She hesitates for just a second, then pulls the oversized sweater over her head. Underneath she's wearing a simple black tank top that clings to her curves.
"The tank top too."
Another hesitation, longer this time. Then she strips it off and stands before me in just her leggings and a deep purple bra that does incredible things for her cleavage.
"You're beautiful." I circle her slowly, taking in the warm brown of her skin, the curves she carries with unconscious grace. "Has anyone ever told you that while you were standing still and letting them look?"
"Most men are too busy trying to get to the next step to actually look."
"Their loss." I complete my circuit and stop in front of her. "I'm going to look. I'm going to take my time. And you're going to stand there and let me."
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't move. Doesn't argue. Just holds my gaze with that stubborn defiance that makes me want to break her apart piece by piece.
"Hands behind your back."
She complies. The position pushes her chest forward, puts her on display. I watch her fight the urge to fidget, to cover herself, to take back some of the control she's surrendered.
"Good." I move to the cabinet and select a length of black silk rope. "I'm going to bind your wrists. The rope is soft, won't leave marks if you don't struggle. If you feel numbness or tingling, tell me immediately."
"Okay."
I return to her side and gather her wrists gently, wrapping the rope in careful loops. Not too tight. Secure enough that she can't slip free, loose enough that circulation isn't compromised.
"Pull against it."
She does, testing the bonds. Her expression shifts when she realizes she can't get free.
"How does that feel?"
"Strange." Her voice is lower than before. "Good strange. Like I can stop worrying about what to do with my hands."
"That's the point. You don't have to do anything right now except feel." I guide her toward the padded bench, positioning her so she's bent forward over it with her bound wrists resting at the small of her back. "Color?"
"Green."
I run my hand down her spine, feeling her shiver under my touch. "You've spent your whole life being in charge. Makingdecisions. Carrying the weight of everyone's expectations." My fingers trace the edge of her bra strap. "Right now, you don't have to carry anything. All you have to do is take what I give you."
"What are you going to give me?"
"Whatever you can handle." I unclip her bra with practiced ease, letting it fall away. "And then a little bit more."
She gasps as the cool air hits her bare skin. I palm her breasts from behind, feeling the weight of them, the way her nipples harden against my hands.
"Callum."
"Yes?"
"I need..." She trails off, struggling to find the words.
"Tell me what you need."
"I don't know. More. Something."
"Something isn't a direction, Nadia." I pinch her nipples lightly, and she moans. "Use your words."
"Touch me. Please."
"Where?"
