Rain tapped at the windows as thunder rolled far off in the distance. Inside the loft, the world had already narrowed to three people, one coil of rope, and a silence thick with anticipation.
Nico stood shirtless at the foot of the bed, unwinding the long black rope like a ritual. Every movement was intentional. Slow. Charged. Across from him, Rae leaned against the headboard, already bare, legs folded under her, watching with parted lips. And between them, Sienna waited—naked but for the collar she only wore on nights like this.
The air hummed.
“You trust me?” Nico asked her, voice low but firm.
Sienna nodded.
“Say it.”
“I trust you,” she whispered. Her voice cracked with tension. The good kind.
He stepped forward and lifted her wrists above her head, tying them together with practiced ease. The rope whispered against her skin—rough and warm, tugging her into stillness. He looped it over a hook above the bed, not to suspend her, just enough to keep her arms pulled high, her chest exposed, her breath short.
She looked radiant in restraint.
Rae slid off the bed and came around behind her, fingertips skating across Sienna’s ribs. She kissed her shoulder, then her spine, then her hip. Sienna shivered.
Nico’s hand curled around her throat—not hard, just enough to hold her in place as Rae knelt and began to taste her.
Sienna moaned, body straining, thighs shaking. The rope held her still.
Nico watched for a moment—admiring, controlling, protective. Then he stepped forward and claimed her mouth in a kiss that was all hunger and possession. He tugged gently at the rope as he kissed her, and she gasped into him, the tension pulling her body taut.
Every nerve was lit.
Rae’s tongue moved slower now, teasing, patient. She knew how to keep Sienna just on the edge, trembling, desperate, whispering please without ever saying it.
And then Nico’s fingers slipped between her legs too—wet, eager, welcomed—and the pressure doubled. Sienna arched, cried out, thighs clenching around Rae’s head. But the rope kept her from escaping the pleasure. It demanded she take it. All of it.
When she finally came, it tore through her—loud, sharp, devastating. Rae held her, Nico kissed her through it, and even when she sagged in the ropes, they didn’t let go.
They kissed her skin. Whispered her name.
And slowly, carefully, Nico began to untie her, murmuring:
“You did so well.”
The ropes fell away like petals.
Rae pulled her into her lap, arms wrapped tight around her. Nico laid down behind them, one arm draped over both. Bodies knotted together now, no rope needed.
Only breath. Only warmth.
Only love.