THREE

Jess's arms were tied to a low brace across the rear chair legs, so it was with awkward athletics that he lifted his buttocks off the seat of the chair. Rory stood to the side of him and observed his progress appreciatively. His pecs strained slightly as his torso stretched laterally, and he arched his back. The muscles of his thighs twitched masterfully under the balance of his weight; she could see that clear-through the threadbare fabric of his pyjamas. And as he thrust his hips skyward (the little bit that he was able, given the nature of his restraints), he stood proud and stiff and beautiful.

"Hmmm," she murmured in praise and Jess dared a look directly into her eyes. A true captive would have been guarded, too introverted to dare such a gaze, but, knowing Jess, Rory smirked. He didn't fit the part of this scene quite as well as he did other scenes. He would never be typecast in this role. But, bless him, he gave it his all. She placed a hand at the small of his back, with the slightest feather-light touch, and felt a swell of desire as he raised his hips slightly higher, towards her as an offering, with the utmost respect to her character, without even needing to be asked. Rory nodded in approval as she trailed her fingers from his back towards his hip. She stepped in front of him.

The dazzling display of muscular prowess danced in his thighs as Rory placed her fingers upon either side of his buttocks and grasped his waistband. She drew the fabric down slowly, ever so slowly, as she was in no hurry to relieve him of his subjugated posture. No hurry indeed. She'd treasure the vision of him in this position, straining to please her, for many erotic daydreams to come.

Now that the waistband was sufficiently lowered, "Sit," she demanded, as much to finally concede to the strain on his muscles, as to use her words as a further demonstration of her power over him. The scene was nothing if not for the details.

In another moment his last vestige of clothing had been stripped away.

Jess was a cyclist; he had been ever since he'd worked as a messenger many moons ago. His legs had taken to the activity marvelously. Rory ran her palm over the side of his thigh, in the sculpted depression between his hamstrings and quadriceps, as though inspecting the flank of a prize thoroughbred which she was in the market to purchase.

And of course, he was a prize. So many people would dismiss him, unwilling to delve deeper than his standoffish manner would allow, to see the mind and heart that lurked beneath the curt comments and rolling of eyes. What stroke of genius it had been for Rory to open her eyes to him in those early days of their relationship! Because, though Jess was a tough shell to crack, at his heart was a pearl, glossy and precious, more beautiful than any jewel she'd ever known.

With her strappy-shoe-clad toe, a modicum of balance, and an insistent but gentle tap, she kicked his right shin further to his right. Pausing to catch the look in his eyes, she then kicked his left shin left. She stepped back, surveying her handiwork. Jess sat before her, his posture pure submission. His gorgeous arms tied behind him to reveal to her a proud stretch of his pectoral muscles.

Where she now stood, some four feet away from him, she arranged her legs in an A-line and thrust her hip to the side—assuming a pose. One half of her robe trailed down the front of her leg. The other half she drew to the side and placed a hand upon her undraped hip. Deep in her own thoughts, she tapped her fingernails against her hipbone as his flashing eyes trailed over her.

With his knees now spread, it was essentially an all-access pass. A feeling bubbled up inside her, somewhere between nervousness and power, which manifested itself in a flirtatious laugh.

She came to a decision and told him as such with a suggestively smug grin. Rory watched his expression change as she pulled a feather out of her left pocket, fingering it lightly.

"You know why you're here, right?"

"Yes."

"Well? Say it. Tell me why you're here."

"I'm here to please you," he rumbled.

She smiled. "Say it again. Louder."

"I'm here to please you," he growled.

"I almost believe you." She closed the gap between them. "Oh I know you have talents," she conceded as she ran her fingers through his hair, over his head, to tilt his neck back and his face up to hers. "There are certainly ways in which you please me. It's what makes you one of my most treasured possessions. But each day is new, and an opportunity for you to express your undying devotion. Can you please me today? We'll see."

AN: Thank you to siss7 and the anonymous guest who reviewed the last couple of chapters. It really means the world to me that you took the time to review my story!