He cupped one perfect round in his hand, running his thumb over the point that projected into the lace. He moved his fingers to pinch it, but she stepped back. It took Herculean effort not to jump up and follow. Releasing her cuffs, she turned away from him and her blouse fell in a pool on floor. He paid it no mind, focusing on the slope of her back, the dip of her spine, the swell of her hips. His fingers itched to hold those hips, pull them back onto himself, grind into them.
She was able to pull his eyes from her behind easily. Her fingers were back, working the clasp of her bra. She pushed the two halves together and it came apart, like magic. There one minute, gone the next. Instead he saw more of her glowing brown skin.
She turned back, the flimsy lace still hanging from her shoulders. Her breasts sagged very slightly, freed from their confines. His mouth was a little dry and he licked his lips. Desperate for her to remove the lace and give him full view of those blessed breasts.