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He added to the unsettling statement by giving her a deliberate look from head to toe. As she'd noted, there wasn't a whole lot of difference between wearing the shirt and not wearing it. The shirt was even more titillating, since the white fabric was so thin and stretchy, the difference between the circle of areola and the jutting tip was delineated. The hold of the knot pushed her breasts together, giving her a deep cleavage. Obeying one of those primitive instincts he'd mentioned, she stood still for him until he was done looking. He gave her an approving nod, acknowledging it, and disappeared around the corner. Glancing down, she slid her fingertips along her inner thigh and discovered damp tracks there, evidence of her arousal escaping the saturated thong.
With an erratic breath, she turned to the tasks he'd set for her. Popcorn preparation, beer retrieval. Over the sound of popcorn popping, she could hear furniture being moved, but decided to curb her curiosity. She needed time to collect herself, as much as possible. Retrieving her broom and dustpan, she collected his discarded hair, resisting the urge to keep a lock. That was crazy, moony, girl-stalker stuff.
"Madison?" He called to her, a note of impatience in his tone.
"I'm coming. Just finishing up the popcorn." She dumped it into a bowl, pulled a beer from the fridge and headed for the living room.
He'd retrieved two dining room chairs, straight wooden chairs with velvet seats. A towel from the bathroom had been folded over the cushion of one of them. The two chairs faced one another, one angled toward the television, the other the couch and the wall behind it.
"Put the popcorn and beer on the table here. Then sit down in the chair with the towel." The one facing away from the television had the towel.
"I won't get to see much of the movie this way."
"The movie's for me, not for you. Force Ten from Navarone. A personal favorite." He nodded to the chair. "Sit."
She did so, more than a little wary when he removed something from the tote that looked like a control box with wires and clips. He also took out a couple pairs of Velcro cuffs.
"Spread your legs so your feet are on the outside of the front chair legs."
When she complied, he dropped to one knee and removed her shiny shoes, his fingers caressing her ankles. He wrapped the cuff around one ankle, binding it to the chair leg. Then he did the same to the other. The chairs were good-sized, heavy furniture. Alice had always joked that they were meant to accommodate a team of football players. As a result, Madison's legs were splayed wide enough the damp crotch of her panties stretched over her sex. Logan unbuckled his belt, making her eyes widen, but when he stripped it off, he used it around her waist, threading the tongue into the slats of the chair and then buckling it so her backside pressed against them. Her palms were damp again, and she was experiencing that rabbitlike leap of her heart.
"Logan . . ."
"Yes, Madison?"
"I'm . . . this is making me a little afraid."
He was still on one knee, so he put a hand on hers, his fingers wrapping intimately around her thigh. "What kind of fear, Madison? Do you think I'm going to hurt you? Try to frighten you?"
"No." She shook her head. When his expression eased, it helped, seeing that mattered to him. He didn't want her to fear him. At least not that way. "I'm afraid of giving you control like this. Afraid of how it will make me feel. And that something will go wrong and get screwed up."
"That you'll screw something up," he corrected. "Or I'll disappoint you, not be everything you expect?"
That last part made her sound like a total bitch, but he didn't wait for her struggle with an answer. "All you need to do is trust me, Madison. Follow my direction. If something doesn't feel right, you tell me and we'll talk it out. I won't be able to read everything from your mind, any more than you can read everything from mine. Sometimes you have to take a breath, make an adjustment." He cupped her face. "You're under my control, but you're not powerless. Far from it. Understand?"
That was what she feared most. She always either held on too tightly and screwed it up, or let it go and trusted too much, expecting more than any one person should expect from another human being. In the end, giving up on any of it had been the only solution that worked for her.
But the handsome lines on his face and far-too-shrewd eyes told her he'd faced his own obstacles in life. He had a kindness as well as an inflexible strength on which she desperately wanted to rely. She just didn't want Logan to be yet another failed expectation, a memory of cruel apathy.
Well, she was way too far down that path tonight to turn back, right? Hell, she'd dressed up for him in this provocative outfit, had stripped for him, and was letting him tie her up. If she backed away now, it would be rude. Foolish. Yet she was flooded by utter panic, like someone with a paralyzing fear of heights stepping into the elevator of the Space Needle. The door had closed, the button for the top floor pushed, taking her beyond the point of no return.
"Madison, focus on me."
She saw him studying her with that intent look that saw so many things. "Call me Master again. Not for me. Call me that for you. See how it makes you feel."
"Master," she said, and repeated it. "Master."
It did steady her, so much it was ironically a little disturbing. It didn't stop her palms from sweating, but she was able to tune back in to what he was doing.
He squeezed her knee, showing approval, and used two more cuffs to bind her arms behind her, at the small of her back. Another strap bound them to the slats. With her waist bound, the position thrust her breasts out and he sat back on his heels, obviously enjoying that look. She moistened her lips, and his gaze flickered up to her mouth.
"My schoolgirl, all trussed up, hot and bothered, wanting to come. How wet are you, Madison?"
"P-pretty wet. Very."
He retrieved a blindfold from th
e tote, sitting it next to him. "I'm eventually going to put this on you, to increase your focus on the sensations. This next part will feel good, but it's not much to look at. They haven't figured out a way to make electrodes look sexy."
