natural to place her elbows on the forward cushion and rest her forearms. Her shoulders were supported by two small cushions. She hesitated, but then slid her chin into the upward-curving crescent.
It was almost scandalous, how comfortable the contraption was.
She felt Jacob’s hand on her free lower leg and he lifted it onto the apparatus. A moment later, she felt the padded straps go around each ankle and tighten. Then he came around to the front. She stared at his crotch as he quickly restrained her wrists. Heat rushed through her cheeks and sex. The height of the apparatus had clearly been matched to his—Jacob’s—body.
He stepped closer, his crotch coming within inches of her face. Her eyes widened. He placed both of his hands at her temples and smoothed back her damp hair, gathering it at her nape. He swept the tresses over her shoulder, getting it off her back.
“You’re comfortable?” he murmured, sliding his warm hands along her bare back.
“Yes,” she managed in a choked voice. She shivered at the feeling of his skin gliding against hers.
“You’re still cold.”
“No—”
“I think I’ve got something that can help with that.”
Her brain whirred in nonstop anxiety and excitement while he was out of her vision, but he probably had only left her side for a few seconds. He came up next to her—again, silently. The snap of a container opening alerted her to his presence. Because of the chin crescent, she couldn’t turn her head and alleviate her anxiety. She
could
have lifted her chin out of it, of course, and turned her head. But it excited her to imagine that even her head was restrained.
She felt movement on the skin just above her ass. The cloth of his swim trunks? Yes. He’d straddled the entire bench with long legs, and her body along with it.
“Jacob?” she asked uncertainly.
“Shhh,” he murmured. He placed both of his big hands on either side of her spine. Warmth emanated from his hands and soaked into her muscles. He began to massage her back, spreading oil on her skin. It felt divine.
“Oh . . . it’s
warm
. It feels so good,” she said.
“Then it’s doing what it’s supposed to do, on both counts.”
His hands were so big. He shaped her muscles to his palms, squeezing out the tension she experienced from accepting the challenge of being restrained to the apparatus. She moaned softly when his hands shifted, and he massaged along her shoulder blades.
“You could do this for a living,” she muttered after a stretched moment, her eyelids fluttering closed.
“You think?” he asked quietly. She sensed him step forward slightly as his hands smoothed and shaped the muscles beneath her shoulder blades. “It might be considered kind of unethical if I did something like this, though.” His hands slid down below her armpits, and he was massaging her suspended bare breasts in his warm, lubricated hands. Her eyelids sprang open, and she was staring at the blue lake through the leaf design of the wrought iron fence. She wasn’t really seeing, though. Just feeling. His palms continued to massage her while his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipples lightly. The oil amplified her pleasure. A heavy, achy feeling suffused her sex.
He lowered his hands, cradling her rib cage, and then swept them up over her breasts again, lifting and massaging them. It aroused her, as always, his show of controlled, yet blatant, greed.
“Jacob,” she panted. He slid his hands lower again, holding her rib cage so surely, her very heart in his hands. Was that why he did it? she wondered. To exhibit his complete mastery over her mind and body? She was glad when he cupped her heaving breasts again.
“Are you getting warmer?” He ran his fingertips over her beading nipples, rubbing the warming lubricant into them until they tingled and grew diamond-hard.
“Hotter,” she admitted throatily.
He tapped her erect nipples lightly with his palm, the taut sensation making her whimper.
It was almost scandalous, how comfortable the contraption was.
She felt Jacob’s hand on her free lower leg and he lifted it onto the apparatus. A moment later, she felt the padded straps go around each ankle and tighten. Then he came around to the front. She stared at his crotch as he quickly restrained her wrists. Heat rushed through her cheeks and sex. The height of the apparatus had clearly been matched to his—Jacob’s—body.
He stepped closer, his crotch coming within inches of her face. Her eyes widened. He placed both of his hands at her temples and smoothed back her damp hair, gathering it at her nape. He swept the tresses over her shoulder, getting it off her back.
“You’re comfortable?” he murmured, sliding his warm hands along her bare back.
“Yes,” she managed in a choked voice. She shivered at the feeling of his skin gliding against hers.
“You’re still cold.”
“No—”
“I think I’ve got something that can help with that.”
Her brain whirred in nonstop anxiety and excitement while he was out of her vision, but he probably had only left her side for a few seconds. He came up next to her—again, silently. The snap of a container opening alerted her to his presence. Because of the chin crescent, she couldn’t turn her head and alleviate her anxiety. She
could
have lifted her chin out of it, of course, and turned her head. But it excited her to imagine that even her head was restrained.
She felt movement on the skin just above her ass. The cloth of his swim trunks? Yes. He’d straddled the entire bench with long legs, and her body along with it.
“Jacob?” she asked uncertainly.
“Shhh,” he murmured. He placed both of his big hands on either side of her spine. Warmth emanated from his hands and soaked into her muscles. He began to massage her back, spreading oil on her skin. It felt divine.
“Oh . . . it’s
warm
. It feels so good,” she said.
“Then it’s doing what it’s supposed to do, on both counts.”
His hands were so big. He shaped her muscles to his palms, squeezing out the tension she experienced from accepting the challenge of being restrained to the apparatus. She moaned softly when his hands shifted, and he massaged along her shoulder blades.
“You could do this for a living,” she muttered after a stretched moment, her eyelids fluttering closed.
“You think?” he asked quietly. She sensed him step forward slightly as his hands smoothed and shaped the muscles beneath her shoulder blades. “It might be considered kind of unethical if I did something like this, though.” His hands slid down below her armpits, and he was massaging her suspended bare breasts in his warm, lubricated hands. Her eyelids sprang open, and she was staring at the blue lake through the leaf design of the wrought iron fence. She wasn’t really seeing, though. Just feeling. His palms continued to massage her while his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipples lightly. The oil amplified her pleasure. A heavy, achy feeling suffused her sex.
He lowered his hands, cradling her rib cage, and then swept them up over her breasts again, lifting and massaging them. It aroused her, as always, his show of controlled, yet blatant, greed.
“Jacob,” she panted. He slid his hands lower again, holding her rib cage so surely, her very heart in his hands. Was that why he did it? she wondered. To exhibit his complete mastery over her mind and body? She was glad when he cupped her heaving breasts again.
“Are you getting warmer?” He ran his fingertips over her beading nipples, rubbing the warming lubricant into them until they tingled and grew diamond-hard.
“Hotter,” she admitted throatily.
He tapped her erect nipples lightly with his palm, the taut sensation making her whimper.
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