“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he grunted, walking me backward to smash against the wall. “It’s not going to fucking work.” Ending the kiss with a painful nip, he unhooked my arms. “You’re trying to get me to lose control, but for once in my life I’m enjoying straddling the line of right and wrong. I’m loving hurting you but also pleasuring you. And I know you’re loving it, too.”

The hand not tangled in ropes came up, wrapping around my throat. “God, I missed you, Tess.”

My stomach flip-flopped at the ray of truth in the darkness of our games. “I love you,” I murmured, accepting his gentle kiss.

The softness morphed to tension again as Q pulled away. His lips twisted into a grin. “You’re going to look divine.”

Unknotting the rope in his grip, he ordered, “Stand there and don’t move.”

I stood breathing shallowly as he draped one long piece over my shoulders. It tickled my skin, slinking around my waist. His face darkened with concentration and I tried to follow his quick hands.

More twists, more loops. Each rope sent my body thrilling.

Q dropped to his knees, nudging my legs apart. Looking up, he said, “I’m not a master at Shibari, so this isn’t going to be perfect.”

I inspected what he’d done so far—the thicker knots on some points, the looseness of others. Rows upon rows of ropes, leading from my shoulders and back to my hips. “It looks like you know enough.”

He smiled. “I’ve practiced enough to know how to make a harness.”

My heart stuttered at the thought of him doing this to another woman. Fierce hot jealousy filled me. My fingers curled by my sides.

Q noticed. Of course he fucking noticed.

“Something you want to say, Tess?”

I bit my cheek. There were plenty of things I wanted to say, but—oh, screw it. “I hate the thought of your past. You’re mine.”

He chuckled. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.” He followed the contours of my body, threading silk around my thighs, knotting them intricately.

The black colour made my white skin come alive, like a canvas covered with lashes of paint, or even handwriting—a contract of ropes.

I hated the churning in my stomach. I had no right to be possessive of his past. We all had them—it was pointless to torture myself with who he might’ve done this with.

Trying to distract myself, I glared at his tattoo, letting the birds fill my vision as Q tied the last knots around my knees.

Standing, he appraised his handiwork. Prodding a finger in one knot, and testing the tightness of another, he finally nodded.

His hand fell to his cock, stroking himself, his eyes drinking me in. “I wish I had a camera. You’ve never looked more beautiful." Pulling me forward, he whispered against my mouth, “And I said I practiced. Not that I practiced on someone. This is a first for me, too.”

A smile tugged my lips. He let me go to gather the chain from the statue he’d removed.

Undoing the carabiner, he smirked. “Turn around.”

Oh, God. Am I ready for this?

My heart thundered as I shuffled in place, facing away. I shivered as Q came close, hooking the carabiner and chain to the rope harness behind me. With strong arms, he suddenly picked me up, cradling me against his front.

“J'ai besoin que tu fasses quelque chose pour moi.” I need you to do something for me, he said, nuzzling my neck.

Having his hot breath on my skin undid all my worries. “Anything.”

“I’m going to flip you upside down. I’ll keep hold of you as your grip will be compromised because your shoulders are fastened, but you need to stay as still as possible.”

My eyes flew upward to the ceiling. He was going to secure me upside down, hanging? What did you think was going to happen? I seriously hadn’t thought this through.

I swallowed my fears, nodding. Q manoeuvred my body first to face him, then sideways. I held my breath as vertigo stole me.

From vertical to horizontal, I clung to his hips as best I could. From horizontal to vertical, his cock brushed my breasts. With undeniable strength he forced me upside down, holding me steady.

I clamped my arms around his thighs, cursing the ropes around my shoulders not letting me hug him.

I jolted as a rush of hot breath brushed against my core. Oh, God.

My eyes squeezed, hyperaware of his mouth so close. I wanted it. I wanted another orgasm. His arms bunched, holding my weight. He jostled me, keeping me pinned with one arm while reaching for the hook with the other. His attention was wholly on stringing me up and not on the part of me screaming for attention.

“Hold on. I’m just securing—” His distraction allowed me time to revel in his hot form against mine.

I clutched him hard, cursing my jitteriness at the newness of what was to come. His body stretched and tightened, straining on his toes to secure the chain back onto its original hook.

The ropes tugged my back, curving around my body, cocooning me in a prison of silk.

“Let go, Tess,” Q ordered. His hands fell to my waist, trying to push me off him.

I only gripped harder. I didn’t trust it. Images of slamming onto my head gave me a phantom headache. Blood rushed to my skull, roaring in my ears.

“Let go, esclave.” Q pinched me, stepping away, forcing me to release. I swung, snapping into place, held by the chain. The ropes took my weight, tightening against my body, but not enough to strangle or cut off my blood supply. The knots Q had created kept it from slicing me.

Everything I knew was different. Up was now down. Down was now up. I felt awkward and uncomfortable and completely strange. My legs were bound loosely together, letting my knees fall downward like an upside down crouch, leaving me blatantly exposed and open.

My arms were tied to my body, giving no hope of escape.

Q disappeared and came back with a stool. With strength I’d always found such a turn on, he hoisted me higher, gradually shortening the chain until my mouth was at the perfect height.

Hip height.

Cock height.

I blinked, fighting a rush of nausea. It was surreal to be hanging upside down, so vulnerable.

Stepping off the stool, Q kicked it away. His hands whispered over my stomach, slowly changing my discomfort to eagerness.

Even upside down, Q painted an incredible sight. His legs were spread, powerful quads tight and covered in a splashing of hair. His cock hung heavy and hard, perfectly straight and begging to fill me. His tattoo only added to his mystique and erotic allure.

Planting himself in front of me, he stroked my dangling hair before caressing my cheek. “I never thought I’d get to see you like this, Tess. I’m ready to fucking blow just thinking about all the delicious things I can do.” His touch turned dangerous as he cupped my breast. “Who’s your master?”

My eyes refused to stay open as he squeezed my nipple. “You.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

His touch danced over my sides, pushing me, making me spin slowly. His fingers trailed around my rotating body, never stopping their exploration. I flinched when he touched my burning backside and thighs, the tender skin way too sensitive.

“You’re my every fantasy come to life. I can’t believe you’re real.” His mouth kissed my upper thigh, his five o’clock shadow rasping. “I’m going to worship you.” His breath skated over my pussy.

I moaned; I’d never been so sensitive, so aware of the predicament I was in.

His lips moved to my hipbone, nipping tenderly. “Do you know what I’m going to do first?”

I whimpered, closing my eyes, focused entirely on his words whispering over my skin.

“I’d planned on punishing you. I’d planned on marking you, like I did with the wax on your breast. I’d planned on doing so many things but my self-control won’t let me.” He spun me around, slapping hands on my smarting ass. “Do you know why I can’t?”

I shook my head, feeling heavy and slow with the rush of blood in my ears. “It’s because I need to be inside you. I need to claim you. I’ve marked you enough, and I have plenty of time to mark you after—but right now—I need to fuck you.”

I shivered. Lust replaced heaviness, flowing thick and fast.

Q brought me to face him. His cock filled my vision; my mouth watered.

“However, before I can fill you, I have to do one thing. I promised. And I never break my promises.” His mouth came achingly close to my pussy. His hands landed on very sensitive inner thighs, keeping me spread. I cringed in embarrassment, then cried out as he trailed his nose through my folds. “Goddammit, you smell divine.”

I twisted in the ropes. Lick me. “Q—”

“What was my promise, esclave?” His breath tickled my clit, making me jerk in the ropes.

“You said…” I couldn’t continue—his nose nuzzled me again.

“Go on…” He pulled away, leaving me throbbing for more.

“You said you would make me come on your fingers, tongue, and cock.”

“Good girl. And do you think you deserve my tongue?”

Damn his mental torture. I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab his head and force him to lick. But I hung completely helpless. “Yes…I deserve it. Please—give it to me.”

Q’s fingers bit into my flesh. “Ask nicely, Tess. Do you want me to taste you?”

I bit my lip, humming in acknowledgement.

My mouth popped wide as his tongue licked once—thoroughly and languishingly—over my entrance.

“Say please if you want me to fuck you with my tongue, esclave.”

My core liquefied. “Please. S'il vous plait. I want your tongue, maître.”