Traps paused in the doorway of his room, staring at the vision on his bed. Yes, this is real. Yes, you’re really doing it. No, you’re not ever turning back.
He slowly shut the door behind him, the click echoing in the quiet room. He made his way to the bed, staring down at his little sacrificial, wicked nun- wife . He carefully set his ropes down at the foot of the bed, fighting the hungers she provoked in him. All the why’s would soon be answered. And he’d start at the very beginning, from the moment she learned he’d picked her—or thought he had—to this moment.
“Are you ready, wife?” he said, sitting on the bed next to her, admiring the contrast of her creamy skin against the black bear pelts he’d stitched together.
“Yes,” she gasped.
He didn’t have to wonder what had hold of her body and mind, her fear was its own power in the air. He’d been debating when to have her naked and decided he’d use that as leverage during interrogation. If she wasn’t honest with him, it’d cost her, and he’d begin with what covered her body. Her body that would soon be his body if he found her worthy enough to take.
“Sit up, Ma Petite Fyoo-rie,” he said, keeping his voice gentle.
She obeyed immediately, her chest heaving, eyes still clenched tight.
“Turn so that your back faces me.” After she complied, he reached for the smaller hemp rope and knelt on the bed behind her. “Get on your knees.”
He set the rope down and helped her into position, making sure his touch matched his gentle tone. “I’m going to bind you in tah-kah- teh-koh- teh,” he said, taking her long hair into his hands. The feel of the heavy silk intoxicated him as he gathered it into a high ponytail. “I don’t mind that you’re afraid,” he whispered. “But… I will not hurt you.” He removed the tie from his own hairlocks and used it to secure her glorious mane that would serve as its own rope later.
“Relax your arms at your sides, Petite Fyoo-rie,” he instructed, holding her left shoulder with one hand and gliding his fingers down her other arm. He stopped at her wrist and clutched it tightly in his fingers, giving it a slow tug. “Just a little twist,” he whispered, turning her palm in toward her body then slowly moving her hand to the center of her back. He did the same with the other, going slowly, savoring the feel of her in his fingers, the sight of him taking ownership of her tiny frame. Once he had both hands in the center of her back, he began wrapping, again taking his time and forming the loops perfectly while ensuring the fibers lay exactly where they needed for optimal control and comfort.
He slid his fingers along the column of her neck, then shoulder blades, lowering his mouth near her ear, desperate to take a taste. “How do the ropes feel, wife? On a pleasure scale of one to ten.”
“They… don’t feel bad.”
He stroked the long mane of hair in his right hand, slowly winding it around his fist. He gently tugged, forcing her face up at his. He studied her beauty, letting it feed his hunger. Eyes closed, worry between her brows… those perfect red lips parted with shallow breaths. Fuck, he craved her. “That’s not what I asked.” Hunger drew his mouth right next to hers, tripling her fear and excitement.
“T-ten,” she barely gasped, her breaths shaking with the rest of her.
He paused at that answer, allowing his mouth to graze her cheekbone. “I believe you,” he whispered, letting her know he was judging every word. He turned her face, studying various angles till his hunger turned wild. “Ma Belle Petite Fyoo-rie.” He held her mane tight, sliding his other hand along the column of her neck, letting her feel his advantage over her. “I’m going to lay you on your back now.”
He gently scooped her up in his arms and set her down in the center of the bed. “You will tell me immediately if there is pain,” he instructed her. “Oui?”
She nodded with her eyes tightly closed still. “Oui,” she whispered, her breaths shaking more.
“Tell me what has you afraid, Fyoo-rie.” He tossed one end of another hemp rope over the beam above the bed. “Do you fear I will hurt you?”
The quick shake of her head brought another spear of desire to his cock.
He slid her dress very slowly up before tucking it down next to her knees, letting her see the pace he was setting. He gazed at her tiny foot and used both hands to lift it by the ankle, hungrily exploring every inch of it with his fingers before allowing his touch to move over her calf. He pressed into the muscle, measuring her delicate strength before focusing his touch just behind her knee. There, he drew circular patterns on the silky skin, his gaze moving up, stopping at the heave of her chest. Sharp heat stabbed his cock as he stared at her tits. The position of the rope forced the fabric covered mounds to stand tight and tall. He would soon see her naked in his ropes and the idea put a steady pulse in his cock.
He returned his attention back to her ankle and picked up the hemp, taking his time with the wrap while considering which questions to ask first. “Tell me, Fyoo-rie… I want to know exactly what you thought when you first learned I picked you.”
He finished the wraps on her first ankle when she finally whispered, “Shocked.”
He made his way around the bed and tossed a second rope over the beam before taking soft hold of her ankle. “Were you happy?”
His breath released when she nodded.
“On a scale of one to ten?” His wraps slowed as he waited for that answer till his balls ached from the anticipation.
“Twenty.”
His hands stilled as he looked at her. The need to kiss her brought him to her face. He stared down at her clenched eyes and lowered his mouth to her forehead. “Twenty,” he whispered, feeling the silk with his lips. “That’s a high number, Ma Fyoo-rie.”
“Oui,” she whispered weakly.
Desire burned up his initial shock as his mind hurried to the next knot between them. “Is this why you were so pissed when you learned I rolled the Fate Dice for you?”
Her next “Oui,” was tiny and vulnerable, bringing his hand to her neck. He slid his fingers over the column and the barest moan escaped her, dumping lust in his blood as he traced her jaw with every finger.
“You like this, Ma Petite Fyoo-rie.”
Her breaths came faster as he slid his touch over her parted lips. “Oui.” The hot word hit his fingers, bringing a moan in his chest.
“Tell me exactly what you thought when you learned about the Fate Dice.” He wrapped her other ankle while waiting for that answer. He moved to the foot of the bed, not caring about answers or words as he took hold of her ankles and moved them slowly apart.
“Neelo,” she gasped as he planted his gaze between her legs. But insanity threatened if he didn’t see that part of her soon.
“I thought you didn’t really want me,” she blasted, her strained breaths following. He continued opening her legs more. “Oh,” she panicked, more moans accompanying every breath.
“And what do you think now, Petite Fyoo-rie? Does my touch say I don’t want you?” He moved his hands up her leg till they disappeared under the dress. He slowed his advance, loving the eager way her body moved for him. At reaching the fabric of her panties, he stopped, pressing his fingers into her muscles in slow, sensual circles.
“Please,” she cried weakly.
Fuck, he wanted to devour her now that he knew why she hated him. She thought he didn’t want her as much as she wanted him. And she’d wanted him twice as much as his highest measure. A fatal blow to her sweet spirit. He should atone for that one sin right away. Then return to unraveling her.
He moved to the foot of the bed and wrapped the end of both ropes around the thick bed posts, creating a pulley effect. He then gently tugged on both ropes till her legs spread wide and pulled tight. As he continued adding tension to the hemp, her ass slowly lifted off the bed. He took his time on this part, raising her lower body until the angle was sharp enough that her dress fell to her waist. Holy fuck. He stared at her exposed lace covered ass and pussy as feral lust boiled him alive.
Her shocked cries and moans filled him up as he climbed on the bed and knelt between her open legs, taking in the fucking decadent view as he drew his fingers along her inner thighs. He stopped at the juncture letting her gasps and delicate whimpers burn his control up. He’d not once talked about intimate things with her out of respect and establishing trust before crossing that boundary. She was his wife, but they were technically strangers. Now, given the revelation she’d just confessed, he had to wonder if she’d misinterpreted his patience with disinterest.
“Did you think I didn’t want you, Petite Fyoo-rie? Did you not know I counted myself the most lucky bastard to end up with you?” He placed his hands fully in the juncture of her thighs and began squeezing her muscles softly.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Neelo.”
“Fyoo-rie,” he whispered, pressing his mouth on the silky muscle. “Have you been touched before? Here?” He stroked his fingers right over her pussy, just barely.
“I can’t! I can’t take it!” she gasped.
“Answer me, Fyoo-rie. I have to know. There is no wrong answer.”
Her head shook with her, “No. Not ever.”
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, licking the muscle along her inner thigh. “I will be the first to taste this beautiful body?”
“Yes,” she panted. “Please.”
“Please,” he whispered, kissing a path toward her pussy, allowing his fingers to dip into her petals. “I want to bathe my lips and tongue in what drips from you.” He slid her panties aside, looking at her face below, gripped in intense rapture. “Fyoo-rie. Watch me take my first lick.”
Her eyes slit open, and he held her drunken stare, dipping his tongue in her opening. Her mouth popped open with a sharp cry, her eyes holding his as he plunged his tongue with a groan, spreading her lips wide. “So. Fucking. Good.” He slid his tongue up for a leisure circle around her little bud, again groaning at her reaction.
“Oh please, Neelo, please. I can’t take it.”
“You need to come,” he knew. “So many times.” He placed delicate kisses on her clit, flicking it teasingly with his tongue in between.
“I’m going to! Oh! Suck me!”
He captured her clit and obeyed her sweet plea, trapping her hips in his fingers and riding the buck of her pussy against his ruthless mouth. He gave her a growling suck as her cries rose until she finally broke. But not until she shuddered her last tremor and gave up every moan did he release her.
Fuck, he was somehow more lost in her.
He moved his face along her silky thigh, the sound of her receding orgasm pure poetry in his soul. He needed to go so much deeper in her. But she was in his ropes. There were questions that needed answers still. Should he forget all of them and offer a do-over truce?
He lowered onto the bed and lay next to her. Moving onto his elbow, he stared at her pretty face, not wanting to disturb the silky bliss she was still wrapped in. “Did you like it?” he finally whispered, sliding his finger along her temple.
Her nod was as soft as her “Yes.”
“A scale of one to ten?” he asked, almost feeling like a boy after tying his first complicated knot.
She wet her lips, her breaths slowing more as her face flushed a little. “Fifty.”
The outrageous number was music to his blood which still hadn’t left his cock. She turned and looked at him, her pretty eyes lowering to the smile he wore. She raised her gaze to his again, the questions in her dark eyes popping all the bubbles in his joy. “What is it Fyoo-rie?”
She turned her face to the ceiling, her chest heaving for many seconds. “I’m sorry .”
The gasped confession came with tears that he quickly kissed as they fell.
“I’m not the person you think I am,” she said on a tiny squeak that speared right through his chest.
“Well, that’s a relief,” he softly joked, stroking her silky cheek. “I was wondering if I’d ever see the woman I met on our first date.”
She choked out a sob, turning her face away more. “You won’t meet her because she doesn’t exist. I was just pretending because... because… who I am doesn’t exist!”
He gently captured her jaw and turned her face, pausing at the amount of resistance she gave. “Look at me Fyoo-rie.”
“I can’t,” she strained, her chest heaving. “I’m ashamed that I lied to you but… I always lie.”
“What do you mean you don’t exist?” he asked, sure that was the knot to tackle first.
“I mean the person people see is fake, it’s not me.”
“Then who are you?”
“Nobody,” she choked out. “Every person I am is… borrowed from a book I read,” she gasped, her shame burning him.
“And why do you think you can’t pretend?” he wondered, trying to get at what she was seeing.
She snapped her tear-filled gaze at him. “You want me to pretend?”
“No-no-no,” he soothed, sliding his finger over the furrow in her brow. “I’m wondering why pretending is now a problem for you.”
She stared at him for many seconds, the question seeming difficult for her. She finally turned away again. “Because…”
The tiny squeak lit him on fire as his lungs held on to his breath, waiting. “There is no wrong answer with me, Fyoo-rie. You are safe to be you.”
“But that’s just it,” she wailed quietly, keeping her face turned as far as she could. “That woman you liked was fake.”
“Then I would like to meet the real you.”
She snapped her face back to him and that killer fury burned in her dark gaze. “You did. And you hate her.”
“You are wrong,” he assured. “The only thing I hated about her was that she never gave me a chance once she found out about the Fate Dice.”
Her brows drew together more somehow, her chest heaving with whatever brewed in her. “It wasn’t the Fate Dice that broke me.”
He captured her jaw when her lower lip trembled and kissed her. The expected resistance and fight never happened as she fought to taste him, sounding starved. Their breaths and tongues clashed as they feasted on one another while her last words niggled in his mind. He pulled back before he lost the dangling string that might unravel his biggest knot. “What broke you Ma Petite Fyoo-rie?”
She stared at his mouth, both of them winded from their kiss. “Because…” She closed her eyes. “I was jealous.”
Even without context, his cock liked that word coming from her but then the mystery of who or what she could be jealous of returned. “Of my ropes? Is that why you hid them?” He honestly couldn’t imagine anything else in his life she might be jealous of.
“No, of… that stupid woman I pretended to be.” She stared at him and turned her head away again. “Where is the woman I met on our date?” she reminded, her tiny voice melting his insides. And as he realized what she meant, he couldn’t stop his laughter. She flung her furious face back at him and he kissed her. “I’m laughing in joy,” he swore, wrestling her mouth back to his. He kissed her, loving how quickly she forgave him. “You were jealous of the woman you pretended to be, Ma Belle Fyoo-rie?”
“Yes,” she gasped as she leaned up to taste him. “I hated her with all my heart.”
“I want ma Fyoo-rie,” he swore hotly on her mouth. “No other.” He slid his hand under her head, gripping her ponytail and controlling her and the kiss. “You understand?”
“But… I’m—”
“Perfect,” he said, kissing her at a new angle.
“But I’m not witty and easy,” she moaned. “I’m not mannered or confident or secure or stable,” she gasped right in his mouth.
“Thank fuck,” he groaned, tugging her lip between his teeth, getting hungrier for her with every confession.
“Why, why is that good? God you’re an amazing kisser.”
He finally eased her head back to the bed, staring into her face. “You are not the only one who pretends, Fyoo-rie.”
Her delicate brows tugged together. “What? Why would you need to pretend, you’re… you’re amazing and strong and so… beautiful. Everybody loves you.”
He laughed at her cute criteria while his cock found it insanely arousing. “But is it really me that they love or the man I choose to show them?”
Her worry grew for him and the sight of such a thing touched him in his deepest parts. “Who are you hiding? And from who?”
He lay on his back next to her, laughing. He turned his head, and their gazes met till they burned as one. “I’m hiding the parts of me I don’t want to share with the world.”
This further astonished her. “Even your brothers? The Twelve?”
“Especially them,” he assured, leaning in and kissing her. “Ma Belle Fyoo-rie’s mouth is very cute when in shock.”
“Oh no,” she gasped lightly.
He drew his head back, smiling at the look of horror on her face.
“You probably will never feel safe to show me who you really are now.”
“You just told me you pretend to be somebody you’re not and I just told you I do the same. We are married in this.”
Her brow slowly softened as her gaze became fixated on his mouth. “You are safe with me. Even when I pretend. There is no persona that wouldn’t accept the real you. Wouldn’t adore the real you.” She lifted her head a little, going serious again. “Can you tell me? About the real you?”
“I thought I was,” he said, smiling, regarding the ties at her chest. He reached over and slid his fingers very slowly over her breast. Her arousal spiked with gasps and tiny moans. “You are the first woman I have ever used my ropes on like this.”
“Tell me,” she whispered. “Why do you love ropes so much? Wait,” she hurried. “You should know… that I was jealous of those too and that’s why I hid them. That person you call… Fyoo-rie, I don’t know if she’s me, the real me, but I think she is,” she said, worried. “She’s jealous of everything you like because she wants all of your affections. What kind of mother would this make me? Think of it!” she demanded when he couldn’t hold back his smile about it. “Jealous of inanimate objects, Neelo. That’s what unstable people do,” she assured heatedly. “And I wanted to hurt you back for not wanting me as much as I wanted you while knowing you had no idea who I even was because I was hiding it, lying about it and even still I was angry with you. I did want you to make me leave, divorce me, because I hated you for… stealing everything from me. Every bit of me, but most of all I hated you for loving the fake pieces I hid behind because I’m too weak and scared to even figure out who I am, to even care if she exists.”
“Fyoo-rie,” he whispered, kissing her trembling lips again, her confessions unravelling every knot she’d put in him. “I have a question for you.”
“What?” she barely peeped. “Did you know even the things I know belong to a pretend person? Some call it a gift to be able to recall facts but really, it’s not me recalling them at all, it’s another person I pretend to be because the real me is like the scarecrow on the Wizard of Oz and even the tin man and the lion. I have no brain, no heart, and no courage. I’m not even Dorothy because I don’t have a home to go back to because even they think I’m somebody I’m not.”
“Baby,” he croaked, kissing her as she sobbed out these pitiful confessions that shredded his soul. “I will be your home. And I will never allow you to leave because I share the same sick obsessions that you do.”
“You do?” she wept, her confusion tearing him to pieces.
“I’m far more jealous than you are.” A mountain of doubt sat on her pretty face as if that wasn’t possible. “For instance, I would like to fetch my knife and remove this disgusting dress that’s rubbing up against what only I should have and hiding what only I should see.” The sudden give in her worried expression had him ready to launch a full-blown freak-obsession tirade. “I’m jealous of things that would blow your mind.”
Her slow smile lit up his blood. “Like what?” she whispered, guarded and yet hopeful that anybody could possibly want her to any degree. To think his Fyoo-rie suffered such an abominable lie and existence was almost unbearable.
“I should start with everything you love that isn’t me. I don’t even want to name the blasphemous items but to avoid incurring my psychotic wrath, I will, I must.” Her big laugh made him smile as he leaned in closer to her face. “At the very top of the list would be books. ” He nodded with zero remorse at her shocked, gasping laugh. “The pages you finger, the spine that you caress, the plot that would dare capture your attention and especially the bastard author who wrote it.”
“That is so obsessed!” she cried, clearly thrilled. “What else?” she whispered, biting her smile.
“I’ll have to remove the pillows from the house because nothing gets to touch your pretty face all night but me. And you will have to go without bedsheets because I’ll be damned if something besides me wraps your beautiful body all night. And then there’s the problem of utensils.”
He chuckled at the big booming laugh she gave, so unladylike, so raw and real. “I’m the only thing that needs to be entering this furious little mouth.”
She leaned and kissed him, moaning and grunting to reach more. “Aren’t you jealous of these ropes? Biting into my skin? Shouldn’t you be the only one biting me and punishing me?”
“My ropes are an extension of me, Petite Fyoo-rie.” He slid his fingers over the ones across her chest, grazing her nipples. “Do you hate this part of me?”
She stared at him and nodded. “I do. Because it’s not you .”
“It is not me,” he assured, his heart raging in his chest at her words. “But it allows me to be me.”
“Then tie me with a million knots,” she whispered, again fighting to reach his mouth. “Just so you touch me. Everywhere. Always. I’m so very hungry, Neelo,” she gasped. “Hungry to feel you with my own fingers.”
Furious fuck .
He hurried off the bed and wrapped the ends of both ropes holding her legs around his fists then slowly lowered her.
Climbing back on the bed, he pulled her forward gently and released the box knot.
“Oh,” she gasped when he gently lowered her arms then rubbed her shoulders.
“Better?”
She looked up at him then at his chest. “I promise I’m not being a copycat but… I’m jealous of your clothes too.”
“Then you should remove them,” he said, his breaths already thick.
She made her way on her knees before him and reached for the first button of his black flannel.
He angled his head, stroking his fingers over her face. When he grazed her lip, she gasped and sucked his middle finger.
“Fuck,” he whispered, hunger exploding at the bold act and sight. He fucked her mouth, his cock now jealous of his finger. “So hungry, Fyoo-rie. And so slow,” he half-growled, yanking his shirt open. She returned her attention to the job and shoved the material open, her mouth descending like a ravenous firestorm. He speed-wrapped her ponytail in his fist and took control, pulling her mouth up to his while her hands continued on a rapid hunt for more food. She found his cock, her breaths shaking around her moans as he devoured that little tongue. “You want it?” he moaned when her fingers clawed at the denim. He barely got his pants over his ass when she fought to lower her mouth. He held the base of his cock, aiming the head up while holding her mouth inches away from it. “You want my cock baby?”
“Yes!”
“Sit.”
She gave a desperate cry and sat, fighting again to reach his cock with her open mouth.
Her hunger clashed against his grip on her ponytail as he guided her. His seething gasp erupted when she took as much as she could to the back of her throat and moaned her ecstasy through his shaft and balls while her nails clawed every fucking where they roamed. The combination of what she was doing to him, that she was so starved to do it, and the fucking erotic sounds she made had him already at orgasm. He yanked her head back by her ponytail, not wanting to come in her mouth for his first orgasm with her. He tugged her up, devouring her mouth as he lay her back on the bed, realizing immediately they were both still clothed.
“Undress,” he ordered, ripping his shirt all the way off and sitting to get out of the rest of his clothes.
When he turned, she sat on her calves, both arms covering her naked breasts a look of worry mixed with her raging desire. The combination woke dormant hungers in him as he pushed her onto her back and moved her arms. Her tight nipples brought a screaming lust in his ears as he lowered and unleashed his own hungers. Her fingers pulled in his hair as he sucked like a babe at her breasts, kissing every inch of them before taking hold of her hands and planting them above her head so he could control the madness consuming them.
“Neelo,” she gasped as he lay between her legs.
“Fyoo-rie,” he croaked, pushing her leg up and open. He placed his foot on the bed, keeping her spread wide while sliding the head of his cock slowly over every inch of his dripping heaven. She reached for more with little flicks of her hips, the sight driving him crazy.
“You’re making love to me , Neelo?” she panted.
Hearing her worry, he locked gazes with her for many seconds. “I’m making love to Ma Belle Fyoo-rie,” he said, bringing his mouth to hers. “To Ma Belle Bee-shjoo.” He stroked her face, wiping her tears.
“I’m… your jewel?”
“You’re my everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything I never knew I needed.”
“You are the same to me!” she cried. “You believe me, Fatey?”
He took hold of his cock and placed himself at her entrance. “With all that I am, Farkle.”