Jiro's lineage once proudly served the nobility as samurai: protectors of royalty with a legacy of sword and rope. But though rich in tradition, in the modern age the family is penniless. And after cataclysmic events, Jiro has lost everything, including everyone he ever cared about and maybe even his mind. He is kept in a hospital amnesia ward, catatonic and unspeaking until a charity visit from the Crown Princess rouses him miraculously.
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Ami is the sole heir of the Emperor, fresh out of Harvard and looking to both sow her wild oats and create real change for women in her role as a public figure. But her father and his head of security want her kept safe and sound: caged like a bird for her protection.
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Ami will do anything to get out from under their control. Little does she know there are true dangers waiting for their chance to strike, a chance that comes when the princess slips away from her bodyguards and disappears in disguise into the underground world of sex clubs and rope bondage performers. Will the disguise be enough to keep her safe from the assassins on her trail? And what about this mysterious stranger, this Jiro, who seems fated to meet her again? What will she receive when she surrenders herself, bound and helpless, to his rope bondage: unbearable pleasure or ultimate pain?
Jiro pulled my arms back, securing them with rope. Even with my bra still on I felt exposed and brazen. I looked down. The hard points of my nipples were sharply visible through the silk. When he came to stand in front of me, his eyes lingered on them and I could not help but yearn for him to touch them.
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His fingers traced the rope from the top of my shoulder downward and I took a deep breath, as if trying to lift my chest toward them. A whimper escaped me as he let his knuckles brush over one erect point. He held still then and I shamelessly panted, letting my nipple brush against his fingers again and again. His eyes were locked with mine rather than looking at my breasts, even as he brought the other hand into place so I could show him how much I needed that touch.
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“I can make them even more sensitive,” he said, his voice low and tranquil.
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“Can you?”
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He nodded and began to add a new layer to the ropes criss-crossing my upper torso. Each new strand squeezed my breasts a little more than the previous one. Across the way I could see a woman was being tied in a similar fashion.
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“Turn around,” he said, and I faced into the niche instead of toward the room, as if he wanted to keep this view of me for himself for now.
