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suck you?” She wasn’t typically forward. Her blush flared brilliant scarlet.
    “Allowing you to do that wouldn’t be much of a punishment, would it now?”
    “No Sir.”
    “And the point is punishment. Go to the bag and get out a black lacquer box. Go ahead.”
    Moving. That was a particularly daunting task since every movement jostled or pulled on one of the clamps. The strings of beads swayed, slapping her stomach, and the clit clamp made each step erotic enough to be almost uncomfortable. In the few steps it took for her to cross to the wardrobe, she ached.
    When she finally turned around, Daniel was lying on the bed, propped up on his side, watching her progress.
    He crooked a finger at her. The turd was twice as far away as he had been. Box in hand, she began the slow trek back.
    He patted the bed. “Come up here, on your knees.”
    Easier said than done. She crawled onto the bed, hissing as the clamps elicited more sensation. She didn’t doubt she would hate the punishment, but love what came next.

Chapter Three
     
    Daniel was enjoying himself far too much. Had he known Christine better, he might have selected a punishment less time consuming, but since he didn’t know how well she took pain or if she would even communicate to him that something hurt in a bad way, this was perfect. The beads and clamps would torture her while the sensual massage stretched on for ages, taking a big chunk out of their reserved time.
    “How do you feel?” The touch to her clit was to satisfy his curiosity about her response to the jewelry, rather than a suspicion it hurt her. She hadn’t indicated pain after the initial clamping.
    She moaned, her hips bucking despite her attempts at restraining herself.
    “Christine?”
    “Oh god, I want you to fuck me.” The lovely blush intensified and the way her eyes fluttered wide was uninhibited.
    “That is why I am the Master here.” Indulging himself, he touched her folds, sliding fingers into her to feel the intimate clench of her channel. “Your limits included no sex. Fucking you would be against those rules.”
    She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut. Removing his hand, Daniel smeared her juices on her thigh.
    “There’s a bottle of oil in the box. You’re going to massage me until I tell you to stop.”
    He faked nonchalance by rolling onto his stomach, his aching dick trapped between his body and the sheets. Pillowing his head on crossed arms, he listened to her panting breaths, the way she didn’t move at once but collected her thoughts first. Truth be told, he needed the time to prepare himself. Fucking Christine several times over sounded like the perfect way to spend the night.
    The scent of sandalwood blossomed on the air behind him, the sheets rustling with her movements. Warm oil dribbled across his shoulders and down his spine. A puddle pooled at his lower back.
    She straddled his hips, her heated core pressed flush to his ass. She slicked her palms up through the puddle, driving the heels of her hands into his muscles and spreading the oil. Up and down his back, she dispersed it and attacked the worst knots. Her breath puffed against his neck as she leaned forward, her thumbs kneading his neck. The beads rolled up his spine, tickling him. Her breasts grazed his back and she groaned.
    The sensual torment continued. Every movement she made was punctuated with soft moans. The clamps tormented him and he wasn’t even the one wearing them. She worked his muscles from his shoulders down to his calves. The strength of her ministrations decreased but her attention to detail didn’t. He was thoroughly enjoying it, his body sinking farther into the mattress.
    “Sir, please turn over and allow me do your front.” He had to take a deep breath before he rolled to his back, one arm curled under his head, rubbing his chest with the other to keep it busy.
    The color in her cheeks was high, her eyes bright.
    She straddled his hips. Their gaze stayed locked as she