Page 246 of Reign

I remember that conversation. The way he watched me. The strange, heated awareness that existed between us before either of us admitted what it was.

“And you thought I was the inappropriate one when we ended up in the bathroom?”

“I never said I was appropriate.”

Fair.

Luciano stops in front of me and draws the rope slowly across my bare waist. The soft fibers leave a trail of heat in their wake.

“I like the way rope changes a body,” he says. “The contrast against skin. The patterns. The control it gives me over every position.”

“I want your arms bound behind you. I want you on your knees.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “And I want to use this.”

My pulse jumps.

“That’s what you want?”

“That’s where I want to begin.”

I look at the rope in his hand, then back at him.

“Do it.”

His eyes darken.

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Take off your clothes.”

I reach for the hem of my top without looking away from him. I pull it over my head and let it fall, then push the shorts and my panties down together.

Luciano watches everything.

This feels different from the other scenes. He isn’t choosing something because I circled it on a questionnaire or asked him to show me.

I asked for him.

This is his answer.

When I’m naked, he steps behind me and gathers my wrists at the base of my spine.

“Hands together.”

I press my palms against each other.

The first pass of rope circles my wrists, firm and deliberate. He pulls it tighter than I expect, and the sudden bite of it makes my breath catch.

He works slowly, creating even bands before moving higher along my forearms. Every few passes, his fingers slide beneath the rope, checking the pressure.

“Open and close your hands.”

I do.

“Anything numb?”

“No.”