“You are amazing, little owl. Doing so well.” Rubbing his hand along her upper thigh, he kept the smile in place even though his eyes dimmed slightly. “The chair’s gonna move, darlin’.”
Move? Where?
A soft, low whirr hummed beneath her, then her legs were slowly, inexorably spread as the lower half of the table split into two. It was the strangest sensation, feeling herself being exposed without actively commanding her own body.
When her thighs were parted wide enough to make her squirm on the verge of discomfort, the whirring changed pitch, and her knees were raised, bent.
Everything was on display—her sex, her butt,everything.
Nervously, she risked a peek at Fordham, but the dark-haired Dom was unobtrusively tapping away on his cell phone, not even looking in her direction.
Merrick stepped into the space between her legs, blocking her view. “Ford’s an excellent monitor, little owl. Might seem like he’s not paying attention, but he’s attuned to everything I’m doing. Some subs have an exhibitionist streak and like being watched; you’re straddling the line.”
Tamsyn’s head jerked up. Um, no, she was firmly on thenotbeing watched side of the line. Before she could fire that at him, his eyes took a leisurely journey from her face to the open vee of her legs, and the heat in them incinerated any words she might have been able to force through her tight throat.
“Never did I imagine I’d be so lucky as to have a sub so beautiful.” Big, callused hands clamped over her breasts, rough fingertips rolling her nipples. Tugging, pinching, until they felt as though they belonged to him more than her. “A beautiful sub who tries her best for me even when she’s afraid.” Fingertips trailing down to her ribcage, he traced the strap pinning her chest down, then tightened it by a hole. “A sub who is gorgeous, inside and out, and made just for me.”
Her stomach muscles tensed when he stroked over them, her breath hitching as he proceeded to tighten the hip strap. Shame flooded her cheeks with heat as his hand cupped her mound, a single finger delving between her lower lips.
Histsk-tskof disappointment gutted her.
“Nothing’s going in this pretty cunt when it’s so dry, little owl. Gonna remedy that in just a minute.” He reached over to the table and picked up a thin strip of rubber; her guttural sound of distress made his head cock. “Yeah, you know what this is, right?”
A stream of babbling nonsense lodged in her throat as he gently wrapped the strip around her bicep, pulling it tight and knotting it. It was a mystery as to what would come first—a barrage of pleading or a vicious purging of everything she’d eaten in the last week.
She felt her head go light when he firmly plumped the vein in her elbow.
This was a horror movie, and she had the lead role as the victim.
When he reached for the tray again, she tried desperately to twist her arm out of the leather straps. Panic made her fight both straps at once, costing her precious seconds, and in the end, she simply cowered as Merrick pressed the tip of a loaded syringe to the crook of her elbow.
She screamed.
Screamed and screamed, waiting for the cold rush of the drugs to flood her veins and suck her under into the cold, black abyss where her body and mind were so disconnected, she had no recollection of thought or memory.
Warm hands clasped her cheeks. “Tamsyn, it’s okay. Shush now, little darlin’.”
Throat burning, her lungs heaving so hard she thought her ribcage would shatter, she stared into patient green eyes through a sheen of tears. Her heart beat so fast, her veins threatened to burst.
“Stand down, Ford. I’ve got her.” Merrick’s gaze burned a hole through the thick fog of her panic. “I’ve got you, darlin’. It’s horrible, I know, but we’ll get through it. An inch at a time.”
Her breath shuddered out on a whimper.
He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Good girls deserve a reward, Tamsyn.” Tiny kisses dotted her cheeks, down her neck and across her rabid pulse point. “I think…” His beard scratched her heated skin, titillating her upper chest, then her breasts. “A good, brave girl…” Down, down, down her belly to the triangle of hair on her mound, his lips leaving a path of tingling skin in their wake. “…needs an orgasm after a shock like that.”
Buckles jangled; she squeaked in protest against the straps pulling taut around her thighs and ankles. Thoroughly immobilized, her legs couldn’t move an inch; the only leeway was Merrick’s finger width between the straps and her flesh.
“Need to get used to being tied down, Tamsyn. Loose straps are fine until a scene picks up intensity, then the risk of injury grows.” His deft fingers adjusted the hip strap again, then the chest strap. “How does that feel?”
Damn it, he’d asked a question she couldn’t answer without using her voice.
“Tamsyn?”
With her vocal chords paralyzed again, she could only stare helplessly at him.
His smile flashed, wicked this time, and again he reached for the tray on the table, selecting a tiny bottle, one she’d seen before. “Gonna add some incentive for you, little owl. A submissive needs to use her voice, even ones like you who lose it on occasion.”
Flicking open the cap, he squirted a generous handful of lube into his left palm, then set the bottle aside. Dabbing the tip of his middle finger into the puddle, he dropped his hand between her butt cheeks and pressed the lubed digit against the tiny hole.