back to the family room. She set the candles on a nearby side table—probably the same one that Kellen’s toe had become acquainted with—and lit all three candles. She placed the nearby lamp on the floor and glanced up at the banister that ran the periphery of the second floor loft. The whimsical rope garland that had charmed her the first time she’d glimpsed it now made her shudder with longing. The candles gave off just enough light for her to see Kellen’s hands freeing the long lengths of blue and tan rope. He was none too gentle with the seashells that had hung from the ropes. Several of them rained down from above.

“Almost got it,” he said after a moment.

She couldn’t see him well, but she imagined he had a perfect view of her standing below the loft, gawking up at him. She was so anxious to get started that a cadence of hurry, hurry, hurry began to sound in her head. Not wanting to appear as desperate as she felt, she grabbed a sheet of score paper and sat at the piano to write down the notes of the now completed composition. Her current favorite because it so reminded her of Kellen and all the things she wished he would do to her. If not tonight, then sometime in the near future.

Using a pencil, she marked the notes quickly, the melody filtering through her head as surely as if she’d been playing it aloud. She’d make the piece look pretty before she sent it off, but she had to get it down. The familiar task calmed her and ate away the time that she’d have spent pacing while she waited for Kellen.

She didn’t realize he was standing behind her until she heard a clink against the floor. She glanced over her shoulder. He was watching her with a look somewhere between fascination and terror.

She tossed her pencil aside and collected the score sheets into a haphazard pile. He seemed to be having second thoughts, but she wasn’t going to let him change his mind. She should have gone up to help him with the rope so he didn’t have time to think of that other woman—Sara.

“Sorry, I interrupted,” he said. “If you need to work, I’ll—”

“No.” She cut him off before he could say leave. She knew that’s what he was going to say, and she wouldn’t let him. “I was just passing the time while I waited for you.”

She stood from the piano bench and leaned over to remove the prop that held the baby grand’s lid open. She carefully lowered the lid and slid her hands over the smooth surface. Her heart was thudding like a jackhammer, but she wasn’t going to chicken out. She always worried about doing the wrong thing, about appearances, about disappointing someone, but tonight she was doing what she wanted to do. For once, she’d forget about the pressures of the outside world and allow this man to set her free by binding her body. She still wasn’t sure what that meant, but she trusted that he was going to show her.

She again turned to him and found him clutching the long coils of rope in front of his crotch. She hoped that meant he was hiding another erection, though he couldn’t possibly be as aroused by her as she was by him.

“Will those ropes work?” she asked, nodding toward his crotch.

“They’re surprisingly soft and supple. Exactly the kind of rope I’d have selected for your first time. It’s almost like…”

“Destiny,” she said.

He smiled and leaned back against the piano for support. “Except I would have chosen a green rope instead of blue, to match the pretty flecks in your hazel eyes.”

He’d noticed her eye color? She loved that he’d been paying that much attention to detail. It meant he was interested. Didn’t it?

“Blue for the ocean,” she said. “Like our song.” She stiffened suddenly. “That’s it.”

“That’s what?”

“The name of our song. Blue. I’ll call it Blue.”

“Doesn’t blue usually mean sad?” he said. “That song is joyous, not blue. It made me feel happier than I’ve felt in five years.”

Her breath caught, and she felt a strange prickling behind her eyes. Her work had touched him that deeply? “It did?”

He nodded.

“What would you call it?” she asked him.

“Dawn.”

“Yes?”

“No, that’s what I’d call it. Dawn.”

She grinned. “Kind of narcissistic to name a song after yourself, isn’t it?”

“But it’s like dawn. A beautiful departure from darkness. The end of the inky night sky. The awakening of light that turns the sky blue again. The beginning of a new day.”

Though her tummy was a jumble of butterflies, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. She knew he wasn’t just saying strings of pretty words to woo her—though they were quite effective in that regard—but that he really felt what he was saying. And she realized he felt that way about her. She was his dawn. The end of his darkness.

Or maybe she was just wishful thinking.

“Take off your dress,” he said.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. So maybe he wasn’t as romantic as she thought.

“I mean, if you’re ready to begin,” he said.

She was. She just had whiplash from the speed at which he changed gears.

Dawn unfastened the wide belt at her waist, letting the strap of leather fall to the floor.

She grabbed the skirt of the loose dress and took a deep breath before tugging the entire garment over her head. She tossed it aside, standing before him in her white lace bra and panties.

The heat of his gaze made her blush, and a powerful shame drew her hands to cover herself as much as possible.

“Don’t hide,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

She didn’t feel beautiful. She felt awkward. She’d always hated that she was so tall, that her hips were too narrow, her breasts too small, her shoulders too wide.

“Beautiful,” he said again. “I’ve never bound a woman as tall and slender as you,” he said.

She stared at her dress on the floor, willing it to rise up from its puddle and cover her again. She was certain he’d much rather use a more feminine form for his bondage sculpture. Why had she agreed to this?

His legs entered her line of sight, and the rope he’d been holding landed in a tangle on the floor. She choked back a sob when his hand cupped her shoulder and then slowly slid down the length of her arm. She was sorry she was a disappointment. That she wasn’t an ideal specimen for his art. That she wasn’t pretty enough. Wasn’t perfect.

“Can I see your back?” he asked.

She spun around. Annoyed with him. Annoyed with herself. His fingertips traced eight slow paths down her back.

“Your lines are amazing,” he said.

Yeah, her flat as a board, straight as a stick lines.

“So graceful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect body for this.”

Her brow furrowed. Perfect? But didn’t he prefer curves? “Do you think so?” She lowered her hands and looked down at her too white belly and those stupid freckles that decorated her chest.

“Can I start? I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

She nodded, feeling almost proud of her body. How weird was that?

“Just take off your bra and panties and sit up here on the piano for me?”

Whoa. Too fast. “I’d rather leave them on,” she said.

His fingertip traced the top elastic of her panties along her lower back. “I guess I can work them into the design,” he said. “If you’re more comfortable with that.”

She nodded and was surprised when he moved to the side table and blew out all three of the candles.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to do this by feel.”

“By feel?” she squeaked.

“I don’t want to get distracted by your beauty.”

She chuckled. “Okay. That was just cheesy.”

“Just stating facts.”

“You already have me in my underwear and willing to be tied and at your mercy. You can lay off the pick-up lines.”

She felt him move to stand just behind her. His palms slid over her rib cage and down her quivering belly toward her small scrap of lace modesty.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he said. “It’s probably a good idea to leave them on. Your exposed pussy would be far too tempting to resist.”

He cupped her mound and gently squeezed. Her breath stalled as she involuntarily arched against his palm.

“I can feel your heat,” he whispered into her ear. “This doesn’t have to be a sexual experience, you know.”

With Kellen in charge, yes, it did.

“I can’t help it,” she said. “Just being in the same room as you turns me on. How do you expect me to react when you touch me in the dark?”

“Just as long as you realize I’m not going to make love to you. Not because I don’t want to or because you aren’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever touched, but because I made a promise I’ll never break.”

Dawn scowled. That fucking dead girl again.

“If you want, I will make you come, though,” he whispered. “Give you more orgasms than you can stand.”

So maybe his inability to break a promise wasn’t really a burden after all.

“Do you want that, Dawn? Do you want to come?”

“Y-y-yes.”

His hand slipped into her panties. When his middle finger slipped over her fully engorged clit, her legs buckled. He drew her back against him until his hard cock was prodding her in the ass. She squirmed against him, wanting that big thick shaft buried deep inside her already.

He bit her ear and eased her around the piano until she faced the keyboard.

“Play my song while I make you come for the first time,” he demanded quietly.

As if she could argue with that request.

She fumbled with the keys and didn’t start at the beginning. She started with the second stanza. The one that rose and fell like the waves, like a lover possessing what was hot and achy and swollen and wet just for him.

Kellen stroked her clit with the cadence of the song, rocking slightly against her with each soft and sensual caress. He wasn’t rubbing her to get her off—he was increasing her need to a feverish level. When she reached the final crescendo, he sent her flying. Song forgotten, she clung to the keyboard and cried out with release as her pussy clenched hard on the emptiness between her legs.

Needing more, much more, Dawn bent forward so that the stiff cock that had been scarcely rubbing against her ass was lodged firmly in her cleft. The only thing separating his hard flesh from her slick heat was a pair of lace panties and a thin pair of boxer shorts.

He jerked his hand out of her panties and stepped back, sending the piano bench tumbling backward with a crash.

In the silence that followed, she was only aware of her ragged breathing and his. The intense pleasure began to recede as she slowly regained her bearings. Her release had been fantastic, but hardly satisfying. She wanted more of him. All of him. Inside her.

“I knew I should have bound you before I touched you,” he said. “Do you think I’m made of willpower? You can’t rub up against me like that and expect me to keep my promise to Sara.”

But she didn’t want him to keep his promise to Sara. Dawn wanted to fuck Kellen until she could no longer feel her legs. But he didn’t want her enough to give her what she craved. She should probably feel bad about pressuring him into doing something he wasn’t prepared to do, but she just felt bitter toward a woman who no longer existed except in Kellen’s heart.

“I got caught up in the moment,” she said, which wasn’t a lie. “I didn’t intend to rub up against you. It was involuntary.”

He was quiet for a long moment. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Probably deciding if he should locate his clothes before he fled the house or brave the storm wearing only her boxers. She pushed away from the piano and turned to look at the space where he stood in the darkness.

He sighed. “You’re right. That was my fault.”

Kellen lifted a hand and cupped her jaw in one hand. He traced her lips with his thumb. She could smell her sex on him. Dear lord.

“I’ll make you come harder next time,” he said. “You weren’t quite finished when I pulled away.”

She hadn’t been? News to her. She was just relieved that he seemed to want to continue. Because she definitely wanted to continue, even if he wasn’t willing to give her the deep penetration she craved. Maybe with time and patience he’d be able to make love to her. She was sure he’d be worth the wait.

She turned her face to inhale their commingled scents. “When do you get to finish?”

“I’ll finish myself when I need to.”

She imagined him touching himself, wishing he’d allow her to touch him there.

“Can I watch at least?”

“In the dark?”

“You could light the candles again,” she said.

“I’ll light them after I finish tying you,” he said. “I’m going to want to see how beautiful you look.” His fingertips slid lightly from her jaw, down her throat, stopping just shy of her breast. “And when I come on your skin, I’ll want to see that too.”

And she definitely wanted to see that. The sooner the better.

She hopped up on the closed lid of the piano and planted her feet on the keyboard to give herself a boost backward. Even though she should have been expecting the discordant sound, she jumped at the loud pang of the keys.

She heard the rope scrape across the floor as he bent to retrieve it. The storm had finally abated, and the silence in the house was unsettling. Or maybe she was just more sensitive to sound than usual.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said.

“You didn’t.”

“I can’t tell you how hard it was for me to step back instead of pulling your panties aside and burying myself deep inside you.”

She crossed her legs and wriggled her hips uncomfortably. What would he feel like inside her? Did he make love to a woman gently or fuck her unconscious? Sad that she might never find out. “Kellen, don’t say things like that unless you mean to back them up with action. You aren’t the only one fighting for control here.”

His hands slid up the outside of her thighs. “Open your legs.”

Her legs uncrossed and popped open as if they had minds of their own. He stepped forward to stand between her thighs. She knew he was close, though the only part of him touching her was his hands. He caressed her hips and then her back. When his chest brushed the hardened points of her nipples, she gasped.

He immediately retreated slightly, and she forced herself not to crush her breasts into his chest. His terms. This had to be on his terms. He’d better make it worth her while.

“Lie back,” he whispered close to her ear. “I want to get to know your body.”

She obeyed. The cool piano lid was hard against her back and buttocks, but that mild discomfort was soon forgotten.

Dawn sighed as his hands slid slowly over her skin, bumping over curves, valleys, crests and depressions. No one had ever paid so much attention to her form. She thought it might make her feel self-conscious to be so thoroughly inspected from head to toe, but his attention made her feel beautiful. Appreciated. Cherished.

"I thought I'd have to remind you to relax," Kellen said, his deep voice drawing a shudder of delight from her.

"Did you assume that I was always uptight?" she teased.

His hands slid up her calves and gently kneaded her muscles until they were like warm butter. Her thighs fell open in complete surrender. The only part of her that felt any tension was the emptiness between her thighs. Her pussy clenched against the building ache and even though he'd already warned her that this wouldn't proceed to him making love to her, she wanted it to.

Kellen massaged her ankles and the insteps of both feet. "You're not always uptight?"

"Most of the time, I am," she admitted, "but something about you allows me to let go of my inhibitions."

“That’s exactly what you need to do to fully enjoy this. Let go.”

Letting go was surprisingly easy to do with Kellen in control.

“I’ll try,” she said.

"This will be a bit different for me, doing this all by feel," he said. "I'll be careful, but if anything is rubbing your skin raw or pinching you, you have to promise to tell me where. Usually, I can see any hang-ups in my design, but I'm going in blind here."

Her heart thudded faster as she strained to hear the sounds of the rope running through his hands. When the first loop wrapped around her ankle, she tensed. He tightened it so that she could feel the soft cotton against her skin, but it didn't cut into her flesh.

"Dawn?" he said. "Are you sure you don't want to be naked? Once I get started there will be no way to remove your bra and panties."

But her panties were the only thing keeping her fluids from dripping onto the lid of the piano beneath her.

"Is it better with them off?"

"Do you want release or just pleasure?"

Yes! "Can I have both?"

"I'd like to involve every inch of your body in this." His hand slid up the inside of her thigh, and she nearly shot up off the piano. "I think you'd appreciate a series of knots between your thighs, rubbing against your bare clit, your opening, and your back entrance."

She tried to imagine how she could appreciate knots between her thighs, but came up blank. It sounded downright uncomfortable. "What do you mean, Kellen?"

"I'd rather show you," he said, "but they'll be placed in such a way that minimal squirming should allow you to get off."

It could? What a completely sheltered life she'd been leading.

“If I say yes, will you remove my panties for me?”

He didn’t wait for her to say yes. His fingers slid beneath the elastic at her hips and tugged. He paused so she could lift her bottom and he could pull her panties down over her butt. The piano clanged a protest as her feet pressed into the keys, and he slipped her panties slowly downward. His breath warmed her mound as he breathed deeply.

“You smell amazing,” he whispered, the little gusts of air from his words dancing over her highly sensitized skin.

Her eyes flipped open in surprise when the soft, wet tip of his tongue slipped down between her lips to flick over her clit.

“Mmm,” he murmured.

His tongue traced her inner folds and swirled around her aching opening. Dawn’s back arched off the piano and her hand dove into his hair—so long and silky and still damp from the rain. God yes, kiss me there. She forced his face closer, her legs wrapping around his back to urge him closer still.

He pulled away, almost dragging her off the slick surface of the piano as he untangled himself from her limbs.

“I need to hurry up and tie you so I can feast on that pussy for hours.”

“Why wait? I wasn’t stopping you.” Encouraging him. That’s what she’d been doing.

“It’s too easy for me to lose control of myself when you’re free.”

“If you don’t like me pulling at your hair and digging my feet into your back, I can stop.”

“That’s not the problem,” he said.

“Then why did you move away?”

“Because I do like it. I like it too much. It makes me want to do more than lick this.”

His fingers slid down her seam and slipped inside her.

“It makes me want to fuck it.”

It clenched around his fingers eagerly. Yes.

“I think I’ve changed my mind about being tied,” she said. If it was that easy to make him lose control, then she’d encourage the hell out of him.

“Then I’ll have to leave.”

Damn. That didn’t work. He really was in control here. But she trusted that he would give her what she needed and more. She was still worried that he wouldn’t get what he needed from the experience. Making love should be about give and take, not take and take and take, but if he was willing to give her that much, she supposed she shouldn’t complain.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said. “I want you to feast on that pussy for hours.”

He emitted a nervous laugh.

“I’d like you to fuck it too, but if you’re not willing to go that far, I’ll try to make do.”

She could hear him taking deep calming breaths through his nose and wondered if she should push him farther. She felt he was at a tipping point and that a little shove would send him falling in her direction. Or might send him away from her forever.

After a moment, he removed the rope from her ankle, pulled her panties free, and slipped the noose around her ankle again, drawing it tight. His hands slid up her leg—altering its angle slightly so that her back and butt were in a more comfortable position on the surface of the piano and her knee in a natural bend. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of the rope being run up the side of her calf, around the top of her knee and down the other side. The rope pressed into the sole of her foot, and her toes curled under. Why did that feel so good? She sighed in bliss. He leaned away slightly, working the rope—she could hear the fibers scraping against each other. A knot pressed into her instep. She sighed again. If she wriggled her toes slightly, that knot rubbed at a spot on the bottom of her foot that made her nipples pebble with excitement. She had no idea if he’d intentionally put the knot in exactly the right spot, but she was grateful for the stimulation. She’d expected him to tie her spreadeagle to the piano legs, but apparently there was more to this Shibari stuff than simply rendering her helpless.

His secured the rope at her ankle and then ran his hands up the length of her body. He cupped both breasts through her bra, his thumbs tracing the hardened tips.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

“Take it off.” She wanted to feel the pads of his thumbs against her bare nipples.

“Is it pinching you somewhere?” he asked and shifted his hands to her bound leg, carefully running his fingers over the rope and knots he’d fashioned.

“No. I didn’t mean the rope. I meant my bra.”

“Oh.” He chuckled and a pulse of pleasure converged between her thighs. So now even his laugh turned her on? She was a goner.

“Let me bind your other leg first,” he said, “then I’ll have you sit up.”

He left the free end of the rope dangle from her ankle and picked up another piece of rope to bind her other leg. She had some experience with his motions now, so instead of concentrating on where he was putting the rope and tying it and knotting it, she allowed herself to feel how it affected her body. She most enjoyed the knots between her soles and the piano keys where her feet rested, but the tightness of the ropes on her thighs directed her attention to the open and exposed flesh between them. She hoped he’d do something about that soon; she couldn’t close her legs and squirm as she’d been doing since she’d sat beside him at the breakfast bar and then on the piano bench. Even though he’d taken the edge off with that sweet orgasm earlier, she was hopelessly excited again.

When he had her legs secured the way he wanted them, he ran his hands over the ropes as if checking for flaws in his design. “Does that feel okay?” he asked.

“Feels great,” she murmured.

His lips pressed gently against the inside of her thigh. “Your scent is driving me wild. Will you be able to keep your hands to yourself if I steal a small taste?”

“Yes.” She was lying. Even before his tongue slid sensually over her inner folds, her hands were reaching for his thick, glorious hair.

He moved away before she could latch onto his scalp. He slid a hand between her lower back and the piano and eased her into a sitting position.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, her pussy still quivering from the brief feel of his tongue against her flesh.

“I know if I really get into it, I won’t be able to quit.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Do you trust me to make it good for you?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me do my thing. You still haven’t given up control yet.”

She was letting him tie her up on top of a piano. Just how much control did he expect her to relinquish?

He took the dangling rope ends from either knee and wrapped them around her waist, crossed them behind her back. When he pulled the ropes taut, the action pulled her thighs wide open.

“Ow.” She protested the pull on her muscles. She was stretched to her limit.

“Relax,” he said.

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t sitting on the edge of a hard surface with his legs spread wide in a split.

After a moment, her muscles adjusted and she sighed in relief. Forced yoga. That’s what she felt like she was doing. He tugged the ropes another inch, opening her wider still and then tied the two ropes together just under her navel to hold her in that position.

“I don’t stretch that far,” she protested.

“Yes, you do.”

He slid two fingers over her mound, against her clit and to the exposed, dripping-wet opening farther down. “I was going to put knots between your thighs so you could get your pleasure from the rope.” He massaged her entrance with two fingertips, and she tried to close her legs against the invasion, but her bonds prevented it. “I changed my mind,” he said.

“You’re going to leave me all worked up like this?” She would surely die if he did.

“No, I’m going to give you all the pleasure you can handle. A couple of ropes don’t deserve that privilege.”

She wished she could see his expression. Because it was dark, she felt comfortable in being so exposed, but she also felt she was missing out on all the cues he could be giving her.

He shifted and his chest brushed her breasts as he reached behind her to unfasten her bra. Soon her arms would be rendered as helpless as her legs, so she took the opportunity to embrace him. He stiffened but when she did nothing but hold him in her arms, he eventually began to relax. His arms tightened around her, and he just held her like that. His heart thudded hard in his chest, thumping in a rapid staccato against hers. His mouth moved against her hair.

“I shouldn’t,” he said, hugging her closer.

Her hands slid up his back, and she tilted her head, seeking his kiss. His breath warmed her lips. She parted them, her eyes closed, her body completely in tune with his.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

He released her so abruptly, she almost tumbled from the piano. Her arms shot behind her to help her regain her center of gravity.

He immediately grabbed her to keep her from falling. “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t expect you to trust me with your safety if I put you in harm’s way like that.”

“Fine,” she said, glad it was dark so he couldn’t see how watery her stupid eyes had become. “You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to.”

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” he said. He found her face in the darkness and cupped it between his hands. “I haven’t been alone with a woman since Sara. I didn’t realize how much I needed Owen with me as a spotter.”

The ache in Dawn’s chest lifted, and she laughed. “A spotter? You’re not bench-pressing me, Kellen,” she said. “Just touching me.”

“But there are things a woman expects that I won’t deliver. Kissing, for example. Owen handled that part.”

“I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s not fair to you. I can’t expect you to abide by my weird little rules.”

“Maybe you should tell me what those rules are, so I’m less likely to break them. I’m trying to understand you, Kellen.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

“Fuck.”

She stiffened, and her temper flared to life. “Sorry you find my affection so revolting.”

“I don’t. I find it wonderful. And tempting. And scary as hell. I like you too. More than anyone before Sara,” he said. “Or since.”

So she was in second place after a dead girl? She supposed it was a start. What would it take to climb to the top? She needed to be first. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not this week or this month. But someday. Someday she wanted to be Kellen’s number one. She just needed to not mess this up before then. Unfortunately, her mouth often spontaneously said things she regretted.

“Do you think Sara would want you to give up love for the rest of your life?”

“Now that she’s gone, I’m sure she wouldn’t care if I got a dog,” he said, “but she was incredibly jealous. She wanted me all to herself. She forced me to promise her all sorts of things and I did. And I meant every last one of those promises.”

“But shouldn’t they have ended when she died?”

“No,” he said. “They should end when I stop loving her.”

Which would be never.

“Now I’m going to have to remind you to relax,” he said.

“Relax?” she sputtered. “How am I supposed to relax?”

He lifted the heavy mass of her hair from one shoulder and gently caressed the bare skin he exposed. “First, you should stop trying to compete with Sara. You’re not her.”

“I’m well aware of that. I’m sure she didn’t have to make sense of your rules and worry that she was going to ask you to do something taboo like kiss.”

“No, I had no rules for her. But she had plenty for me. Rule one: no biting,” he said.

His teeth nipped Dawn’s earlobe. She shuddered and gasped as pleasure licked down the side of her neck. His nose brushed her throat, and she felt the warm moisture of his breath against her skin just before he nipped the side of her neck, her collarbone, her ribcage, belly, mound.

“Another rule: don’t put your mouth there, Kellen.” His tone was as feminine as his deep voice could produce. “It feels weird.”

God, it didn’t feel weird to Dawn. It felt great. He might not have been willing to kiss Dawn on the mouth, but he did one hell of a job kissing her lips.

“I only want to come when you’re inside me, Kellen,” he repeated more of Sara’s words. “Looking in my eyes. Promise you’ll never come inside anyone but me, Kellen. Promise.”

Wow, that woman had his head all sorts of messed up. Dawn supposed most men would have made those kinds of promises to make their woman happy, but doubted they would have taken them to heart the way that Kellen so obviously had.

“Kellen,” Dawn said. “You don’t have to promise me anything. I don’t want you to.”

His only response was to suck her clit into his mouth and stroke it rapidly with his tongue until she exploded with ecstasy against his face. She clung to his hair, rocking her hips involuntarily as she moaned in bliss. After a moment, he dislodged her fingers from his scalp and reached for the rope again. He didn’t speak as he worked, first crisscrossing the rope across her torso and back, around her breasts and over her shoulders. He climbed to sit behind her as he bound her arms together behind her back, starting at the tops and working his way toward her wrists.

Kellen tied knot after knot, as if building an intricate rope ladder between her arms. He spent so much time on each knot that it seemed to take forever. She wished she could see what he was doing back there. What did it look like? She’d never been more conscious of her skin. Her breasts, pussy, and above her neck were the only parts of her body that were not in some way associated with lengths of rope or knots, so she became fixated on those parts, wanting stimulation for those areas too.

“I wish I had more rope,” he said when he moved away at last. “I’d really like to showcase your talented hands.” His teeth sank into a bare spot on the back of her shoulder, and her spine arched involuntarily. She found her movement severely limited by the ropes binding her. “Yet I suppose they’re beautiful enough on their own.”

She felt unbalanced when he slid to the floor and left her teetering, sitting on the edge of the piano lid, her feet and legs bound, but resting on the keys, and her arms tied securely behind her. She leaned back on her hands and felt slightly more balanced. It didn’t help that the darkness was so disorienting.

She heard the strike of the lighter just before a flame broke the darkness as Kellen lit the candles she’d brought from the kitchen. He carried the candles to the far end of the piano, increasing the amount of light near her. He stared at her in the soft yellow glow until her face burned with embarrassment.

“Don’t look at me so intensely,” she said and squeezed her eyes shut.

“I can’t help it. You look just as beautiful as you feel.”

She peeked at him from beneath her lashes as he circled the piano, sometimes touching her skin as if to ensure himself that she was real and other times gazing at her for long patches of time as if she were fine art on display.

“I wish you could see the pattern down your arms,” he said. “I’m not sure how I managed to space the knots so evenly.”

Probably because he’d taken such meticulous care that she’d thought he’d never finish. There wasn’t an inch of play in her arms. She tried to pull them away from her sides and found she was breathing hard for no good reason.

“Easy, baby,” he whispered.

Kellen’s hands were suddenly everywhere, gently caressing her skin until the ropes felt as if they were part of her.

She looked down at her naked body. The candlelight gave a soft glow to her skin. She couldn’t believe how exposed she was. Her legs were wide open. She could feel that they were, but seeing them like that was quite a shock. So that’s what her pussy looked like. She’d seen glimpses of it while grooming, but she’d never stared at it before. Was he staring at it too? She was too timid to find out. She forced her attention to less erotic visions, but discovered that he’d transformed every inch of her body into something visually appealing. Erotic.

Kellen had used the blue rope on her right leg and the tan on her left. The knots were not only used to hold her limbs in a certain orientation, but to decorate. At her waist, the two ropes came together. She wasn’t sure how he’d manage to combine the two colors into a contrasting design of diamonds and small rings when he couldn’t see what he was doing, but it was beautiful. The way the ropes supported her breasts made them jut forward, proud and bare. It was as if he’d showcased them with his rope work, drawing attention to the light pink tips. She turned her head to try to see the work he’d done on her arms, but those knots were out of her field of view. She’d never felt more sexy in her life. Or more trapped.

Her hands were free, so she repeatedly clenched them, and her toes were capable of curling under, but that only managed to remind her of the knot in the instep of her foot which kept her nipples hard for some inexplicable reason.

“You’re shaking,” he said, moving to stand before her. “Don’t fight it.”

“I’m not,” she said breathlessly. She looked at him, strangely not embarrassed that he had an unfettered view of every private part of her body. She felt separate from herself. Like an observer of her own form.

“Not physically fighting it. Mentally.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you feel?”

“Trapped.”

“Are you sure?” He held her gaze, his dark brown eyes intense and deep.

She couldn’t look away. “Actually, it’s more like someone else is trapped and I’m watching her with envy.”

“Are you allowing yourself to feel the ropes, Dawn?”

“I don’t know.” She honestly wasn’t sure what she feeling. She was new to this. What was she supposed to be doing? What was she missing? She tried thinking about the ropes pressed into her flesh, forcing her into a position she would never be able to hold on her own. Keeping her there. Holding her completely stationary. Can’t move. Can’t move. Suddenly, it was as if a fist reached into her chest, squeezed her heart, and robbed her lungs of air.

Kellen stepped between her thighs and held her gently so that her forehead was resting against his shoulder. His hands felt so soothing against her shoulders that she practically melted. “Don’t panic,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m not sure I like this.”

“Do you want me to release you?”

He’d worked so hard to tie her this way, and she felt a million times better now that he was near. “Not yet. Just hold me a while longer.”

“I probably should have tied you on your bed your first time. You would have felt more secure. More stable. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you’d look on the surface of your piano.”

“I feel secure as long as you’re close,” she whispered. She angled her face and kissed his neck. He tensed slightly, but didn’t move away. She prayed that this wasn’t one of those triggers that sent him fleeing, because once she started, rubbing her lips against his throat, nibbling, licking, sucking and kissing, she couldn’t stop. If her hands had been free, she’d be plunging them down his boxer shorts right about now. God, she wanted his cock in her hands, her mouth, her wide open pussy. She was suddenly thankful that he’d tied her, so she wouldn’t attack him.

His ragged breathing stirred her hair. His hands went from holding her shoulders to provide comfort to massaging her breasts to provoke excitement. He kneaded them gently in his palms while she desperately sucked on his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone, wishing she could reach more of his flesh. She wanted so much more of him. When he began to rub her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, desire ignited deep inside her. She moaned in torment.

“Find your balance,” he said gently.

She had no idea what he meant until he started to slide down her body and she teetered forward. She leaned back slightly, catching herself on her hands.

Kneeling on the floor between her wide open thighs, Kellen looked up at her as he tied his hair back with a leather strap he’d tugged from beneath the cuff on his right wrist. There was no hesitation at all as he shifted forward and plunged his tongue into her quivering hole. He traced her opening repeatedly, drawing her fluids into his mouth with each swipe. She could see it. She could see everything. When he’d collected most of what she’d had waiting for him, he nibbled his way up one swollen lip and then latched onto her clit with a tight suction. His tongue worked the swollen bud as he sucked and sucked, drawing her higher, higher.

“Oh God,” she cried.

Two long, thick fingers slid deep into her clenching pussy. A third pressed against her ass, but didn’t enter. Her hips bucked involuntarily as she exploded in bliss. As soon as the pleasure began to recede, Kellen began to thrust his fingers and rotate them in wide arcs inside her. She moaned for mercy as he kept her pleasure heightened far longer than she’d even known was possible. When her legs began to tremble from overstimulation, he slipped his fingers free and released her clit so he could slide his fingers into his mouth.

She watched him suck her fluids from his fingers with her mouth hanging open. She’d thought the sight of him between her thighs had been sexy, but that… that made her pussy quake with the tease of another orgasm.

He pulled his fingers free, took a deep breath, and said, “So fucking good,” before he leaned forward and licked desperately at her juices.

He rubbed her clit with two fingers while he sucked at her pussy.

“Give me more, baby,” he pleaded.

When she came a moment later, he moaned with satisfaction at the flood of fluids that met his probing tongue.

Fuck, he was good at this.

He stood abruptly, drawing a gasp of surprise from Dawn. He freed his massive cock from his shorts and began to stroke his length in rapid, hard tugs. She couldn’t decide where to look. At his eyes squeezed shut in bliss? His mouth hanging open as he gasped for air? His heaving chest? Taut abs? His hand tugging his length in rapid, sure strokes? Oh God! Dawn’s pussy clenched in time with his motion. She could almost feel him inside her as he pleasured himself between her thighs. She strained toward him. Fill me. Fill me. Fill me, she thought. He cried out as he erupted. His fluids spurted from his body onto her belly and one breast. A second shot splattered across her thigh. His hand went still.

He leaned against her, his forehead against her shoulder, his shaky breaths warming her chest. She wished her arms were free so she could hold him tight. She nuzzled her face against his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled his body against hers—chest to breasts, belly to belly, cock to seam. She didn’t move, afraid he’d pull away. His hips began to grind, rubbing the length of his still hard cock against her opening. He moaned as if in agony and his cockhead slipped inside her. Yes, she thought. Please. But she stayed silent, her eyes squeezed shut in preparation for his rejection.

He shifted his hips downward, but instead of pulling away, he pressed up inside her, claiming another inch. She clung to the piano beneath her hands. God, how she wanted to hold him as he slowly entered her in a deepening pattern of retreat and conquer. Her body adjusted to his thickness, stretching to accommodate his girth. When his balls pressed against her and she knew she had all of him, a tear dripped from beneath her eyelid and streaked down her cheek.

He buried his hands in her hair and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Dawn?” he whispered brokenly. “What did I just do?”

She wanted to speak, to soothe him, to say it’s okay, Kellen, it’s okay, but emotion clogged her throat and she couldn’t find the words.

He jerked abruptly away, pulling free of her body, away from her, and she couldn’t cling to him, couldn’t stop him from fleeing into the bathroom and slamming the door. And she couldn’t stop the tears flowing down her cheeks unchecked.