Page 59 of Piece Us Together
“It’s alright, darling. What’s your color? Are you with us enough to tell me?”
“Green, sir.” He blinks again. Harder this time. I flinch, realizing I’m pulling him from subspace. Guilt eats away as he asks, “Is—is Maison okay?”
“I’m green,” I say quickly. “Just—I was just checking. Sorry. Keep going.”
Hunter eyes me for a moment before returning to his work. He’s working quickly again. I’m realizing it’s not because he’s in a hurry, but because he’s so good at this. His long fingers maneuver the rope like it’s an old friend, or maybe a good little sub that does anything he asks of it. The knots seem to appear out of nowhere, just a few twists and turns, and suddenly an artistic bundle of rope is there, deep green pressing into Nolan’s milky skin.
It’s equal parts the most beautiful, most erotic thing I’ve ever watched a pair of hands do.
When he finishes, Hunter just sits on the bed beside Nolan, his hand firmly in place on Nolan’s knee. I don’t want to ask what’s happening, worried I’ll pull Nolan out of subspace again. I think I trust Hunter enough to wait this out.
To a point.
Just as I’m starting to feel antsy, I notice Nolan’s breathing shift. Hunter smiles. “There you are. How are you feeling, darling?”
“Greeeen,” Nolan says on a sigh. “Real green.”
“Can you hold yourself up for a few minutes? Be good for us?”
“Can try, sir.”
“Yellow or two snaps and we’ll brace you again, okay?”
He sighs again and I can only imagine the dopey smile on his face. I bet it’s beautiful.He’sbeautiful. “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” Hunter pulls him forward, his back no longer against me, and helps him adjust his positioning until he’s perfectly balanced. I step back when Hunter leaves the bed and comes around to check all of his knots and the tension of the ropes. When he’s satisfied, he steps aside and gestures for me to take his place. “Check it out, if you’d like.”
I feel like I’m burning up as I obey. The worry and curiosity are far away now, nothing but arousal and adrenaline hanging around. Everything is electric. Intense.
It somehow feels like the rope is around me too, an echo of dominance, an echo of Hunter. It settles me. Thrills me. It makes my heart pound. Makes my cock throb.
It takes considerable effort to keep my eyes on Nolan when I feel Hunter settle right behind me. He hovers just inches away, his breath falling on the back of my neck, the heat of him radiating like a beacon, begging me to sink into.
“Go ahead,” he murmurs, his arm brushing against mine as he reaches for Nolan. He’s only close enough to skim the very tips of his fingers along the ropes with his arm fully extended. It forces him to be pressed up against me. He’s all hard lines and warm skin and a large cock along the curve of my ass.
I try not to press back, try not to chase his heat and his pleasure and his attention. It’s difficult, enough so to have me trembling with the effort, but I miraculously manage.
“Touch him,” he whispers against the shell of my ear. “Map it out.”
I obey, retracing the route his fingers took before moving on. I let my fingertips dip whenever I reach a knot, lingering at the skin compressed beneath the tight balls of rope. The simple brush of skin on skin is always enough to have Nolan shivering when I do.
Hunter’s hand finds my hip. I open my mouth, ready to tell him to back the fuck off. The words don’t come, stuck to my tongue with the molasses of my secret wants. Hunter uses the hold to guide me a step forward. My body doesn’t crawl or itch or fight against being controlled. It melts, sinking back against his chest, letting my head loll against his shoulder. He hums, a pleased hum that I’ve heard him give Nolan before. It’s a heady feeling, having that noise for myself.
“See here?” His other hand appears, sliding over mine where I’m mapping out the slope of the binding toward Nolan’s hip. His fingers are warm. Slightly thinner and longer than mine. No callouses. I let him slot our fingers together, my eyes locked on them. I let him move our hands lower, to the knot on Nolan’s hip. I let him curl our pointer and middle fingers around the rope and give it a tug. “See how it doesn’t give much?” He makes us release the rope, moving our fingers beneath to touch the imprint pressed into Nolan’s skin. The bumps are light pink. When we touch them, Nolan whimpers. I can see his cock leaking onto the bed.
“This pretty pink, with the subtle bumps, is perfect. Anything deep red or purple means they’re too tight. No imprint and too much give when you pull means they’re too loose.” He lifts his other hand from my hip, moving it until our hands are pressed together on the left now too. He guides until I’m gripping each hip’s knot. It forces him to press harder against me, to almost curl around my frame. It takes everything in me not to grind against him. “These knots are essential for suspending him, butthey serve a purpose for us tonight, too. Do you know how, Maison?”
I exhale. It’s shaky. Heavy. I fight very hard against the urge to whimper or cry or shove my pants to my ankles and beg him to fuck me right here. When I trust myself, I ask, “How?”
“They’re perfect little handles to hold while we fuck him.” I shiver, the image he paints appearing vivid in my head, Nolan needy and helpless as I use the bindings to fuck him back onto my cock like he’s a toy. He’d fucking love it. I know he would. And I—fuck, I’d love it too. “Do you want to fuck your boy, Maison?”
I nod, but my hands shift and grab at Hunter’s fingers when he starts to pull away. It’s just a second, a single moment of weakness, but he catches it. He remains frozen even after I’ve let him go. I try to think of what to say, of how to spin it, of how to escape.
He doesn’t give me the chance. His hands pull away, but only to come to the waistband of my underwear. I grit my teeth as his thumbs dip inside.This is against the rules, right? Should I say something? Do I…want to say something?
“Color?” Hunter breathes.
Nolan whips his head over his shoulder, staring at us with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.