The sheer certainty in his gaze made me believe him. He began pushing the slick oil across my skin again, his hands moving up to cup my breasts. A sharp tremble ran through me as he started to massage them—kneading the soft flesh, pinching my nipples, and playing with them until they were completely sensitive. They fitted perfectly into his palms, and the overwhelming sensation made me squirm against the restraints.

"Don't move," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.