Page 31 of Going Deep
“I don’t have any experience playing with someone with anxiety, and I’m inclined to err on the side of caution.”
She didn’t look happy, but she nodded. “I understand.”
“But,” he decided, “we can pick an anxiety-specific safeword, and evaluate from there.”
Her eyes lit at the suggestion. “How about blue? To stick with the color theme.”
“Blue works,” he decided. “Can I trust you to use it?”
She nodded firmly. “Yes. Yes, Sir. I promise.”
He suppressed a smile. He half expected her to cross her heart, hope to die. “Good. And the others?
“Green is go, yellow is pause, red is stop.”
“Excellent. Since you’re very new to all this, I’m going to be checking in with you frequently.”
Her head bobbed. “Okay. That’s good.”
“Also, since you’ll be restrained, I will not leave this room. You will never be out of my sight. Clear?”
“I’ll be restrained?” she echoed, then blinked. “I mean, clear, Sir.”
“Good girl. Stand up.”
He remained seated while she rose to stand in front of him. Her hands gave a small twitch and then stilled, hanging loosely at her sides as she waited for further instruction.
He kept his gaze steady and lifted his hands to her hips. “Normally, I would have you remove your own clothes,” he told her. “But this time, I’d like to do the honors. And it will please me, Ginger, if you stand perfectly still until I tell you to move.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, eagerness and nerves making the words all but vibrate.
He grasped the tab of the zipper of her skirt, and keeping his eyes on hers, raised it the two inches to the waistband. It resisted briefly and then gave way, and her skirt fell open and away.
The shirt, no longer held in place by the skirt, fell to just below her hips, the hem wrinkled from having been tucked in. He set the skirt carefully aside, still watching her face, and raised his hands to the buttons on her shirt.
One by one, he pushed the small discs through their holes, taking his time. The backs of his fingers brushed against her sternum, her upper abdomen, her belly as he worked his way down. She shivered, the muscles jumping under her skin, but she kept still. Her eyes were locked onto his, her breathing coming in short, shallow pants that might have given him pause if he hadn’t seen the arousal in her face, her eyes.
He reached the last button and parted the edges of the shirt, pushing them aside so the length of her torso was framed by the white cotton, and finally dropping his eyes from hers, looked his fill.
Her breasts were full, fuller than he’d expected, with heavy lower curves and pinkish-brown nipples already drawn tight with arousal. The skin there was paler than that on her arms and legs, and he could see the tan line inches above the swell of her breasts. Her entire torso was milk-pale, unused to seeing the sun.
His gaze trailed downward, over the sleek plane of her abdomen, the gentle curve of her lower belly. Her mound was freshly shaved, her pussy bare, and he could see the sheen of moisture on her labia.
He shifted to look lower, at the trembling muscles of her thighs, her rounded calves. He nearly grinned as he realized she still wore her shoes, the fuck-me pumps with the ankle strap. It was a hell of a look, and he was tempted to leave them. But he wanted her in ankle cuffs.
“Let’s get these off,” he murmured and, crouching, reached for the strap over her left ankle.
Her hand landed on his shoulder, and his head came up. “Don’t move,” he snapped.
She jerked and her hand dropped back to her side. Confusion and worry clouded her eyes, and he knew she was thinking about maintaining her balance while he removed her shoes. But he said nothing, wanting to see if she would follow directions without an explanation.
He returned to his task, unbuckling the strap and grasping the heel of the shoe in one hand and her calf in the other. “Lift out,” he told her, and after a slight hesitation she did, her body shaking slightly as she struggled for balance. As soon as her heel cleared the shoe he let go of it, grabbing her opposite thigh to hold her steady, and she stepped out.
He moved to the other shoe without looking up, repeating the process. This time she moved easier, relaxing when she realized he wouldn’t let her fall. He smiled, pleased. Trusting him with this one small thing was a step toward trusting him with much, much more.
He ran his hands up her smooth, strong legs, deliberately scraping the rough edge of his hands over sensitive skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He continued up, sliding around the tops of her thighs to her hips, to the cool, firm curves of her buttocks. He glided his palms over her in circles, her skin warming quickly under his hands. Sensitizing it for what was to come.
Leaving the enticing curves of her ass, he brought his hands around to her belly under the hem of the shirt. He lingered there for a moment, enjoying the soft curves and smooth skin, before sliding up to cup her breasts.
