A horrified look crossed her face.
“What?”
“Red wax would look too much like blood, and I’ve seen enough of your blood to last me a lifetime.” She swallowed hard. “Red wouldn’t be sexy at all—”
“Ssh, hey.” He tugged her against his chest. “Bad idea. We’ll figure something out.”
Amery clung to him for minute and retreated. “I’ll go up to the roof and get those. You can go into the practice room and get ready.”
“Get ready?”
“Strip and meditate or whatever you do to prepare your mind for when you go into rope master mode.” She grinned. “Oh, and pick out the rope for your hands and a blindfold.”
“You are enjoying this far too much, Amery.”
She pecked him on the mouth. “I hope you enjoy it too.”
Ronin stared after her, hoping he didn’t freak out from the loss of control. He’d never allowed a woman to master him. For some reason, that’d always been a point of pride with him.
Pride goeth before a fall—and heaven knew he’d fallen for her hard since he’d agreed to put himself in her hands.
He unlocked the practice room and turned on the lights. Then he headed down the hallway to his bedroom. Getting naked wasn’t an option. Amery had worn pants during that encounter, and so would he. He stripped off his gi and dragged on a pair of nylon athletic shorts.
After washing up, Ronin strolled into the practice room. Amery was already there, standing in front of the picture of herself bound in red ropes.
Ronin moved in behind her. “Have you forgotten how stunning you are when I bind you?”
“Do I really look like that to you?” she asked softly.
“Yes.” He brushed his mouth across her ear. “You look like you belong in here, don’t you?”
“You mean the picture looks like it belongs in here.”
“That too.” He retreated and went to the small chest of drawers in the corner, which held miscellaneous items. He selected a simple black eye mask. When he turned around, Amery was right behind him.
“I believe it’s my right to select the blindfold. And nice try with that one, but no.” She ducked around him and rummaged through the pile until she found the one she wanted. She faced him, and a long black silk scarf dangled from her fingertips. “Oh, and FYI, I found a black candle on your sacrificial altar.”
He’d forgotten about that since he’d been lax in his meditation practice the past few weeks.
Amery snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Focus, sub.”
He lifted a brow. “Sub?”
“Kidding. Now, which rope do I use for the binding?”
Ronin picked up a fifteen-foot length of black cotton rope, half an inch in diameter. “Hold out your wrists so I can show you a fast and easy binding.” He folded the rope in half. “Where it’s folded is called the bight. Move down about twenty inches and hold it as you start to wrap the wrists. Make sure the wrists don’t touch, or you can’t finish the binding.” He wrapped the rope three times. “Now twist them together. Then drop the bight end and the end of the rope between the gap in the wrists. Pull both back up and tie a square knot.”
“Ronin, I don’t think I can do this.”
He smooched her lips. “Yes, you can.” He tugged, and the knot came free. Then he unwound the rope. “It doesn’t have to be perfect or tight. I’ll put out the rope scissors so if you do have a tying issue you can cut me free. Okay?”
“Okay.” She ran her fingers over the rope. “You trust me with this?”
“Yes.”
“I have to ask you something else.”
“What?”
“Will you let me take pictures of you if I feel the shots are right?”
That’d come out of nowhere. But it played into his need to document the art she let him create on her body with his ropes.
“I mean, it’ll be just like the shots you took of me. No one will see them unless you give me your permission.”
He tipped her chin up because she wouldn’t look at him. “Why are the pictures important to you? As proof that I surrendered myself to you?”
“No!” She placed her hand over his heart. “You are such a stunning man. Your face is a work of art. So is this sculpted body. I’d like to capture your strength and raw masculinity. Because, like you told me, the submissive has all the power. Call it whatever name you like, but when you’re bound and blindfolded, you will be submissive to me. I’d like to see if that dichotomy of strength and surrender is visible in photographs.” Amery gestured to the photo of herself. “Kind of like you wanted to show the innocence and passion in me.”
“You make a compelling argument. And I’ll agree. With one stipulation.”
“You and your damn stipulations,” she grumbled.
“That you allow me to photograph you bound again.”
Amery bit her lip, clearly torn. Finally she said, “All right.”
He smiled. “Now that we’re through negotiations, where do you want me?”
“Sit on the bench. Arms behind you.”
Ronin was oddly nervous.
“Close your eyes,” she said behind him. She tipped his head back and ran her fingers through his hair. “I love your hair. It’s perfect. Thick and dark and so soft to the touch.” She pulled it all back and gathered it at his nape. “I love that you wear it long. It’s your rogue samurai warrior side showing. And I really”—she breathed in his ear—“really love how your hair feels brushing across my skin. Sexy and naughty and hot.
“When you made me come last night? And you turned your head to rub your damp lips on the top of my thigh? The ends of these silky strands teased across my leg and I almost came again.”
Jesus. He might not survive her sweet dirty talk. Tingles shot down his spine whenever her breath flowed over his skin.
“Every time you go down on me and you do that soft kiss and nuzzle thing on my inner thighs? Like you can’t get enough of the taste of me or the scent of me . . . I melt.” She kissed the top of his ear. “You own me in that moment, Ronin.”
His c**k was fully erect by the time she finished securing his hair in a ponytail.
“Now for the blindfold.”
Cool silk covered his eyes.
She knotted it below his ponytail. “Is that too tight?”
“It’s fine.”