Page 29 of Bad Enough

“What do you like best about yourself when you look in the mirror?” he murmured.

“My hair.”

“Mmmm.” She felt his chin resting on top of her head. “It is very beautiful. You should be proud of it. I love how it contrasts with your pale skin and your emerald eyes.” She saw the hand that had been across her chest now playing with one of the loose, wispy curls she had allowed to remain free of her braid. “It feels like silk.” He lowered his cheek to lay flat against her head, his nose buried just above her ear. Then she heard and felt him take a deep breath and then exhale. “It smells like roses.” He inhaled deeply again. “I bet all of you smells like roses.”

The hand at her waist pulled her to him even tighter, the hardness of his cock nestling tight against her ass. “I love this color on you.” The hand playing with her hair let the curl go, and then both hands drifted up to trace the boned edges of the corseted bodice. “Why did you pick this outfit?”

Why is he asking me these questions?

“I like the contrasts. The corset keeps me feeling restrained, but the skirt and sleeves make me feel like I’m floating, and the bare skin makes me feel exposed, yet I know that I’m not.”

His fingers were still lightly tracing the edges of the corset, just teasing her exposed skin with barely-there brushes. The back-and-forth motion of his fingertips abraded her skin while creating a pleasurable ache.

Her fingers wanted to glide over his powerful arms, feel the braided leather and silver at his wrists, feel the heat of his tan skin, slide through his mussed hair.

“May I touch you, Lobo?”

“No, princess. Not tonight. This is about you.”

His hands stopped tracing the edges of the top of her corset and slid down the sides of her torso’s hourglass shape until he reached the flare of her hips, then crossed over to the ties of her skirt that held it together in front.

He pulled the ties and stepped back just enough so the skirt fell loosely behind her. One of his hands had retained hold of the silk, and he pulled it clear of her and dropped it to the floor off to the side. His hands went back to her hips, moving back up against her. “Look at how beautiful you are.” His voice was giving her an order, but it felt like he was marveling at his luck at being in her presence. It made her feel powerful that this gorgeous man could find her attractive.

His hands moved to the tail of her braid, then stopped. “We didn’t discuss your hair. May I unbraid it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes frozen to where his large fingers played with the tail.

Deftly, his fingers untied the scrap of silk tying her braid closed. Once it was removed, he tucked the ribbon into his pants pocket and began to lazily slip the strands free from the single plait. Once it was all undone, he took his time combing through her hair until it fell loose and soft down her back.

He brushed all of her hair over both shoulders so that it covered her front. His hands rested at the top of the hooks to the corset bodysuit from behind. “Color?”

“Green.”

Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t even sure if the words had actually passed her lips. They must have, however, because she began to feel him loosen the hooks of the garment so painfully slow that she could anticipate each action. Every snick of the metal pieces unhooking was like a gasp of breath in the room. Once all were undone, his hands slid inside the garment to rest along her hips, where they settled for just a moment, as if allowing her time to change her mind. Then he pushed down the sides of her legs, taking the garment in its entirety off of her body. When it fell around her ankles, he crouched down to lift first one foot and then the second out of the clothing.

With care, he picked the garment up, as well as the discarded skirt, and took them to the chair they had been sitting in earlier. He laid them gently over the back so that nothing touched the floor, then returned to stand behind her. His hands perched on her shoulders, slipping beneath the waterfall of hair that covered her from the top of her head to the rounded undersides of her ass. “Don’t move. Keep your eyes focused on the mirror.”

She felt his hands leave her arms, and he stepped around her body to walk to the mirror. It was odd watching him in the reflection when he was right in front of her. It felt like what was happening to her was happening in synchronization with watching someone on television or in a movie, making it just a little bit naughty to think she was playing along with the entertainment.

Like on the computer, when he told you what he wanted to do, and you acted it out on your end.

“Oh!” It was more of a soft gasp of understanding rather than the speaking of a word. In the reflection, she saw him smiling to himself as he grabbed the two swaths of cloth draped over the top of the mirror. He knew she’d made the connection to what he was doing.

He pulled the pink silk swath. It slithered down from the top of the mirror, and he draped it over his shoulder. His hand raised again, but this time to the cream tulle swath, and pulled its end. The rasp of the tulle was quiet, but it filled the room. Once he held it in his hand, he turned to face her.

His measured steps took him back to her. She was still watching in the mirror, her hungry eyes fixated on the material hanging from his fingers, barely trailing along the floor. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a growing flush of pink stretching across her bare skin.

Behind her once again, he took hold of both her hands and drew them loosely to the small of her back. She inhaled sharply as he wound the tulle around her wrists, effectively binding them.

His mouth went back to the shell of her ear, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. “The knot will be tight enough to keep you from being able to use your hands. If you feel trapped, just say ‘red,’ and I will pull it free. If you feel panic at any time, or I don’t undo it quickly enough, use your left hand to pull the tail, and the whole structure will fall apart.”

Eyes holding his fast in the mirror, she closed her fists. “Thank you.”

He tested the tightness of the restraint by sliding his fingers between the material and her skin. “Are you in any pain? Losing feeling in your fingers?”

“No pain, no tingling, no numbness.”

“Good. That means it’s tight enough without restricting blood flow. It’s extremely important that if at any time your fingers begin to tingle and go numb, you need to let me know immediately.”

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