Free Playing Knotty by Elia Winters Page A

second half of class?”
    She cocked her head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?”
    Leaning close, Ian whispered to her, his cheek brushing hers, “Because you’re so turned on right now that you’re ready to scream.”
    Emma stepped back from him, her face burning with shame and indignation. How dare he? She opened and closed her mouth twice, searching for words, before finally managing, “Excuse me?” Even though she wanted to shout at him, she remembered the others in the room and kept her voice barely above a whisper. The room felt too hot, her clothing too tight, Ian’s body too close, pressing all along her side. She wanted to pull away from him and simultaneously to push closer.
    He seemed to know everything she was thinking, reaching a finger out to tuck her hair behind her ear, and his touch sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine. “Don’t play games.” Looking directly into Ian’s eyes, Emma willed herself not to blush as he continued, his voice quiet enough that they wouldn’t be overheard. “I’ve been doing this a long time, Emma. You might not think you’re into this, but believe me. You’re into it.” His hand moved to the small of her back, holding her against him, and the proximity made her heart flutter. “If we didn’t have a class to finish right now, I’d have a lot more to say to you.” He licked his lips unconsciously, looking at her mouth, and Emma felt a sudden desire to find out the taste of his kiss. Before she could do more than think, though, Ian stepped back.
    â€œAll right, folks, come on back.” He was all smiles again, professional in his environment, and Emma was left boneless and unsettled and fucking soaked. She put her half-empty water bottle on her desk and joined the group on unsteady feet.

    I f he didn’t get on with the workshop right then, Ian knew he was going to kiss Emma. Fuck, he needed to focus; it was only through sheer force of will that he was keeping an erection at bay. The way she looked at him, all big brown eyes and soft, full lips, was driving him to distraction. He patted the swivel stool next to him and gestured for Emma to sit. She did so cautiously, casting a look up at him before facing the group.
    â€œI want to show you a harness tie, which is one of my favorites. We’re having Emma sit here so that I can turn her around and let you see the front and back.” His guests pulled their chairs closer, angling themselves to observe.
    He chose the longest coil of rope, the only one left on the floor. “You’ll want your longest rope for this. This tie only works if your bottom has breasts. If they don’t, I’ll show you a variation once I finish.” He looked down at Emma. “Emma, I’ll have you hold your arms behind your back, forearms parallel, reaching for your opposite elbows. That’s called a box position.”
    Emma, bless her, did exactly as he requested, the position making her back arch and her considerable breasts strain even more against the fabric of her amazingly snug shirt. He narrated the steps of the tie as he did them, first dividing the long rope in half, then wrapping it around her torso, right beneath her breasts. He itched to touch them, cup them in his hands and feel their softness for himself, but he kept his touch professional and began snugging up the loop with reverse tension. With the next loop around her torso, he included her upper arms, wrapping the rope above her breasts before returning to tie another row below. Emma remained still, her body rigid beneath his touch; if he couldn’t read her body, he would have sworn she was uncomfortable. He’d thought that when he began tying her up. She’d been breathing heavily, pulse fluttering beneath his fingers as he wrapped her wrists, and he had almost stopped. But then she’d closed her eyes, her lips parting a bit, and he had