to push the words away.
Lane walked across the room, grabbing her right wrist as he did to drag her along with him. “You will obey me, trust me.”
“You will earn it .”
He stopped short and Addie slammed into him. Pinching her chin, he tilted her face up so their gazes met. “I thought I had. What did I do that made you feel you couldn’t trust me?”
Addie lowered her gaze to his lips, breathing heavily through her nose. There was nothing to say—he hadn’t done anything wrong. But it had to be a mistake to give in so readily to something—submission—that went against everything she was.
The silence held for another long beat and Lane pulled away, leaving her. Addie looked at her bare toes, wondering if she’d made a tactical error. When a pile of rope landed near her left foot, she still wasn’t sure.
“This is nylon rope.” Lane rubbed a loop of the rope, about as wide as a tube of mascara, against her belly. “It’s smooth, meaning it won’t abrade your skin. Rope burn isn’t just an expression.”
“Is this another rule, only use nylon rope?” she quipped, but the words came out a little shaky.
“No, there’s no rule. When I play, I consider the fact that my subs have normal lives, jobs, sometimes husbands or boyfriends who aren’t into BDSM. All those things equal no lasting marks on wrists or ankles—hence nylon.” As he spoke, Lane loosely wrapped three loops of rope around her right wrist. He fed the end under the loops, against the top of her arm, and tied an elaborate knot. A long tether dangled from the rope bracelet he’d just made. He repeated the process for her other wrist.
“You have sex with married women?”
“Some of them are.”
“And you’re okay with that, you think that’s what marriage is?”
“I think,” Lane made a large double loop of rope in his hand and tied another complicated knot, “that a marriage is between two people, and if part of that marriage involves the woman having a session with me, then I’m more than happy to help.” Lane dropped the loop over her head. The knot rested against her breastbone. “And I never said I had sex with them, that was you.”
“A noose?” Addie plucked at rope now dangling around her neck. “Charming.” She tugged at the trailing end. It didn’t tighten.
“Did you really think I’d put a slipknot around your neck?”
She shrugged but didn’t answer.
Lane shook his head. “You’re pushing my buttons, girl.”
“Don’t like it when they aren’t just falling all over themselves to fuck you, boy?” Addie raised a brow and smiled.
Lane dropped to his knees before her and created two more rope bracelets around the top of her calves, just below her kneecaps. “I don’t like it when my subs won’t tell me what’s really going on, what they’re really thinking and feeling.”
“Your subs…like a stable of horses.”
Lane rose, gathering the trailing ends of the five ropes. “Anything but, that’s not how I see the women I share these experiences with.”
“I bet you thi—”
“Enough.” Lane pulled the rope attached to her right knee, buckling that leg. Addie tumbled into him.
“Bastard,” she hissed against his shirt. He smelled like fabric softener, leather and sweat.
“Though this whole experience was meant to be more of a sample than a true introduction to being a submissive, I think you need some proper training. Follow me.”
Lane walked to the dining set. He was holding the ropes, giving Addie no choice but to follow close behind him.
Addie couldn’t seem to center herself. One moment she was riding the fire of her anger, her determination to stay strong in the face of his arrogant domination helping her to ignore the arousal churning in her belly. In the next breath something he said would throw her off beat, like his admitting to being with married women, and she’d lose track of both her anger and arousal.
“Up. Up on the table.”
“What?” Addie’d been
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