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uncapped the oil and poured it on his chest in one continuous stream until the bottle was empty. Tossing it away, she leaned down, planting her hands on either side of his shoulders. Chris lowered herself until their chests pressed together and the beads were sandwiched between them.
    He let one hand rise to cup her ass. “What are you doing?”
    “Rubbing the oil in, Sir.”
    The smile was coy. She rotated to the right, drawing a circle on his chest with her breasts. The clamps scraped, skimming over his nipple. She repeated the motion in the opposite direction. The beads slid easily between their bodies, slicked by the oil.
    He let his eyes drift closed for a moment.
    Her warmth disappeared. Goose bumps skittered across his flesh in her absence.
    He reorganized his thoughts. He couldn’t let the sensual massage continue unless he wanted to blow his wad like a teenager. Glancing at a digital clock mounted on the wall, he calculated how long he’d left the clamps on and devised the next method of torture.
    Scooping her into his arms and striding across the room, he couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction when she hugged him closer, eyes shut, and let him do what he wanted. He couldn’t decide if he should feel sorry for her or hopeful.
    Daniel adjusted the modified X-shaped restraint bench by pressing and holding a pedal. The gears slowly hummed to life, tilting the X until it was parallel to the ground. Christine hadn’t yet opened her eyes. The balance tipped in favor of hope. He seemed to have won her trust.
    He tried to tamp down on the hope. It was a fragile thing he didn’t know whether he was ready to nurture yet. Christine admittedly had many marks against her, but damn him if he couldn’t wonder what it would be like to learn this woman’s body, to have her complete trust.
    Setting her down on the bench, he watched her while he positioned her to lie flat. Her eyes fluttered open, looking up at him through her lashes. A faint smile tugged at her lips before she glanced to the right. The sight of the arm restraint didn’t surprise her that he could tell.
    Intrigued, he waited to see what she would do next.
    Bringing her arms over her head, she laid each along the lines of the restraints that would hold her arms out diagonally from her body. She moved to do the same with her legs.
    The bottom dropped out of his stomach and he had to kick his own proverbial ass into taking over the situation. He guided one leg to the restraint before moving to the other and adjusting the bench to ensure she was safely supported. He watched her, looking for some sign of distress or the return of her sour attitude, but she smiled at him and lay obediently where he put her.
    “You’ve done bondage before?”
    She lifted one brow. “Yes Sir.”
    He mirrored the action. Usually it took a long time before a sub learned the nuances of his Dominance, but she’d picked up on the finer points. A look, a raised brow and she obeyed. Direct orders she had occasional problems with.
    “What do you like about it?” He buckled the restraints over her thighs.
    “I like…”
    He filled the space by leaning up between her legs to buckle the restraint around her middle.
    “I like letting someone else be in control. I like satisfying someone else, Sir.”
    He finished binding her to the bench, her arms and legs loosely restrained.
    Standing by her side, he leaned over her chest and inspected the clamps. The beads were oily but still beautiful draped across her ribs. Her nipples were contracted in tight peaks. They would be tender for days, something else he found satisfying.
    “Let’s take these off, shall we?”
    Her breath hitched at his words and stuttered to a halt as he reached for and loosened one clamp. Her breath hissed out. Little angry marks marred the surface of the areola. Bending over her breast, he took the peak into his mouth, licking and soothing the hurt.
    He repeated the attentions to her other mound, looking for any