BindingCherryBlossoms (4 page)

“Take me in your hands
, keisei
. Show me how fast you
can make me come.” She complied readily, her hands grasping him so tightly he
nearly cried out at her touch. But he liked it rough. He liked the pain, needed
to see if her appetite was as decadent as his.

And his desire was already spinning out of his control. He
wrapped his hands absently in her hair as she sucked him, twisting and tying it
into intricate patterns as he tried to keep from coming too soon. But the slick
of her spit along his length made keeping control a study in futility.

She licked and bit and stroked him with abandon. His hips bucked
and his knees shook as he felt the orgasm nearing its peak, and each groan of
hunger that slipped from his throat goaded her into harder action.

All too soon Ian felt his balls clench as he trembled on the
edge. “Stop now,” he ordered, trying to pull her mouth away, “if you do not
want me to come down your throat.”

But Sakura shook her head, her eyes looking up into his with
such complete acceptance he rammed himself as far down her throat as he could,
gritting his teeth to keep from begging her not to stop as the orgasm rolled up
from his toes. He closed his eyes against the pleasure as his body tensed and
he came in a rush of sweat and seed, his cock jerking over and over as Sakura
continued to suck his flesh, milking him for every exquisite ounce of climax.

When it was over, he pulled her head against his stomach,
unable to speak, barely able to breathe, her hair like a waterfall of silk
against his skin.

“Well done,
keisei
,” he praised when he could finally
manage to mouth the words. “Well done, indeed. Now we can get down to proper
business.”

It wasn’t until he stepped away and knelt again on the mat
beside her that Sakura realized the form his punishment would take. She
hungered in ways she didn’t know existed, her body aroused to a point of pain
she hadn’t known was even possible. She wanted him to touch her—needed him to
touch her, take her, fuck her, break her…anything to ease the desire that
burned so deep inside her she swore she would die if he did not give her some
relief.

But he sat sated and calm beside her, the expression on his
face telling her he knew how desperately she needed to come…and that he had no
intention of giving her that pleasure any time in the near future.

To take her mind off her body’s distress Sakura studied his
hands. Fire hands, her mother would have called them, broad palms that tapered
to supple, lean fingers. When she remembered those fingers thrusting deep into
her body, she realized she needed a different distraction, so she put all her
effort into concentrating on the Tea Ceremony.

He took a cloth napkin and folded it in a fan shape before
turning the pointed ends back upon themselves. He set it on the mat and placed
a bowl before him, picked the napkin up once more and slowly turned the bowl,
running the napkin around the edge. Then he took the top off the kettle and
used the bamboo ladle to pour hot water into the bowl before using a bamboo
whisk to swirl the water and clean it before disposing of the used water in a
different pot. There was not a single thing hurried or careless in his
movements as he scooped powdered tea into the bowl and added another ladle of
hot water before he whisked it into the proper consistency.

“Take the tea in both hands,” he said, handing her the bowl.
“Then you will take two or three sips before passing it back to me. In a true
ceremony you would pass the bowl on to the next guest so they could share the
tea.”

Sakura brought the bowl to her lips and took a tentative
sip. It was terrible. Bitter and much too strong. “Ugh.” She tried to hide the
sound of disgust, hoping he would not take offense.

“It is an acquired taste,” he admitted, “but you will
refrain from any negative expression or comment unless you wish to bring
disgrace to your family and their honored guests. Now take another sip.” He
placed his hands over hers on the bowl and lifted it to her mouth.

She drank as he told her to, the tea taking on an entirely
new flavor as her body reacted to his touch. Desire flooded her senses,
blocking out all other input.

Despite her best intention, she wiggled to ease the pressure
between her thighs, then froze when she saw his mouth turn down.

“Take off your dress. Do you still not understand my rules?”
he demanded when she hesitated. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.
“Take. Off. Your. Dress.”

Sakura reached behind her back to pull down the zipper but
her legs had grown numb from sitting on the floor and she stumbled, crying out
when his hand clamped hard around her arm to steady her. Some of her anxiety
must have shown on her face because he lessened his grip immediately.

He sighed and ran his fingers down her cheek. “You have no
need to fear me. As your
Bakushi
it is my job to keep you safe. See that
you are never harmed—no matter that I would love to wring your beautiful neck
on occasion. But I will be obeyed. And for that you must trust me.”

“If I don’t?” She backed a step away, refusing his offer of
support.

“Then leave. The door is open. It always has been.” He let
his hands fall to his sides. “The choice is yours.”

“What if I stay?” The thought of never seeing him again was
more of a sacrifice than she was willing to make. But she needed some
assurances that he had her best interests at heart. “Don’t I get a safe word or
something?”

He muttered a curse beneath his breath. “Forgive me,
keisei
.
I should have thought of that before.”

“Are you admitting you made a mistake?” She couldn’t wait to
hear his answer.

“Yes,” he stated simply. “I was too focused on my own
gratification. It will not happen again.”

“But you still intend to tie me up?”

“I offer you the chance to experience something completely
out of your comfort zone. Why can’t you accept my offer for what it is without
trying to put your own definition on the process? How do you feel now? Are you excited?
Are you aroused? Or have your defenses robbed you of those feelings?” He took a
step toward her, his voice losing its rational tone and dropping back into its
usual state of seduction. “Wouldn’t you rather ache with desire for me?”

Yes. She desperately wanted to be able to release her
inhibitions and let him have his way with her. If the sound of his voice alone
was enough to make her tremble, a full lovemaking session would surely blow her
mind. And since he’d begun to woo her once more she’d started to respond in
kind, her need returning in full and major force.

“How did you do that?”

“What?” He circled behind her, stalking his prey.

“Make me want you enough to stay?”

“Because I want you enough to demand it. You questioned me
once about balance. Are you beginning to understand? And do you think I am
stupid enough not to offer you the same pleasure that you gave me so freely
before?”

Her cheeks grew so hot she swore her mask would melt in
place, leaving her faceless forever. She had already seen him naked, sucked his
cock in her mouth and swallowed when he came. It didn’t get more intimate than
that. If she was going to wallow in embarrassment, shouldn’t she at least wait
until tomorrow…after he’d given her the pleasure he’d promised?

“What’s my safe word?” Her fingers had already closed around
the zipper of her dress. She slid it down and the dress fell to the floor at
her feet.

“Cherry,” he said without hesitation as if he’d already
thought of it long before. “I’d prefer cherry blossoms, but that is much too
long to say if you are truly in distress.

Cherry blossoms. The meaning of her name.
He’d
mentioned the blooms before but she’d shrugged it off as coincidence. She
didn’t think she could do it so readily now. But then again the flowers were an
integral part of their cultural heritage, and she couldn’t think of a ready
reason she could not use the word.

“Cherry,” she repeated. “Perfect.”

“Yes. It is. And so are you.”

He had moved to stand behind her and he slid his hands up
the length of her back, stroking her skin until she felt it prickle, her
nipples beading as goose bumps rose all along her flesh. She heard his swift
intake of breath as he cupped her breasts in his hands and rubbed her nipples
between his fingers. The tingle swept down her stomach to lodge between her
legs, sharp and strong and sweet.

She did not protest as he led her to the bed, pushing her
down on a stack of pillows. She looked up, startled to see herself reflected in
a mirror on the ceiling, not having noticed it before. It didn’t surprise her
that he would want to work beneath the reflective surface so they both could
see and admire his art, but it was odd seeing her reflection, her mask hiding
her features so well it was like looking at another woman entirely. And it
became surreal when her
Bakushi
began his work.

She didn’t move a muscle when he retrieved a length of
dark-purple rope, clenching her jaw to keep from asking another stupid
question. Observe, he had told her. Watch and experience the stillness. Okay.
She would do just exactly as he suggested and see which one of them was right.

But it was hard to hold still when he was leaning over her,
his chest rubbing against hers as he manipulated the rope around her breasts.
And it was even harder not to make a sound when he flicked a nipple beneath his
thumb, keeping her aroused and on edge as he placed her hands behind her back
and tied them close together.

Now her chest jutted out and her breasts were plumped to
twice their normal size. It was better than a push-up bra, she decided in
delight as she saw the result in the mirror overhead. The color of the rope
blended perfectly with the strands of purple in her hair, which he spread out
across her shoulders and smoothed around her neck like a scarf.

He could have been a fashion designer, she thought in
admiration, beginning to understand his fascination with
kinbaku
. For
him it was about the art, the craft, the creation. The ability to take
something as ordinary as a woman and a rope and meld them into something of far
greater beauty than the sum of their separate parts.

And she began to understand why a woman might crave to be
sculpted by an artist’s hands, seeing a beauty in herself she’d never before
envisioned.

Her musings were cut short when he sat back to survey his
work, reaching out to take both nipples, pinching and rolling them between his
fingers until they swelled and turned nearly the same rosy tint as the cherry
blossoms in her mask.

Sakura writhed against her bonds, unable to move, even when
he bent his head to take one ultra-sensitive peak into his mouth. He sucked
eagerly, scraping his teeth across its tip, uncaring that Sakura writhed and
wiggled and gasped beneath him.

“D-don’t stop,” she begged when at last he pulled his mouth
away. Her plea ended with a moan when he switched his attention to her other
breast, giving it the same rough treatment.

“Perfect,” he said when at last he pulled away. “Like two
juicy plums ready to be plucked.”

Before she could form a reply, he had already set his sights
on new lands to conquer. Taking hold of the rope once more, he wound it around
her waist, between her legs and even into the crack between her butt cheeks
before twisting it in a figure eight fashion around her hips. Every successive
tug and shift of the rope tortured her clit into a frenzy of arousal while it
worked its way deeper into the folds of her sex and slithered across the tiny
opening of her ass.

The smell of her arousal rose to hang heavy in the room, but
Sakura was too far gone to be embarrassed by the musky scent, especially when
she caught sight of his erection, his cock a swollen mass of flesh jutting up
once more against his stomach.

“Take me,” she begged, her voice unsteady. “P-please,
Bakushi
,
I need to feel you.”

“Hush,
keisei
,” he told her, placing his hand over
her mouth. “Don’t lose your concentration by speaking. I will give you all you
desire.”

He reached beneath a pillow and retrieved a box she had not
noticed before. She watched in an agony of desperation as he opened the lid and
placed the objects on the bed. If she thought she’d been even remotely excited
before, she was sadly mistaken as she studied the array of polished glass toys.
They ranged in length and circumference. One was long and slender, another
short and wide. One was swirled all the way to the tip, another was etched and
knobbed all around. But all of them were beautiful.

And intimidating.

Sakura struggled despite herself as her
Bakushi
picked one up and twirled it over her stomach, but she was held completely
immobile by the rope and couldn’t escape as he ran the glass rod between her
legs and nudged it into the opening of her cunt. He slid it deeper as she
wiggled again, the thick knot of the rope rubbing hard against her clit. And
even higher when she cried out in hunger, slipping it in and out of her body
while she struggled to maintain control.

And the entire time he watched her face, his eyes boring
into hers from behind the mask, gauging her reaction, measuring her response.

“More?” he asked, speeding up his strokes. “Or maybe I
should introduce you to
anaru
—the art of anal play. You have your safe
word if you need it,” he added calmly, moving the rope aside as he worked the
rod back toward the pucker of her ass.

“I don’t…I mean I’ve never—” Sakura tried to protest as he
rubbed the tip of the rod around the tiny opening, tensing tight against the
invasion.

“Breathe,” he ordered, twisting her clit between his fingers
until the pleasure took over and made her weak. “I promise not to hurt
you—much,” he added with a smirk that went way beyond licentious.

He was enjoying her trepidation, the bastard. But so was
she, she realized a heartbeat later. Already her ass had begun to throb in expectation,
new sensations rising to torment her further. She was so wet the moisture slid
between her cheeks and he used it to lubricate the rod before he nudged it
through the ring of muscle.

When Sakura bucked, he held her down, continuing to snug the
rod into her ass, the sting enough to make her scream. It was too intrusive,
too demanding, and she could not like it, would not like it…until he bent and
pulled her clit into his mouth, sucking the knot of flesh until she forgot the
pain enough to relax. Then he drove the rod higher into her ass, spiraling it
in and out until it felt so good she was pushing back, giving him permission to
take her even deeper.

And his mouth on her clit was more than she could take as
the orgasm stole over her senses. He did not try to stop her as she came to a
shuddering release that seemed to last forever.

But he continued to thrust his tongue against her clit, not
giving her a moment of rest until the pressure began to build again.

“You will wait for me this time,” he ordered, reaching to
snag a condom and roll it over his cock. He tapped the glass rod in her ass as
he bore down on top of her, driving his cock into her cunt as he slid his
tongue into her mouth.

He rode her hard and long and fast, the knot of rope rasping
against her clit with every masterful thrust of his hips, and despite the bonds
that held her imprisoned, Sakura reveled in the power of her ability to please
him.