Page 92 of Lesson In Honesty
“There won’t be any pain, sweetheart,” he assured her, sounding distracted. Moving around her, he wove a tantalizing web. “However, you are exhausted which means you’ll reach your limits faster. Have you ever been so tired that noises seem louder, your skin becomes oversensitive?”
Once or twice. Usually when she hadn’t slept for a couple of days. “Yes, sir.”
“You might find you’ll experience it again. If you reach that point, we need to know.” His fingers cupped her right breast, testing the shape and weight, before doing the same with her left. With a quiet hum, he brought both sides of the rope beneath them, tied a knot, then adjusted the placement. “Do you know the four-count for breathing, Sierra?”
Her throat tightened. “I’m familiar with it, sir.”
“Good. Start now, please.” His gaze flashed up to hers briefly. “Relax, sweetheart. Breathe, relax, and enjoy.”
Ha, was he joking?
Relax? There were another four hungry lions—fuck, Masters, not freakinglions—hanging around on the sidelines waiting forhim to finish tying her up so they could ravish her, and he wanted her torelax?
She’d been a virgin before she gave herself to Wyatt in an act of love that wasn’t reciprocated. That gift had been abused and thrown back in her face. Liam came along and swept her off her feet, and for a while she’d been the squishy filling in a Dom sandwich.
After that, it was just her and Liam, though intimacy had been… sporadic.
She twitched as the backs of Ford’s fingers brushed along a particularly erogenous zone on her back, shivering as the acute pleasure arrowed straight between her legs.
Mack was only her third lover. Herthird. She knew subs in Avalon who slept with more Doms than that in a week. He and Liam hadn’t even taken her together yet, and now she was facing a firing squad of very masculine, incredibly dominant males.
More men than she’d been with in her lifetime in one freaking go.
“I said breathe, Sierra.” Fordham gave her ass a quick smack. “Do I need to count with you?”
“No, sir.” She forced herself to close her eyes and block out the sensual winding of the rope around her upper chest. If she didn’t look, she might be able to shut out the Masters as well.
Inhale—one, two, three, four.
Hold—one, two, three, four.
Exhale—one, two, three, four.
Sierra fell back into the rhythm easily, concentrating on the count rather than the stressors around her. With her brain occupied by the task, her body was free to absorb touch and sensation.
Each skim of Fordham’s skin against hers.
The subtle tightening of the soft, soft rope.
The press of carefully positioned knots.
Bit by bit, he built a wearable hug. As the rope web extended down her body, it felt as though strong arms embraced her, taking away the anxiety and uncertainty of a situation of which she had zero control.
Her stomach and hips fell victim to the rope.
Her head dropped forward, no longer cluttered.
“Are you getting this, Levi?”
She moaned, hearing Liam’s voice and wanting to find the source. Her head felt too heavy, her eyes unwilling to open. Peace was a wicked drug, soothing and comforting.
“Yeah, I got her. She looks fucking amazing on camera. They’re going to be beautiful photos, Liam.”
A sliver of unease wormed through her, threatening her sanctuary.
Camera? Photos?
No.