Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
He understood why she liked being in the ropes now. Not only why she liked it, but why she needed it. The ropes were tight enough that they felt good on her raw nerve endings. When she became sexually aroused, the bonds helped to keep the terrible burning from turning to pain. He wished she’d been able to articulate to him that she needed rough for a reason.
He took his coffee outside and leaned on the railing. He was never going to be able to come onto their front porch again and look at those two end alcoves without thinking of the wild sex they’d shared. He was already thinking about their indoor garden and how he wanted her to incorporate places for their leopards, but also various heavy beams for suspension. He pulled inspiration from everywhere for his erotic tying. The more he had been around Flambé, watching her with her love of plants, the more he’d studied plants so he could share that interest with her.
Because he loved the practice of tying, he recognized the rope—hemp—used for tying plants. Already, he bought hemp as a rule, and then prepared his own rope, boiling it and preparing it properly himself. He dyed the rope the colors he wanted and then stored the various ropes for use at the club. Now they were stored at the house for one person only. Immediately he had begun to see so many beautiful visuals in the plants and artistic ties with Flambé. He would be able to incorporate those ties with her in the indoor garden the two of them visualized together.
He wanted a state-of-the-art garden so it would it be easy to care for. He didn’t want to have to employ gardeners to take care of something that he wanted private for the two of them. He frowned, thinking about that. Perhaps they should consider making their garden smaller. If they did, it would be less space for their leopards, and fewer ways they could escape if trouble came for them. He would have to talk to Flambé about it, get her opinion. He honestly didn’t give a damn what others thought about his love for rope art, but he knew she was more reluctant to have it known that she craved to be tied.
Sevastyan was back inside the kitchen pouring himself a second cup of coffee when Flambé came down the stairs. She was naked, as he had requested, her hair damp from the shower and pulled back from her head with a cloth band. She had marks on her body, not rope marks, but his personal marks of possession, ones he’d never put on her before, and he found he liked them there.
He went to her, cupped one side of her face to lean down and take her mouth in a gentle kiss. She looked like she needed it. Immediately, she parted her soft lips for him so he could slide his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted of flame and cinnamon. A little bit like nerves. His woman. Off balance when she should have all the confidence in the world. When he lifted his head she chased after him, needing more.
He took her hand and led her into the den. The room was deliberately cooler by a few degrees than the rest of the house. She glanced at the small couch he’d positioned in the corner of the room, the chain and large ring above it. Her gaze flicked uncertainly to his face. He wore no expression as he walked over to the table where he’d set up his equipment.
Flambé stretched. A good sign. She wanted to be ready for a long session with him. She might be sore from the long night and day of sex, fear and wild leopard shifting, but she was ready to be wrapped in the comforting embrace of the ropes. He loved her more and more for that.
“Are you hungry? You don’t seem to eat breakfast, although it’s nearly two in the afternoon.”
She shook her head. “No, for some reason, when I first get up, I have no appetite. I think, when I was a child, I never ate breakfast, which I know is completely wrong, but that’s how I was programmed. Thank you for yesterday, for helping me with Flamme. I was so afraid she’d be trapped in me forever. You . . . surprised me.”
“You never expect much from me.” He kept his tone strictly neutral. He knew she didn’t.
She started to protest. He could see it on her face, but then she stopped because, truthfully, what could she say? She didn’t expect much of him. She thought he would cheat on her. She thought he was a liar. That he would eventually beat her. Ania had told him the conversation Flambé had shared with her. She’d been very upset to discover Flambé had such a poor opinion of shifters.