On Her Master's Secret Service (Masters and Mercenaries #4)(120)

I can do this. I can do this. Oh, God. I can’t do this. I can’t do this!

Angelina’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “Yellow!”

Marc stopped moving, but still kept her hands high above her head. With his other hand, he trailed gently down the underside of her arm until he reached her breast and rubbed his knuckles against her rigid nipple.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, pet.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Sir.”

“What frightens you?”

“My hands over my head. That reminds me of…” the one who shall remain nameless.

“When you were restrained before, were your hands together or apart?”

“Apart, Sir.”

“Were you restrained to a post like this?”

“No, Sir. To a St. Andrew’s cross.”

“Good. I want you to focus on how this experience is different from that earlier one, not the least difference being who your Dom is this time. Will you trust me to continue, Angelina?”

Her name always sounded so lyrical when he said it and calmed her down more than when he called her pet or other endearments. She took a deep breath. This is Marc. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for slowing down for me.”

He rolled her nipple. “Thank you for remembering to use ‘yellow’ to slow me down. Now, we will continue.” He guided her backward. Would he turn her around to face the post? Oh, God. Then she wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing. Just like when Allen…

“Relax, pet. You’re almost there.”

She felt the wooden beam press against the expanse of skin between her shoulder blades and the cheeks of her bare ass. She still wore the bustier, although, with its front hooks, he could remove it whenever he chose. Apparently, he liked having her wearing it. For now.

“Keep your hands here.”

Was he going to do honor bondage again? That wouldn’t be so bad. Then she heard the rattle of chains and dread pooled in her lower abdomen. He knelt on one knee in front of her, the out-of-whack symbolism making her smile, and attached a leather cuff to each ankle.

After checking to make sure the bindings weren’t too tight, he stood and walked to a wall where a variety of whips, paddles, and straps hung. He would remember she’d said no whips, wouldn’t he? Before the concern became a full-blown panic, he bypassed them for a display of bars of varying lengths considering several before choosing one and bringing it back to her.

“Spread your legs. Wide.” When she hesitated too long, he added, “Don’t make me repeat my commands, pet.”