Page 13 of Ctrl Me
Wait. “What?”
“Do I need to repeat myself already?”
Oh.Oh. Shit. “No.” I moved and did as he’d asked.
“Plate. Table setting. On the dining table, please.”
Singular? I nearly asked, but the sly look Gabe gave me . . . He was counting missteps. Both a trap and a test of how well was I listening. I pulled one plate and one set of silverware and one glass too. Arranged them at the table.
He ran a hand down my spine. “Strip.”
I froze. Now? Before dinner? “Bu—”
“Two.” Then he fucking grinned.
I peeled my shirt over my head while kicking my shoes off. The rest of my clothes followed. I pushed the pile over by the couch.
“Oh,” Gabe breathed. It was almost a sigh of pleasure. “Shit, that was worth the wait.”
My cock stood out from my body and a nice flush was now working its way up my torso to my neck. He touched my chest with his fingertips and ran them over my abs. Not exactly a ripped six-pack, but I was in decent enough shape. I sucked in a breath as he slid near my ticklish spot on the left, then trembled when he hit it. He paused.
“Don’t move.” Then he stroked my skin again in the same spot, lighter this time. My brain nearly exploded trying not to dance away from him. I whimpered through my teeth. God, my cock ached so fucking much already and he hadn’t even touched it.
“That’s going to come in handy,” he said. “Especially later.”
Fuck. I had a feeling I knew what “later” meant, and I couldn’t breathe. Hell, I could barely feel the carpet beneath my feet. I was pretty much flying already.
Felt sogood. Like summer wind in my hair.Shit. Hair. I nearly reached for the elastic. Stopped myself.
Must have flinched because Gabe crossed his arms. “Yes?”
“I forgot about the band in my hair.”
“Yes, you did.” His grin sent chills from the base of my skull to my feet. “Too late now.”
This. God. I had missed this. The headspace. The delicious burn of not knowing what was coming, but trusting—trusting—that I would enjoy every second of it.
Gabe pulled out one of the dining table chairs . . . not the one in front of the plate. “Sit. Arms on the rests.”
I groaned when my warm ass hit the cold wood. Not from the shock, but because I knew what was coming. They really were very solid chairs, after all.
Sure enough, Gabe fetched the duffle he’d brought in. He knelt down, then looked up with his bright-blue eyes. “Do you trust me, Thomas?”
“I do.”
Gabe sucked in a bit of air and watched me for a moment, his lips parted. I’d startled him somehow. The grin returned, and he reached into the duffle. The bundle of rope he pulled out was the same color as the one in the glove box—pale blue. He tugged at one piece and the whole length unraveled, along with every one of my nerves.
Gabe ran the rope through his hands until he found the midpoint, then walked behind me. The heat of his body radiated through the slats of the chair back. When he wrapped the rope around my chest, his scent, musk with traces of pine, overpowered the smell of dinner. He kissed the top of my head, then the rope tightened, and my pulse pounded in my ears. Pinpricks raced down my limbs as one loop, then another, and another forced me back against the chair. In the end, five loops of rope from my armpits to my hips held me firmly to the chair. But my head was free.
Gabe hummed as he worked, tying my hips next, then my legs. Every inch of skin felt like Gabe had set it on fire. My nerves jangled with his touch. He had stroked every part of me except for my cock and balls. Those, somehow, he managed not to touch. Even by accident.
Lastly, he bound my arms to the rests.
He stepped back. I couldn’t move. Oh, I tried, almost out of habit. But nothing happened. My nose itched, but tight bands held my arms to wood. Glorious. Horrifying. My heart pounded in my chest. Completely bound. Before me stood Gabe, just watching me. I shuddered against the rope.
This wasn’t anything like the games I’d played with my lovers in bed. With cuffs and scarves, I could still move my elbows, raise myself, and twist my legs a bit. Even when I’d been bound to the cross while whipped and caned, that had been was less restrictive than this. I flexed against the ropes and groaned. Exhilarating. I’d never been so fucking hard in my life. I’d also never been so exposed and helpless. My imagining being bound so carefully was very different from the real thing. I wanted to stop fighting, but couldn’t.
Gabe stepped forward and stroked my cheek. “You okay?”
