Three some

Completely bound

Zoe's lips parted. She reached up with one hand — the one not yet bound — and touched his cheek. Her thumb brushed his stubble, the scar through his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth. Then she pressed her palm over his lips. A silence. A seal. Her eyes held his, and the smile she gave him was small and private and sharp enough to cut.

Ryan's eyes widened — just a fraction. Then he laughed against her palm, the sound muffled. He caught her wrist and pulled her hand away. "You're dangerous," he said. "Aren't you."

Behind her, Lucas finished the last knot at her hip. He ran his hand over the rope, checking the tension. "Roll her."

Ryan helped turn her onto her back. Her legs were bound together from ankle to thigh, the rope a dark lattice against her skin. Lucas took her wrists and crossed them over her stomach, then began wrapping rope around them — not tight enough to cut off circulation, but tight enough that she couldn't pull free. He finished with a knot between her forearms, the remaining rope trailing across her stomach.

They both stood back. Zoe lay on the bed, bound from wrist to ankle, the ropes gleaming against her olive skin. Her wet hair pooled around her head. Her eyes tracked between the two of them, calm and watchful.

Lucas reached down and adjusted the rope around her thighs, pulling it a fraction tighter. "Legs next," he said, his voice matter-of-fact. "Once I'm sure you can't close them."

His hand slid up her inner thigh, his fingers pressing into the rope, into her flesh. He didn't stop at her cunt — he cupped her, his palm covering the wet heat of her, his thumb pressing against her c**t. She bucked, the barest movement, her breath catching in her chest.

"Already wet again," he said, looking at Ryan. "She's ready."

Ryan moved to the head of the bed. He stood over her, his c**k beginning to harden as he looked down at her bound body. He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, parting her mouth. "Open."

She opened. Her tongue brushed his thumb, tasted her own salt.

Lucas's hand left her cunt. He picked up the trailing end of rope at her stomach and looped it around the headboard — once, twice, a third time — then pulled. The rope drew her arms above her head, stretching them out until her bound wrists were pinned against the wooden slats. She was anchored now. Legs together, arms overhead, her body a taught line between two points.