He needed a shave. Like her, he wore nothing. Unlike her, he was in control. Overwhelmed by his greater size and the way his ebony eyes burned into her, she put up no resistance as he placed a third loop around her. She couldn’t lift her arms and yet her circulation wasn’t being cut off. He stepped closer. She commanded herself to fight but didn’t. Feeling stupid and trapped and excited, she watched as he did something to the rope in front. The backs and sides of his hands grazing her breasts confused and thrilled her. He was doing that on purpose, damn him, yet it felt so good. When he stepped back, she realized he’d tied a knot in his handiwork, guaranteeing that the bonds would remain in place as long as he wanted them to. Dropping the loose end so it trailed over her belly and against her mons before hanging between her legs, he folded his arms over his chest and studied her. Caught. His. “I don’t understand.” She hated the squeak in her voice, but maybe it would keep him from figuring out she was more turned on than frightened.
