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helplessness.
    My sex clenched even as a thrill of trepidation raced through me.
    “Take a deep breath. You’re safe with me.”
    I inhaled without thinking, complying with his low, soothing order.
    “Good girl.”
    Liquid heat teased between my lower lips at the gentle praise. He reached around me, his corded arms bracketing my body as his fingers found the zipper at the back of my tight leather skirt. His thumbs skimmed across the bare skin along the upper edge of the skirt, and I shuddered. The wetness between my thighs increased, making my panties damp. I’d become somewhat aroused during previous scenes. There was nothing to worry about. I was in control.
    His fingers curled into the slick material, tugging it slowly down my legs. He slid down onto one knee before me, his face hovering oh-so-close as he drew level with my sex. He lingered there, shooting me a wicked grin when he caught me staring down at him with wide eyes.
    For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. My clit pulsed, and his hot breath teased through the thin black lace that barely covered me. Only my long period of ingrained celibacy kept me from rocking toward him and silently begging for him to put his mouth on me.
    I didn’t want that kind of contact with any man.
    I didn’t.
    I heaved in a sigh when he pulled away, breaking the intense connection. The skirt pooled around my high heels, and I stepped out of it without him having to instruct me.
    He remained kneeling before me and reached for the spreader bar. He closed the cuff at one end around my left ankle, drawing the leather tight around my flesh before buckling it at a more comfortable setting. The brief squeeze drew forth a renewed sense of helplessness, but this time it wasn’t accompanied by fear. Lust swirled within me, and my nipples grew tight beneath my corset. With my arms pulled taut above me, my cleavage was on lewd display, my nipples nearly peeking over the upper edge of the confining garment. The press of the steel bones against my waist only heightened my awareness that my body was bound, vulnerable to the man before me. He might be kneeling, but there was nothing subservient about his demeanor when he gripped my right ankle and eased it away from my left, gently urging me to widen my stance, steadily spreading my legs so I was open for him. Cool air caressed my labia as they parted along with my legs. My thong slipped between them, the elastic teasing as it pressed into my swollen folds.
    My arousal was becoming undeniable, unbearable. It was so intense that I was hardly able to worry about the fact that my control was slipping.
    He secured the second cuff around my ankle, the metal bar between the two keeping me spread wide. He took an eternity to stare up at me, studying my sex intently. His features tightened with hunger, but he kept careful distance between us.
    I ached for him to touch me. The realization hit me hard. He’d told me that I might beg him for his touch, and he’d managed to make me desperate for it in a matter of minutes. The scene hadn’t even begun, yet my body thrummed with lust. The heady sensation was disconcerting, overwhelming. It threatened to sweep all reason away. I couldn’t recall ever being this turned on.
    He tore his gaze from the most intimate part of my body, giving me the briefest reprieve from his powerful demeanor. Then he picked up the crop and rose to his feet. Somehow, I’d forgotten his size, and I suddenly felt very small in the shadow of his hulking frame.
    He cocked his head to the side, considering me.
    “How do you feel about being blindfolded?”
    I drew in a shuddering breath and did my best to shrug nonchalantly, a gesture that was ruined by my bound arms. “Sure,” my voice came out in a breathy whisper that belied my attempt at cool confidence. “You can blindfold me.”
    His lips firmed, and he stepped away from me to return to the wall of kinky toys. He quickly selected a strip of black cloth and came back to