She arched back but didn’t have anywhere to go with her hands tied. Ronin’s mouth suctioned to her neck as his fingers twisted her nipple to the pulsing rhythm coursing through her.

By the time she floated back down, Ronin’s touches were aggressive.

He shifted her into the position he wanted—on her knees on a training mat, her chest against the cool vinyl, her ass in the air. Those skilled hands skimmed her naked back from the start of her spine to where her bound hands rested above her ass. Her name tumbled from his lips as soft as a sigh, but with as much reverence as the way he touched her. His potent mix of affection and need flowed through her when he clamped his hands on her hips and anchored his body behind hers.

The thick head of his c**k circled the opening once before he plunged into her pu**y to the hilt.

Although she was wet and she’d already come once, the ferocity of his thrusts made her breath catch. Good thing he’d switched his grip from her hips to the ropes binding her arms or she would’ve gone skittering across the mat.

But it felt good. Empowering. She’d driven Ronin Black to the tipping point. And he was proving his mastery with every hard, driving thrust. He didn’t speak. The only indication he’d finally reached the end of the climb was when his fingers dug into her hips and he released a soft grunt as his heat filled her.

Afterward Ronin retreated and pulled her to her feet. He immediately picked her up, cradling her in his arms as he carried her to his bedroom. The man wasn’t even breathing hard when he laid her on his big bed.

He kissed her with hunger and delicacy. First her mouth, then his lips meandered down her torso, stopping at her swollen clit. He was ruthless in bringing her to climax again with his tongue and soft, sucking kisses.

Amery sighed, surprised she had breath enough in her lungs to make any noise at all.

He traced the skin above the first rope wrap as he untied it. “You are beautiful bound. Beautiful in your surrender to me.”

“Even when you had to talk me down?”

Those ever-changing brown eyes hooked hers. “Especially then.”

“Ronin—”

“Hold on for a second.” He helped her into a sitting position and wedged himself between her knees. One quick tug and one of the knots on the chest harness loosened the binding above her br**sts. Blood rushed in and the painful pins-and-needles sensation would’ve brought tears to her eyes if not for Ronin’s mouth being right there to alleviate the sting.

“Oh my God.”

“You like that?” he murmured, moving to her other breast.

“It hurts. Then it doesn’t. Is it weird I miss the hurting sensation, but at the same time I don’t?”

“No, baby, it’s not. That’s why it’s called the edge between pleasure and pain.”

“It’s easier to understand when I’m actually dancing on that razor’s edge.” She let her head fall back as Ronin kissed and nuzzled every section of her chest where the ropes had been.

Then he was in her face wearing a look of satisfaction. “You took to bondage amazingly well.” He kissed her forehead. “Is that something you’d like to continue to explore with me?”

Amery blinked at him. “Why would you think I wouldn’t be interested?”

“I never assume.” Ronin brushed his cheek over hers. “You agreed to try it. That’s it.”

“And I liked it,” she blurted. “A lot.”

“Good to hear. I have plenty more ideas on how I’d like to bind you.”

She shifted her head and saw the red marks on her skin. All over her skin. Would the marks still be visible in the morning? Would her friends and clients recognize rope burns on her wrists?

He tipped her chin up. “Hey. Where’d you go?”

“Just worried about”—what other people will think? jumped into her head before she blocked it out. “How long will the rope marks show?”

“They’ll be gone in a few hours. But you’ve got to expect to have marks every time I bind you. It’s physics. Something coarse rubs against a soft surface and it’ll result in a mark.” Ronin dragged a fingertip across the red line above her left breast. “Some who are tied want the marks. In fact, the more marks the better. It’s a badge of honor for them.”

“But they don’t have mainstream jobs where they have to face, say, the church camp counselor, who’s picking up promotional materials and she sees the graphic artist with rope burns on her arms, wrists, and ankles.”

“Amery, I’d never put your livelihood in jeopardy. But there will be times when the marks won’t fade as fast as tonight. It depends on the size and type of rope, what pattern I’m attempting, where I tie you, if I use suspension, and even if I f**k you when you’re bound.”

“So maybe the question is, how often do you want to bind me? Every time we’re together? Will you demand it? Do you need it?” Sitting on the bed, naked, talking about bondage specifics should’ve made her feel sexually free, but mostly she felt confused and exposed.

Ronin gathered her into his arms.

Almost immediately, she relaxed.

“One thing at a time, okay?”

She nodded.

“There’s no need to set a schedule, like I’ll bind you on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and Wednesdays and Mondays are no-tie days. Kinbaku can be spontaneous. But I can also plan to practice a specific binding on you several days in advance. So I’d let you know, like tonight, that we’ll be in a more formal situation. Does that work for you?”