After gathering her senses, she realized his tone held a wealth of satisfaction. Almost too much. Well.
She kissed his hand and nipped his finger. “You need to remember, though, Doms who are in exclusive, possessive relationships don’t get to play with other submissives.”
“Is that right?”
“It’s true. Not if they want to keep their essential equipment.”
His shout of laughter made people look their way. “Considering I have a fondness for my manly parts, I’ll behave myself.” He set his hands on her hips. “However, maybe I need something visible to deter all those predatory submissives.”
She tipped her head to one side. “Visible?”
“Mmmhmm.” He took the rope from her hand, slung it over his shoulder, and stepped close enough that her breasts brushed his chest. An iron-hard arm around her waist pulled her against him until her softness rubbed against a very hard erection. “A nice fat wedding band should do the trick.”
Wedding band. Even the stars in the sky seemed to be dancing along the treetops. Her lips curved up and she managed to answer, “I’ll find the biggest one available,” before he kissed her so thoroughly that wedding vows were superfluous.
* * * *
His little magnolia could steal a man’s heart without even trying.
But damn, when she’d handed him the ropes he preferred for suspension, he’d been overwhelmed by her courage. He clearly remembered how she’d reacted the first time she’d imagined being suspended in rope. “No. No way. Never.”
And then she’d experienced a prison breakout. Kidnapping. Violence.
Now under a massive black oak, she calmly knelt, stripped of all clothing. Patiently accepting of whatever he planned to do.
She humbled him.
Quietly, Atticus walked around her, finishing his preparations. To provide extra light while he worked, he turned up the LED camping lanterns hung around the scene area. The huge branch with a suspended hard point had been tested earlier. Ropes and gear were ready, rescue hook on his belt in case restraints needed to be cut.
He began, enjoying her shiver as the scratchy rope trailed over her smooth skin and the way her face flushed as he wrapped her breasts. Her body turned boneless as he moved her, as he wanted her.
Slowly, he bound her in his ropes. And with every touch, every knot, every kiss, Atticus showed her how much her submission meant to him.
For this first suspension, he’d do nothing fancy, instead he duplicated the pose of a woman leaning back in a swing. Ass lowest, torso angled up, legs temporary stretched outward.
Knot by knot, he took away her freedom, her power, her will…and then he lifted her into the air, putting her completely under his control.
When the ground dropped away, her eyes went as wide as a panicking mare’s. Panting, she struggled against the bindings, even though she was only a few inches in the air.
He’d expected this.
“Easy, baby.” Taking a knee, he gripped her shoulder and curled his right arm behind her, giving her the illusion of support. “Eyes on me, Virginia. Right here.” As he would with a greenie Marine in a first firefight, he sharpened his command enough to slice through her spiraling fear.
Her gaze jerked up to meet his, her breathing still too fast.
“Good. Very good.” He lowered his voice to the croon he used with horses—and frightened subbies. “Exactly what are you afraid of, sweetheart? Tell me.”
“What am I—” With a click, her mind engaged. She frowned.
“Do you think I’d hurt you?”
“Of course not.”
With his hand against her cheek, he nipped at her lips to tease her with what was to come. “Do you think I’d let you fall?”
She swallowed. “Well. No.”
But her body’s instincts told her she might. He understood that part. What about the other—her deeper fear. “Do you think I’d leave you?”
“No. You wouldn’t do that.”
She hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t had to think. His hobbled heart felt as if it had broken free and into a gliding canter. He was in. Finally. “There’s my girl.”
The way her eyes softened with his approval, his possession, made his arm tighten around her. Fuck, he loved her. And he’d tell her again and again.
But for now…time to fly.
The rope harness he’d created for her torso held some of her weight with the delightful side effect of squeezing her breasts. Her arms were restrained behind her back, forearm to forearm. Webbed rope made a sling for her ass and supported the majority of her weight.
Quietly, he walked around the area and dimmed the lights. The light from the fire pit danced across her skin. The night was cooling. The trilling who-who-who of a screech owl joined the sounds of sighing trees and the nearby gurgling creek.
After raising her to groin height, he spread and secured her knees up and apart—opening her for his use. He braided her hair and used a strand of rope to tie it to a vertical line. Her head would be supported—and she’d be unable to see anything except the night sky over the forest canopy.
Suspension was a slow business, sublimely sensuous, and requiring every iota of attention from the Dom. His entire world was tuned to the slow slide of a rope, the feeling of bare skin, of compression and pressure, of the beauty of harsh strands against delicate skin.
“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice came out hoarse as he finished the last knot.
Her eyes had widened with the first ropes, her body had stilled as he removed her ability to move, and after her initial panic, when he’d lifted her into the air to gently rock above the earth, he’d seen her mind plunge down into the pool called subspace. Even as her body floated, so did her soul.
It was a heady rush to know she trusted him with all of her, body, mind, and soul.
As he circled her to assess her circulation and sensation, he noticed Jake nearby, watching quietly. Even the wilderness had dungeon monitors. Jake gave him a chin lift in acknowledgment before sauntering to the next scene.
Atticus dismissed him from his mind and stepped back to examine his work and his submissive.
Eyes closed, breathing slow and deep, muscles completely relaxed. Someone liked being in ropes.
Smiling, he moved between her raised legs. Yes, the perfect height. He leaned forward. His jeans rubbed against her vulnerable, bare pussy as he ran his palms over her rope-squeezed breasts.
Her eyes popped open, making him grin. “Wh-what are you doing?” Her words came out thick and slow—yep, she’d been pretty deep and wasn’t out of la-la-land entirely. Which didn’t bother him one bit.
“Playing with the petals on my little magnolia flower.” He ran a finger between her drenched folds. Definitely ready for him.
Her whole body quivered.
Her breasts were compressed between the ropes, swollen to a pleasing plumpness. Undoubtedly more sensitive. Testing, he rolled one satiny nipple between his fingers.
She gasped, and her back arched.
Oh yeah.
He’d warned her once what he’d do if he ever had her in suspension. Time to make good his promise.
Unhurriedly, he laved her nipples with his tongue, nibbling and sucking until the peaks were a carnal dark red. When he straightened, the suspension rocked back and forth, but he saw her fear had disappeared.
“Want more?” he asked in a low voice. He moved beside her shoulder so he could taste her mouth. As he traced his tongue over her lips, she sighed.
He nipped lightly, teasing her, before soothing the sting with his tongue.
When he straightened, she tried to lift her head—and couldn’t. Her whine was satisfying. She wanted his mouth, but he would give her only what he wanted her to have. What she asked for.
“What, sweetling?”
“More. More, please, Sir.”
He pleased them both with long, wet drugging kisses, feeling her submission in the softness of her lips, the willingness to be plunde
red. Would she surrender everything?
Gin blinked her eyes into focus as Atticus moved away, disappearing from her sight. She tried to watch, but the binding in her hair kept her head from rising.
His palm stroked over her stomach. Down her leg. He always had a hand on her, as if to reassure her that even when she couldn’t see him, he was close.
Something moved between her parted legs—a brush of coarse material. His hands closed on her thighs, making her jump with the unexpectedly hard grip.
She stared up into the dark night sky where the waning moon had barely risen over the trees. From the stone pit came the sound of the crackling fire. The flickering yellow light danced over the black tree trunks.
As she rocked in the suspension, the massive branch overhead creaked. The gentle swaying was mesmerizing; the snugness of the ropes over her body comforted and somehow…somehow loosened her grasp on reality. Her mind kept floating away, like a balloon gliding up into the tree canopy.
A zipper rasped, and she felt Atticus’s erection slide through her wetness. His fingers made circles around her clit, and as if he were the pied piper of sex, every drop of her blood streamed downward to her pussy.
“Please, Sir.” Her plea was mostly a moan. “I want you in me. Please.”
The tree branch groaned as he leaned over her, steadying himself with a hand on the ropes.
As his chest rubbed her sensitized nipples, she sucked in a breath. “Please.”
His dark eyes were controlled, his jaw determined. “When I’m ready, sweetling.”
With his free hand, he traced a finger over her cheek. “You are so beautiful.”
The look in his eyes was…was one she’d seen before. One she’d been too scared to recognize.
Today, the knowledge he loved her sent her heart soaring.
Reaching down, Atticus adjusted himself. His cock separated her tissues, entered her, thick and hard and slow, as if he exulted in each micro-inch, each stretch and wakening nerve inside her.
Far more intimate was the way his eyes never left her moonlit face as he pressed deeper.
Exquisite torture. She tried to move…couldn’t. He slid in another inch, and her eyes closed. Ooooh.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he said softly. Firmly.
She forced her heavy lids up, and the keenness of his gaze made her shiver. Made him smile. “Atticus,” she whispered, without any reason other than to say his name.
“Shhh.”
As he advanced, with excruciating slowness, she panted. Her insides throbbed around his thickness.
And then he was fully in, his coarse pubic hair against her bare pussy, his balls swinging lightly against her buttocks. He gripped her chin—one more restraint, one more symbol of her nakedness before him.
“You’re mine, Virginia.” His voice was low. Rough. “And you agreed. But I let you evade a step. That time is over.” He brushed his lips over hers, never losing her gaze. “I love you, Gin.”
He waited a breath, and she swallowed, trying to get the words out.
“Tell me.” How could such a quiet voice hold the iron edge of command? “Say it.”
His cock slid out, taking her mind away, slid in. Circled and penetrated deeper.
Owned. She was owned. Taken. Held firmly by his ropes and his arms and his will. Another fragment of her defenses slipped away, a wisp of cloud drifting up into the sky.
Mercilessly, his shaft filled her, emptied her, filled her. Her swollen breasts were flattened against his chest, her arms bound and helpless. His gaze never left her face, reading every emotion.
“I—”
“Say the words, Virginia.” His kiss was deeper this time, taking her mouth as he had her body.
When he lifted his head, her words poured out, simple and easy. “I love you.”
His dimple appeared. Disappeared. His shaft withdrew, drove in harder, wakening need in every nerve. A tremor ran through her.
“Again. Tell me again,” he murmured. His hand controlled her face. His ropes, her body. His eyes, her mind. The hot glide of his cock plunging in, pulling out, was the most intimate of caresses.
“I love you, Atticus.” The dam was broken; her emotions were unleashed, filling the dry recesses of her soul. “I love you so much.”
“Thank fuck,” he muttered, surprising a giggle from her.
His grin broke forth. He released her face, straightened, and grasped her hips. “I’m going to take you now, baby.” He leaned over her just far enough so she could see his face. The crinkles creased at the corners of his eyes. “I’d say hang on, but—too bad, there’s not a thing you can do.”
The statement of exactly what her instincts knew—that she was completely immobilized and under his control—sent a quaking through her so hard it shook her body.
He paused, openly enjoying her response. And then he took her, hammering in and out, using the swinging of the suspension to yank her against him.
Her body constricted around him. Each sense wakened to the ropes binding her breasts, the warmth of his hands on her hips, the wet noises, the slap of flesh, and beyond everything, the steely blue of his unyielding gaze.
Like a mountain avalanche, her climax was approaching…and unstoppable. Her muscles tensed, her legs trembled. The rhythm caught her, drove her upward, hung for a beat, another.
He pulled out slower, plunged in, out, keeping her there…there…there.
And then the pulsing started in her recesses as exquisite pleasure burst through, pouring outward along every river of her body. Held helpless in the ropes, her body shook and quivered, unable to halt anything, to do anything except drown in the pleasure.
“That’s my Gin,” he said softly. And then he pressed deep inside her. His fingers gripped her waist painfully as his eyes went blank, and he took his own release.
His groan of satisfaction had to be the finest sound in the world.
He lowered himself and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, magnolia. And just so you know, I might remove the ropes, but I’m never going to let you go.”
She pressed a kiss to his mouth and whispered, “Good.” For she knew to her very core that not even the tightest bondage could prevent her heart from soaring up and into his keeping.
~ The End ~
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