“I like to be prepared.”

In the small studio, Amery chose a different backdrop and adjusted the umbrella lights. She rarely did portraits because she didn’t feel she had the artistic eye for it. But in this case only her back would be visible in the shot.

Ronin hadn’t returned by the time she was ready to take a few test shots. After removing her shirt, she hooked up the remote button to the camera on the tripod. Using a roll of masking tape, she marked off a spot, stood on it with her bare back to the camera, and snapped a pic. Then she returned behind the camera and scrolled to the digital image. Too close. She backed up the camera, stood on the X, and clicked off another shot.

Better. But the light glared off her shoulder blade. After adjusting the backlight, she threw a diffuser—just a piece of darker opaque fabric—over the top of the light. She found her mark on the X again.

Before she clicked the remote, Ronin said, “Arch your back and turn your head to the right instead of looking forward.”

“I don’t want anyone to see my face, remember?”

“Only your profile is visible and you can darken that after you get the shot.” When he closed in behind her, his body heat warmed her and his presence soothed her. He tugged the ponytail holder free, running his fingers through the long strands. “There. Now take it.”

Amery angled her head and pushed the button.

When she whirled around, she expected to see Ronin behind the camera checking out the shot, but he remained off to the side, letting her do her job.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “That is much better.” She tested a couple more, adjusting the zoom a fraction. After repositioning the tapes, she inhaled a deep breath, waiting for Ronin’s instruction.

Then he was behind her, that deliciously deep voice in her ear. “You ready for me to start tying you, beautiful?”

“Yes.”

He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. “Arms at your sides.”

Amery lowered her arms and closed her eyes.

She heard him behind her. The rustle of fabric as he removed his shirt and became Ronin the rope master.

His bare skin brushed hers as he swept her hair aside. Then he unhooked her bra and slid it off. He brushed a kiss between her br**sts as he unzipped her jeans, tugging them down her hips and to the floor. When she attempted to kick them free, he said, “No. Keeping them around your ankles will hold you in place.”

Just another way he chose to bind her.

His finger leisurely followed the lace edge of her panties hugging her lower curves. Then his lips thoroughly tracked her spine from the dimples above her ass to the nape of her neck.

Although her pulse raced and her blood seemed to pump hotter with anticipation, she focused on her breathing.

Ronin slipped rope over both of her shoulders. She felt a quick pull, and sections of rope brushed the inside of her arms as he secured the first knot. More rope slid up her wrists and over her elbows to cross her upper arms. Another tug, another caress on her skin beneath the knots. His soft, steady exhales drifted over her damp flesh.

Goose bumps spread just from the nearness of his mouth to her skin.

Callused hands were busy behind her, rarely jerky, never clumsy. At times the rope would swing across her calves, giving the impression of his fingers teasing her there, even when she felt his fingertips on her spine.

The more knots he added to the rope configuration, the closer her arms got to touching. This pattern didn’t restrict her breathing like some of the chest harnesses he’d crafted. Yet Amery found herself floating into that same headspace, where his fleeting touches set off little pulses beneath her skin.

He held her wrists and placed several thick loops in the center of the rope that kept her wrists from touching.

Amery knew when Ronin finished. He stepped back to scrutinize his creation, much like an artist. Then he’d make minute adjustments to the ropes. Sometimes he’d circle her, looking from all angles. But this time he stayed behind her.

And his voice was so perfectly modulated it never abruptly brought her out of that trancelike state when he spoke. “Amery.”

She didn’t have to answer him; he just needed to know he had her attention. She barely moved her head in acknowledgment.

“You are stunning bound in red. I’m grateful you’ll get a chance to see the pure beauty that shines through you.” Then Ronin’s hands were on her once again, circling her hips as he snugged his body in behind hers.

“Stay in this heightened state and tell me what I need to do to capture the picture.”

Amery fought against the pull that would yank her out of blissful nothingness. “The remote button is attached to the camera. Press it when you have the shot you want.”

There was movement behind her and Amery managed to stay still.

He adjusted her arms higher. “Hold like that.”

The shutter made a whirring click. Then another. And another. So many she lost count.

Ronin didn’t suggest she change poses. She understood his gaze wasn’t behind the lens, but entirely on her.

“Will you let me try something?” he asked. “I won’t move you, I promise.”

“Yes.”

“Stay still no matter what I do to you.”

That meant he planned to touch her.

Stretching out the anticipation was Ronin’s specialty. He’d never kept her hanging on the jagged edge for long. Yet knowing he could keep her there indefinitely, that she had no control in how or when he chose to send her soaring into pleasure, added another layer to their play.