Disgrace (33 page)

“Mr Sinclair, you have a delivery.” I frown at the intercom.

“And you are telling me because?” I am pretty sure Sandy is more than capable of signing a proof of receipt docket.

“Sorry, Mr Sinclair, but you have to sign.” I look out my opened office door and see Sandy peer around the corner and shrug her apology. I push back from my desk and walk over to the courier. The box is heavy but not big. I sign and head back into my office, closing the door tight behind me. I recognise the handwritten label. My cock twitches, like it does every damn time I think of Sam, even after four months together. But then it’s not really been four months. Before our first real date on Christmas Day, it had been a very long eighteen months since our initial hook-up at Daniel’s wedding, but the last four months made that wait worthwhile. Now, I can’t imagine spending a single night apart.

I am so close to asking her to move in with me, but I don’t want to frighten her. Her reticence to tell me she loves me when it’s so fucking obvious, makes me think she is still skittish about the whole relationship thing. As impatient as I am to take the next step, I will wait for her, for a sign or for the words themselves. She’ll let me know when she’s ready.

I slide the letter opener along the tape to slice the package open. A neatly wrapped bundle of rope spills to the floor, along with a card and a retro Polaroid picture. I pick up the rope; it isn’t new. It is well seasoned, oiled, perfectly softened and fit for purpose. Shit, no more twitching, I am fucking rock-hard, my cock tenting my suit trousers uncomfortably. I lean down and pick up the card and photograph.

I groan out. I am going to get no work done for the rest of the day. Not now. The photograph is the fucking sexiest snap shot of my naked girlfriend’s perfect body lying on her bed. One knee is bent and the other is dropped to the side. Oh, shit, she is completely bare. That is new. That is fucking hot. I grab my cock and squeeze to relieve some of the pressure, but I am painfully hard and there is only one way this is going down. I quickly read the card as I fumble in my back pocket for my phone. The card reads
‘Happy Anniversary’- I believe four months is rope!
Damn! I press her speed dial number and she picks up instantly.

“Jason.” She breathes my name and I stifle another groan.

“I am so fucking hard, I won’t be able to leave the office without some assistance,” I growl.

“Oh, you got the parcel,” she squeals. “I was worried as soon as I sent it that it would get lost and someone else would get an eyeful.” She giggles, but I grumble at the thought of anyone but me looking at that picture. Given her threesome fantasy, I happen to believe Sam would be fine with sharing as long as we are together, but at the moment, I honestly can’t think past her being mine to even consider it an option for our playtime.

“I got it.” My voice is deep and hoarse.

“So I thought maybe if you want, we could…well, you could…I thought you might like to try some rope work on me.” Her voice is breathy and flustered. I can imagine her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink.

“I would like that very much, Sam. Do you think you are ready?” I swallow the dryness in my throat. We have come a long way with her submission in these past months, but Shibari can take that to a whole new level. For her to truly enjoy being bound, she will have to let go, give herself completely. I know she trusts me, but the restraints we have used are nothing compared to the restriction of intricate rope and suspension bindings.

“I trust you, Jason.” I hear her swallow and breathe heavily out of her nose. The glow I feel from her words is like a pure surge of energy and fire in my veins.

“You have no idea what that means to me, Sam. I will never let any harm come to you.” My tone is soft and commanding. She needs to believe every word.

“I know, Jason. I want to do this. I’ve seen it done before, and it looks very sexy. I just never could…you know, but with you…I can do anything.” Her voice is a breathy plea.

“Thank you.” Her faith and love blow me away, because if that isn’t love I don’t know what is. The silence is portent but her sudden, light laugh breaks the seriousness.

“Only if you’re up to it. I mean the rumours could be wrong,” she taunts.

“What rumours?”

“Oh, I heard you were the best Shibari Master in the club but maybe—” I growl my interruption.

“Oh, baby girl, I am the best. But let’s not make this a punishment session. I’d much rather your first experience was all about pleasure.”

“Your punishment is always a pleasure,” she purrs.

“If you try and make me jealous, it won’t be.” My tone shifts to stern, and she falls silent and I remain quiet.

“I’m sorry, Jason.” Her voice is soft, and I know she regrets her tease. My jealousy has eased since she hung up her whip, but we are both prone to shades of green colouring our vision from time to time.

“I know beautiful, I know. It’s forgotten.” My tone is gentler to assuage her remorse. “My hard-on from hell, however, is not so easy to forget or ignore.” She lets out a loud laugh that turns into a gargled choke. She must have been drinking because she coughs and splutters nosily for a good few minutes. The hacking sound alone is enough to take the edge off any remaining erotic imagery.

“Sorry…went down the wrong way.” She is still trying to clear her throat. “You need some help?”

“That wasn’t the type of help I was hoping for; nevertheless, the net result is the same.” My dry tone causes her laugh out snort. I shake my head and smile at her hysterical giggling.

“Oh, Jason, I’m sorry…tonight, I’ll make it up to you tonight.” She exhales a deep breath, trying to control herself. I don’t care. I love it when she laughs so freely she can’t control herself. I love it when she falls any which way, tears of laughter or screams of ecstasy. I’ll take whatever I can get as long as I’m the one drawing those emotions from her body.

“Yes, you will.” Her gasp is the last thing I hear when I end the call. A sound barely audible to the human ear. My cock, on the other hand, heard it loud and clear.

I text Sam her instructions for tonight this afternoon. When we play, I still get a nervousness I can’t explain. It’s probably no more complicated than realising how fucking lucky I am to have Sam switch for me. I have to admit it floors me every time I open the playroom door at the club and she is there, exactly as I requested. Any doubt is quickly replaced by a raw passion that surges through every fibre of my being, pure unadulterated desire and love for this amazing woman. We may not have started as slow as she thought she needed, but we have progressed at her speed, and her eagerness to push herself has brought us here. I lock the door behind me, and her head tilts to listen, but she doesn’t raise her head. She is kneeling in the middle of the floor directly under a single spotlight. Her hair is loose and has fallen, covering her face, it almost reaches her waist and is as straight as a die. She is wearing tiny, white boy shorts and a white, fitted crop top as per my instructions but nothing else. Her dark tanned skin glows warmly in the single beam overhead. She radiates a luminescence almost like an angel—my beautiful angel.

I walk over and drop my own ten-foot jute rope on the floor in front of her knees. The heavy weight lands with a dull, loud thud, making her jump. The rope she sent to my office earlier was suitable and fit for purpose, but, this is our first time and I want my softest rope, one I have personally worked to perfection. I stroke her soft hair, and she leans into my touch, her deep steady breathing causing her chest to rise. Her perfect round breasts are barely contained by the Lycra and string straps of her top.

“Stand up, beautiful.” I command. She is very agile and hops to her feet with a little jump and is instantly standing. She flicks her hair from her face. Her eyes sparkle. Dilated pupils replace any colour in her irises and transform her eyes into deep inky wells of wanton desire. She draws her bottom lip into her mouth, something she does when she is holding back. Her lips curl, because if we have learned anything in our short time together, it is that neither of us holds anything back.

“Something you want to say, beautiful?” I tilt her chin, my thumb lightly stroking her skin. I can’t help it. I have to touch her.

“Do you want me naked?” She almost sighs the words and shifts her legs together, not her only display of her obvious arousal. She smells good enough to drown in, an intoxicating aroma better than any ambrosia.

“Oh, Sam, I always want you naked.” I kiss her lightly on her nose and grin. Her reciprocating smile is adorable, bright and innocent, a stark contrast in a room designed for sin. “But no, I think this first time you will be more comfortable like this. Besides, with you naked, I couldn’t promise not to fuck you when you are all tied in knots,” I caution but my tone is playful. There is enough sexual tension in the room as it is.

“Would that be a bad thing?” She giggles.

“Shibari is deeply erotic but doesn’t involve sex.” I explain while holding her gaze, my tone more serious. “It can. I mean, let’s face it, anything can involve sex, but that is not the point of this exercise. The knots and ropes will cross your body like brush strokes on a canvas. They will lie in places, over pressure points and erogenous zones that, if I’m doing it right, should cause you a great amount of pleasure. It’s all about the pleasure, but no sex. Not this time. Understand?” She pushes her bottom lip out in a cute pout and nods. I run my hand down her cheek and hold her gaze. I want her to not only see my own desire but also the truth behind my words. This is extreme bondage, but it is so much more than mere sex. I think in the first instance it’s important to distinguish the two. I want to give her maximum pleasure. “You ready?” She nods again, and I raise my brow.

“Sorry…Yes, Sir.” I flash her a comforting smile, and she takes a deep breath. A tinge of nervousness clouds her eyes, but she shakes it away.

“Good girl.” I quickly remove my shoes, shirt and socks so I only have on loose fitted pants for comfort, although they will do little to hide my massive erection that is just starting to make an angry appearance. We may both experience higher levels of pleasure tonight from this play, but I will also have a severe case of blue balls. I turn her away from me and scrape her hair into my hands, pulling any loose tendrils into one ponytail. I slowly braid it and can’t help smiling when she moans and relaxes back into my chest when I’m done. She loves having her hair stroked, guaranteed to send her to sleep in under two minutes. I don’t want her asleep, though, but relaxed and pliant works, too. I run my hand down the length of the braid. It’s still very long.

“Can you twist that up into a bun? I don’t want it getting tangled.” I give a gentle tug.

“Oh, sure. I definitely don’t want to get scalped.” She snickers and deftly secures a neat bun with the single tie already in her hair.

“No, darling, scalping is next week.” She snorts out a big laugh and is about to turn when a low grumble emits from my chest. She checks herself and quickly stands, awaiting instruction. I pull my hardening cock free from its awkward position in my pants and give my balls a little squeeze, which does nothing to ease my growing ache. It’s going to be a long session.

From behind, I take her both of her hands in mine and help her fold her arms behind her back, crossed and at waist height. I walk around to her front and pick up the rope, taking my time threading the length through my hands into large but manageable loops. I hold her gaze and the only noise is our breathing and the rope moving in my palm. The only smell is the oil on the rope warming from the friction in my hand and her increasing arousal. I stand very close. My breath kisses her skin. My hands touch and stroke as I place the rope around her body. Around her chest above and below her breasts, then thread it between them to separate and confine. Multiple knots, loops and ties create an exotic looking exoskeleton of intricate, intertwining rope on her body. I take my time and frequently check her eyes to see her slowly drift closer to the head space I want her to be in. Her face is completely relaxed, her breathing soft and deep, and her eyes are a mix of glaze and shine.

I stroke her cheek to gain her attention, my voice deep and firm, breaking through her haze. “Hey beautiful, are you okay?” Her smile creeps across her face at a glacial pace but lights up the room.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Okay, beautiful. You ready to try some suspension?” Her eyes widen with worry, but I really want to take her here. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were ready, Sam. Trust me?”

“I do, and yes, I’d like to try that.” I swoop in to steal a kiss because my whole body is aching for more, and the way her lips part when she exhales a sweet breath are an invitation I can’t deny myself. I secure the tie around her waist and loop the rope through that and the three-point pulley that distributes the weight at her chest, her hips, and eventually her thighs once I have finished tying them. I pull her so she is floating at my waist height. Her head drops back, and she closes her eyes. I hold her close to stop her swinging and start to bind her lower legs to her thighs.