Page 33 of Going Deep
“Who?”
He chuckled. “Didn’t think so.”
He slid his finger free, and the air left her lungs in a whoosh.
“As I was saying, this is charming.” He gave her pussy a gentle pat. “But unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work for what I have in mind.”
There was a clicking noise, and the platform under her right knee ratcheted down.
“Better,” he decided and did the same on the other side.
With the knee rests lowered the bench took her full weight, taking the pressure off her knees and the arch out of her lower back. But her sigh of relief was cut off when he grasped her hips and tugged, dragging her back along the bench until her ass hung off the edge.
Off balance with her hips so far back and her knees so far forward, she started to push up. His hand landed in the middle of her back again.
“Stay down, darling.”
She shook her head. She wouldn’t have any control in this position, no way to protect herself from falling, and started to tell him so.
The words died on her lips when she felt something close over her left calf. Twisting her head, she saw he’d used one of the dangling straps to secure her lower leg to the platform. While she blinked at it, he moved to the other side and did the same with her right leg, and suddenly the feeling of instability faded.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “Better?”
“Yes,” she said, surprised, and he chuckled.
“Then do as you’re told,” he admonished and, with his hand back between her shoulder blades, pushed her down to lie flat on the bench once again.
He positioned her forearms so they rested on the front set of platforms and wrapped straps around them as well, and she felt herself settle even more. Strange that being restrained should feel so comforting. Secure. She didn’t have to worry about holding her body up, positioning it correctly. The straps and the bench took care of it for her, and it was oddly freeing.
Michael crouched next to her, eyes sharp. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, and her voice was clear and calm, with no tension or anxiety at all.
“Well, then let’s try a bit more, shall we?”
He rose and stepped out of view, his hand skimming over her back, her thigh as he moved. A strap came around her lower back, tightening down slowly, and she gave an instinctive wiggle. Her hips were barely able to shift, and when he gave the strap one more tug, she couldn’t move them at all.
“One more, I think,” he said and a strap crossed her upper back, just below her armpits. When he tightened it down, she realized she couldn’t move at all. Not forward or back, not side to side. She was completely at his mercy.
It should’ve made her nervous—and it did, on some level. But that level was buried under a layer of really good feelings.
He tugged gently at her hair. “Can you give me a color, Ginger?”
“Green. I’m green, Sir.”
“Very good.” He crouched, putting his face was level with hers, and kissed her. Gently, sweetly, and she sighed. She felt so relaxed, so mellow. Like there was nothing in the world she had to worry about.
When he pulled back she sent him a dreamy smile, and his lips quirked. “Well, well. Isn’t that interesting?”
She didn’t know what he was talking about, but it didn’t seem important enough to stress over.
“Do you remember the safeword, Ginger?”
“Mmm.” She blinked slowly as she tried to keep his face in focus. His gorgeous, sexy face. “Yellow to pause, red to stop. Blue if I get anxious.”
“Use them if you need to, all right?”
“Yes, Sir,” she sighed and let her eyes drift closed.
