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He rubs his jaw and nods. “All right,” he finally says, as if having a mental negotiation with himself. “Take off your clothes and stand over there and wait for me.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but then he turns away, his attention already jumping to the next thing. So I pull off my shirt and start to undress. Roman returns holding a bundle of rope just as my balled-up sock flies across his face. It lands nowhere near any of the other discarded pieces of clothing that now lay scattered around the room.

He lifts a brow as he takes in the explosion of clothing and shakes his head.

“What?” I shrug. “You told me to get naked.”

“Fucking brat,” he huffs under his breath, but when he looks back at me, his eyes are molten hot, filled with intensity, and I feel a chill run up my spine.

Rope looped over his arm, he stalks toward me, spins me by the shoulders, turning me away from him before giving my ass a sharp smack. The sting blooms over my skin, stealing my breath, and I feel myself begin to drift into that hazy, weightless state, where the rest of the world fades away.

His fingers move with deliberate care as he gathers my hair and begins weaving it into a braid that falls down my back. Then he slips a hair tie from his wrist and secures the end, the gesture feeling unexpectedly intimate.

“I know I covered this in the contract, but I know how well you pay attention to the details, so I want to be sure to cover the bases.” He spins me around to face him and tilts my chin up to meet his eyes.

His deep brown eyes seem to scan me, like he’s reading every micro-expression I make. The way he’s so in tune with me only makes me trust him more.

“I’m going to tie you up with this rope.” He holds the rope in front of me. “If at any point you feel pain, numbness, or tingling, I want you to let me know immediately. Do you understand?”

Wow, he’s really serious about this stuff. I have half the mind to tease him about it but think better of it. Something tells me he’s not in the mood for my jokes. So instead, I just nod. “I understand.”

“Good.” He lets out a deep breath like he’s relieved and starts loosening the rope. “What’s your safe word?”

“Red if I want you to stop. Yellow if I want to pause or slow down,” I say, a hint of sass in my tone.

“Good girl,” he says with a wink, then drops to his knees and begins wrapping the ropes around my legs.

The rough rope brushes against my skin as he loops it around my legs. Somehow, the restriction feels unexpectedly comforting, reminding me of the first time he tied me up on stage. A flicker of anticipation moves through me, and pressure builds between my thighs.

“So…do you tie up all your…” I bite my lip, trying to think of the word. “Hookups like this. Or am I special?”

He grunts something under his breath as he pulls the rope tighter. “You’re special, all right.” But I hear the hint of humor in his voice. “I used to…but I’ve sort of taken a break from it.”

“Why is that?”

He sits back on his heels and studies me for a moment like he’s trying to figure out how much he wants to reveal. “Let’s just say, there’s a certain level of trust involved in rope play. And I haven’t been in a place to let myself get close enough to someone to build it.”

So few words, yet so much spoken between them.

A tingle of heat shoots between my legs as he loops the rope around my chest, his knuckles grazing the underside of my breast with every pass.

“But you are now?” The question leaves my lips before I can stop it.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. “It appears that way.” His eyes flick up to mine as he tightens the rope. “That okay?”

“Yes.”

My eyes roam over him as he meticulously winds the rope across my chest, leaving my breasts exposed, and it’s like I’m looking inside his psyche, seeing the inner workings of his mind and how it makes him tick.

I have so many more questions, but he doesn’t seem like he’s in the mood for any more prodding. He’s locked in on the art he’s creating and lost in the moment.

He finishes the bind, looping the rope around my arms and securing them to the side of my legs, then stands back to admire his work.

My legs are bound to my thighs, similarly to the bind he did during the community theater performance, but this time, he added a harness-like hold around my ass where it all connects.

Knowing I can’t move, that I can’t escape, that I’m completely at Roman’s mercy, has heightened every one of my senses. My body is buzzing with my growing desire, and the way that he’s looking at me right now has me feeling sexy, beautiful, and confident all at once.

He takes the end of the rope and loops it through the hook attached to the ceiling, giving it a few test pulls. And then I feel myself being lifted into the air, my weight distributed between my hips and my legs.