Schooled (Mastered 2.5)

As he pulled the rope between her thighs, he kept the two sections separate as he nestled it in the crack of her ass. Once the ropes reached the pucker of her anus, he crossed them, creating a point of constant friction against the nerve-rich tissue there.

Amery made a soft gasp.

Ronin looked up, greedily studying her face as he tugged the rope up and tucked it against her pussy lips along both sides of the split in her sex. After he’d tied the rope off, he ran his thumb down her slit, resting it at the opening of her pussy. He bit back a snarl of satisfaction at the warm yielding of her body as he pushed his thumb in, coating the digit with her wetness. Immediately an intense need to sink his cock into her arose. To feel the jute abrading them as he fucked her past rope subspace into unsurpassed orgasmic bliss.

With renewed anticipation, he dragged his thumb up the pink flesh exposed by his ropes. He teased her swollen clit with a light touch, denying her an orgasm and denying himself even a quick taste of her sweetness.

Ronin snagged another coil of rope and tied it off, beginning the diamond pattern down her left leg. His fingers flew with confident strokes. After finishing, he scrutinized the work. Not his greatest results. It showed when he didn’t take care with the tying.

No, it shows that you haven’t been practicing as you need to. Keeping up with your rope work is muscle memory and as important as any martial arts training.

While he knew there was no such thing as perfection, striving for it had always been his goal. His cheeks heated as the flaws in his technique leapt out at him. Flaws not in the canvas but with the painter.

He further studied his design. His finger traced each wrap on the front side of her body. Then he moved in behind her. With the uneven rope spacing and the odd placement of the bamboo stick, this binding screamed “amateur.” Now he was relieved there wouldn’t be photographic evidence of his less-than-stellar rope work.

Is this session about you? Or about her? In your haste to complete the design have you forgotten the journey is as important as the end result?

As much as he hated having his rope master instructor’s voice in his head during these intimate moments, the truth was he needed the reminders about the true goal of kinbaku—especially lately.

Fix it. Focus on her.

Ronin placed a kiss below her jaw, encouraging her to bare her throat to him. He maneuvered her upper body into a curve, and caressed her while he tied the last dangling rope from the rafter to the left side of the chest harness. “Stretch to the right. That’s it. Let yourself go.”

As usual, Amery looked spectacular bound—a heady mix of innocence and sensuality. But his vision wasn’t complete. Something was missing.

The inside of his forearm brushed her neck as he reached around and pulled the chopsticks from her up-do.

Amery’s gorgeous, strawberry-blond hair tumbled down in soft waves.

That was it. The last piece of the puzzle.

Ronin admired her. With his hands. With his mouth. With his words. “Stunning visage, baby. Thank you for this gift. The name of this binding is ‘swaying cherry tree.’ The bamboo rod supports the spine—the trunk. This curved position of your body denotes the natural arc of branches.” Crushing a handful of her hair, he brought it to his lips before letting it fall. “The way your hair hangs symbolizes the long strands of blossoms on a weeping cherry tree.”

Her chest rose and fell slowly as he wove another spell with his words.

“And these?” Ronin thrummed her nipples, the rigid points poking out between the strands of rope. “They bring to mind the new red buds, eagerly waiting to flower.” He slid his palm down the center of her torso, loving how this angle accentuated her womanly curves. Gently stroking her clit, he dragged an openmouthed kiss from the hollow behind her ear down the slope of her neck. “And this”—he rubbed circles around that swollen flesh—“is the sweetest bud of all. Surrounded by soft pink petals. Emitting such a heavenly scent. And the sweet nectar that gathers here”—he dipped his finger into the cream—“draws me in like nothing else.”

“Ronin. Please. . . .”

He kissed her while he continued to caress her. Drawing out her pleasure. Her body quivered and he swallowed her escalating moans. He pulled back to whisper, “Come for me, baby,” against her mouth.

And she did. Immediately. Beautifully. Holding herself rigid as she climaxed. Even in the aftermath, she held the pose, looking gorgeously spent.

Ronin freed her from the binding. The bamboo pole hit the patio deck with a loud clatter, making Amery jump. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured against her nape as he undid the last section of the chest harness. He lifted her into his arms and she curled into him, her trust absolute.

He walked the garden path and laid her on the blanket he’d spread out.

Resting on his knees next to her hip, Ronin gathered a handful of cherry blossoms and sprinkled them above her. The pink-edged flowers floated down, landing on her chest and the smooth expanse of her belly.

“That tickles,” she said with a smile.

He scattered another handful over her mound and between her thighs. “If you wiggle too much they’ll slide off. Which would be a shame because you look lovely like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like a lusty earth goddess covered in cherry blossoms.”

“Ronin. Take the blindfold off. Please. I want to see.”

Once the material cleared her forehead, she opened her eyes and pushed up onto her elbows.