Page 247 of Reign

He continues.

The rope travels higher, securing my arms against my back before another length passes around my ribs. Red lines cross my skin in a deliberate pattern, framing my breasts and holding my body in the exact position he chooses.

I finally understand what he meant about the rope changing a body.

I’m still myself, but arranged by him.

My shoulders are drawn back. My breasts lifted. My arms held uselessly behind me. Every small movement reminds me that I can’t reach for him or protect myself from whatever he decides to do next.

The helplessness should frighten me.

Instead, heat gathers between my thighs.

Maybe because I asked for this.

Maybe because Luciano is the one doing it.

Probably both.

When he finishes, his hands move slowly over the ropes, testing every line, dragging his palms across the red patterns that now frame my breasts and dig into my skin.

He comes around to face me. His gaze drags from the rope down my body and back up, dark and hungry.

“That,” he says quietly, voice rough, “is even better than I imagined. Look at you.”

My cheeks warm. “You’ve apparently had plenty of time to imagine it.”

“I have.”

He cups my chin in his hand.

“On your knees.”

I start lowering myself, but without my arms my balance shifts. Luciano catches my elbows and guides me down until my knees hit the mat.

He steps between them, forcing my thighs wider around his legs. One of his hands settles on top of my head, tilting my face up so I’m forced to look at the thick outline of his cock straining against his pants.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “You’re a dream on your knees with your arms tied and your mouth waiting. Exactly how I’ve wanted you.”

The praise moves through me, warm and heavy.

Luciano’s fingers slide beneath my chin, tipping my face upward.

His thumb moves over my lower lip.

“This mouth,” he breathes.

“You love my mouth,” I remind him.

“I do.”

“Even when I’m arguing with you?”

His thumb slides deeper, resting on my tongue. “Especially when you’re arguing with me. Makes me want to fuck the attitude right out of it.”

My stomach flutters.

His thumb presses on my tongue. “Perfectly sharp tongue you use to question me, challenge me, and tell me exactly what you think.”