I met his look terrified.
“Lass, ye gotta breathe.”
“I can’t!” But even as I said it, I realized his hand wasn’t actually squashing me. Merely holding me in place. It was my fear stilling my breath. I drew a slow unsteady breath then another.
“Good.” He straightened. “More.”
I continued breathing those I was shaking so hard that a metal cup on the table had begun to clatter.
“Ugh.” He groaned in frustration. I felt his foot swing next to mine and push it aside. Then the other along my other foot so they were wide apart while I was bent over the table.
I knew all my most vulnerable parts were open for his access. I started drawing short quaking breaths.
“Now, listen to me. Hear what I’m saying to ye, Lass.”
I closed my eyes trying to focus on his voice to keep from passing out. I co
