“More. Please.”
A firm hand cups the back of my head, encouraging me to lift it. I open my eyes as Calvin strokes the end of a straw against my mouth. I put my lips around the straw and sip the cool water. I hadn’t realised my mouth had gone dry until that moment, but the water refreshes me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Gabe continues to create artwork out of knotted rope. Building onto the two bands that cross my torso, he creates a grid over my chest, with a diamond over my belly button.
When he passes the rope between my legs and makes a loop around my cock and balls, no amount of slow breathing or imagining myself walking naked into my high school form room can stop me from getting a hard-on.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t be.” Gabe cups my jaw in his hand, and I stare into his eyes. “You look stunning. Do you want me to stop?”
“No. Green. I’m good. I just didn’t know if…” My cheeks heat up.
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “Everything you’re doing is perfect.”
I’m not really doinganything.
“Cal’s going to take some photos now,” Gabe tells me. “And then I’ll untie you.”
I’m not sure where to look, so I stare into the camera for the first few shots. Then I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of the ropes against my skin as the camera flashes pop as they go off and whine as they recharge.
“You were wonderful,” Gabe says, his voice close and soft.
I don’t open my eyes. From the tugging, I can tell he’s unknotting the rope. He takes his time, and it’s almost as erotic as when he was tying me up in the first place. I don’t move, even after all the rope is gone.
Gently, he repositions my arms so they’re by my sides.
“How do they feel?” he asks.
“Fine.”
“No numbness?”
I frown. “Maybe a little.”
“Make a fist.”
I obey as he checks the strength in both my arms once again. Then he helps me sit on the floor while Cal fetches me a drink that’s a violent shade of orange.
“It’s a sports drink,” Cal says. “Full of electrolytes.”
I sip it gratefully through the straw he’s provided me with. It’s crazy sweet. My hands and arms tremble a little, so I give the glass back to Cal after I’ve drunk half of it.
“Can we stroke you?” Gabe asks
I like the sound of that. “Yes.”
Their hands lightly massage my arms, their touch warm and firm as they knead the feeling back into my limbs.
“My arms are better now,” I say as soon as they’re no longer numb. I’d like them to continue, but I know I have to be honest.
“How do you feel?” Gabe asks.
“Tired.” I dip my chin, embarrassed for some reason.
