Interlude

Her fingers shook with excitement, with arousal, as she caressed him, and she shuddered with pleasure when he flinched.

The bent position was awkward, his elbows and wrists bound tightly together, and secured to a hook in the ceiling. It forced him to bend forward, the pressure on his shoulder joints painful, but that was the least of his worries.

She smiled, gently, and he shuddered. The terror in his eyes was a feast.

She ran the back of her hand down his cheek and he whimpered. Her fingertips traced his lips and he opened them obedient, eyes closing tightly in fear but more afraid of not obeying. 

It was her very tenderness that was the warning. 

Only when she was the most tender, the most loving, did her eyes hold the most madness.