Page 103 of Seek Me Darling

“Careful,” I murmur, smirking. “Start tying me up too pretty and I might start thinking you’re in love.”

“I am,” Rule says softly, and fuck him for saying it like a damn fact.

His fingers tighten the first knot. Firm. Sure. My wrists are locked behind me, but I don’t feel caged. I feel… present. Focused. Hyper-aware of every place the rope touches, of the way he works me like a canvas he’s been dying to paint.

He moves higher, looping up my arms and then across my shoulders and chest, sculpting the rope over my breasts with the kind of attention that should be illegal. The rope presses in—snug, never harsh. It forces me to stand taller. Straighter. Like my body isn’t mine anymore, but some rare fucking artifact he’s decided to display.

“You’re doing beautifully,” Rule murmurs, his voice like velvet. “I knew you would.”

The praise slips over my skin like a warm palm, low and smooth and maddeningly effective. My breath hitches—just once. It’s not fear. It’s the heat uncoiling slow and thick inside me, pooling lower with every pass of that rope, every brush of his knuckles against bare skin as he pulls, tugs, knots.

He loops again around the swell of my breasts, binding them tight enough to make them sit high and proud, the rope sinking into the soft flesh. A soft gasp escapes before I can swallow it. I tilt my chin higher in response, pretending like the way my nipples harden under the ropes isn’t a betrayal.

He notices.

Of course he does.

Rule slides his hand between the tensioned ropes and my chest, his fingers brushing just beneath one aching peak, barely grazing it—just enough to make me tremble. Enough to make my thighs twitch together.

“You’re so responsive,” he says softly, reverently, like I’m some finely-tuned instrument he’s tuning by touch alone. “It’s beautiful.”

Behind him, Ruin is watching everything like he’s fucking starving. I glance toward him and see him sprawled in the armchair, one gloved hand casually wrapped around the thick length of his cock. He strokes slowly, like he’s savoring the tension between us as much as I am.

The sight shoots a bolt of heat straight through me.

Possessive, obsessive, unrelenting bastard—and even though I can’t see his face the way he looks at me, it makes me feel like I’m prey and sanctuary and everything he’s ever wanted. Makes my knees threaten to buckle.

Rule keeps working. The rope moves down my torso in elegant, winding paths. It coils under my ribs, frames the curve of my waist, crosses and winds its way across my stomach in a lattice of firm touches. Every knot feels like a kiss. Every tug, a command.

My breathing has gone shallow. Not panicked—aroused. Hyperaware. The rope is like a second skin now. One that hugs all the parts of me most men are too afraid to even look at directly.

“You feel that?” Rule asks quietly, looping a fresh strand between my thighs.

I nod once, lips parted as the pressure builds where I’m already wet and throbbing. The rope presses against the lips of my pussy, tight and teasing, brushing the aching spot that’s been throbbing for attention since the moment his voice saidI’ll take that as consent.

“Good girl,” he says, tightening the tension with one practiced pull.

Fuck. That praise again.

It shouldn’t work. It shouldn’tdoanything. But I can’t lie to myself anymore—not with the way my body clenches when he says it. Not with the way I’m practically grinding on the rope now, thighs flexing involuntarily just to feel more.

I steal another glance at Ruin. His hand moves a little faster. He’s just watching. Possessing. His whole body like a shadow carved into the chair.

I want him to touch me. I want him tojointhis. Toruinme while Rule builds me into art.

“I’m going to finish binding your thighs next, then we’re going to put that sharp little tongue to better use,” Rule murmurs, voice silk-wrapped steel as he tightens the rope between my thighs just enough to make me shiver. “You’re going to get on your knees and choke on both our cocks—until your throat’s as wrecked as your cunt’s about to be.”

God, the way he says it—like a promise, like a threat. Like he’s already halfway down my throat.

My breath stutters and I swear I feel Ruin’s hot gaze from the chair like a physical touch. I don’t need to look to know he’s stroking himself harder now.

Rule’s hands trail over the rope framing my hips, sliding between my legs, fingers brushing my entrance where I’m already soaked. I gasp, muscles twitching, hips trying to roll, but the bindings hold me in place—perfect, inescapable tension.

“You feel that?” he whispers, dragging his fingers slowly through the wetness. “That’s from us. From being watched. From being tied. From knowing exactly what we’re about to do to you.”

He stands and leans in closer, his mask brushing my jaw and his breath hot against my ear.

“We’re going to fuck you together, Seanna,” he growls. “And you’re going to take everything we give you. Every inch. Every brutal thrust. Every fucking drop. Until your pussy is so wrecked and full, you can’t tell whose cum is leaking out of you.”

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