Unwound

It hit her like a fist to the stomach that she didn’t know this man at all. She shouted at him to cut her loose, but with the gag blocking her mouth, no sound came out at all.

That’s when she woke up. She blinked at the strobelike effect coming from the TV and had a flash of panic. Where was she?

Then she remembered.

Ronin’s.

She ran a hand through her hair. Jesus. Talk about f**ked up. Amery didn’t buy into a lot of the new-age stuff, yet the dream unsettled her. The symbolism in it touched on too many of her fears about Ronin to merely be nonsensical.

Although she returned to his bedroom to check on him, she couldn’t sleep with him. Not until they talked about everything that’d been hanging in the balance the last few weeks. So she slept on the couch.

• • •

THE next morning Amery crept into Ronin’s bedroom to check on him. Judging by his peaceful expression, it looked like he did rest better in his own bed. Or maybe he’d doubled up on his pain pills. He hadn’t moved from the bed in fourteen hours.

You needed it, baby.

Amery placed a soft kiss on his forehead and tiptoed from the room.

After brewing a pot of coffee, she wandered through the penthouse, unsure what to do with herself. That’s how she found herself in front of the door to his practice room, wondering if he’d used it in the last few weeks. Prior to their split, Ronin had become more aggressive in his efforts to sway her into being his rope model for club demos.

She rested her forehead against the cool wood, her hand on the doorknob, her heart pounding crazily as the vivid memory of the last time she’d been in the practice room surfaced.

“I want to do a suspension binding on you.”

Amery had looked at Ronin with alarm. “Hanging me from hooks and stuff? Like a slab of meat?”

Then he wrapped his long, strong fingers around her throat and lower jaw, guaranteeing her undivided attention. “No. Like a piece of art. Like beauty suspended in time.”

The intensity in his eyes had overwhelmed her to the point she’d felt her knees start to buckle.

“Do not move.”

After she’d found her balance, Ronin had merely said, “You don’t usually wilt at the first sign of heat, baby. Talk to me.”

“I don’t understand the suspension part of kinbaku. Why it appeals to you.”

“Or why it frightens you,” he countered.

Amery stared at him, this man who pushed her limits, this man who seemed to see right into the heart of her and refused to let her hide from herself. “It scares me to think I’ll be dangling from the ceiling naked.”

“I can assure you the riggings are completely safe. But it’s not the riggings that worry you.”

“No. It’s the impersonal aspect of suspension that freaks me out. Maybe it’s stupid to base that fear on the images I’ve seen in your bondage books.”

“Neither how you feel or your fears are ever stupid.” He gentled his hold and stroked his thumb along her jawline. “It’s never impersonal when I bind you. The only way I can allay your fears is to show you. Will you trust me?”

She didn’t respond immediately.

Ronin let her be indecisive. He didn’t push. Or cajole. Or guilt her. He just continued to hold her in place, treating her to that maddeningly erotic stroking motion of his thumb.

Only when she softly said, “Yes,” did his demeanor change.

He devoured her mouth, taking, conquering. He pulled away long enough to say, “Clothes off. Hair down.”

She stripped slowly, needing the power in the moment when she bared herself to him.

As soon as she was naked, he centered his hand on her belly, signaling for her calmness. He murmured, “Beautiful,” and placed a single, soft kiss on her lips. Then he stripped to the waist, laying his gi top over her clothing, another simple sign he’d shelter and protect her.

“Drop to your knees. Arms behind your back.”

It was hard to focus on her breathing and letting the anticipation fill her when she heard a door being opened and closed, followed by a squeaking sound.

Then Ronin knelt behind her and stroked her hair. “I’ve decided against a full tsuri—suspension—today. I will need to blindfold you for the position.”

Heart rate racing, mouth dry, she managed to nod.

Cloth covered her eyes. Ronin clasped her elbows and brought her to her feet. “I’m going to start binding you now.” After planting a tender kiss on her shoulder, he positioned her arms into an elbow clasp behind her. He wound the rope from elbow to elbow, but somehow left her hands free.

A loop circled her neck, and she stiffened up.

“For the chest harness,” he explained. “Your torso will bear the brunt of your weight, but the ropes will do the work.”

Ronin’s explanation calmed her, as did the constant contact of his skin to hers as he turned her body into his canvas. His intensity filled the room. He maneuvered her backward until her butt connected with something solid.

Then her upper arms were squeezed by ropes. As was her midsection. A thick band of rope pressed her lower belly all the way to her pubic bone, splitting into two sections that ran alongside the rise of her mound and became a single rope again, nestled in her butt crack.

“Ronin.”

He was right there, touching her, nuzzling her neck. “I’m here.”

“Are you going to f**k me when I’m suspended?”

His soft breath teased her ear, and she felt his lips curve against her cheek. “Of course. You are too beautiful for me to resist.”