"Close the door."
I obey without thinking.
"Come here."
I walk to him on unsteady legs, stopping when we're inches apart. His hand comes up to cup my jaw, tilting my face toward his.
"What's your safe word?"
"Red."
"And if you need me to slow down?"
"Yellow."
"Good." His thumb traces my lower lip. "Tonight I'm going to push you harder than this morning. I'm going to blindfold you so you can't anticipate what's coming. I'm going to use my hands and my mouth and that paddle on you until you're begging. And then I'm going to fuck you until neither of us can think straight."
My breath shudders out. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, sir."
His smile is dark with promise. "Take off the robe."
I untie the sash and let the silk slide off my shoulders, pooling at my feet. His gaze travels down my body with open appreciation, lingering on my breasts, my hips, the wetness I can already feel gathering between my thighs.
"You're trembling."
"I'm nervous."
"Nervous isn't the same as scared. Are you scared?"
I consider the question honestly. "No. I'm excited. The nervous and the excited feel the same in my body."
"That's adrenaline. Your system preparing for something intense." He picks up the blindfold. "This is going to make it more intense. Take away your sight, and everything else gets sharper. Touch, sound, sensation. You won't be able to predict what's coming next."
"I usually need to predict what's coming next."
"I know. That's why we're taking it away." He steps behind me and settles the blindfold over my eyes. "Tell me your color."
Darkness. Complete and soft and terrifying in the best way.
"Green."
His hands settle on my shoulders, warm and grounding. Then they slide down my arms, raising goosebumps in their wake. I feel him circle me slowly, the heat of his body appearing and disappearing as he moves.
"You're so responsive." His voice comes from somewhere to my left. "Every nerve on alert, trying to figure out where I am."
I turn toward the sound, and he laughs softly.
"Stop trying to anticipate. That's not your job tonight." His breath ghosts across the back of my neck. "Your job is to feel. To take what I give you. To trust that I know exactly what you need."
Something soft trails down my spine. The rope, maybe, dragged featherlight across my skin. I shiver and resist the urge to turn around.
"Hands in front of you."
I extend my arms, and he binds my wrists with practiced efficiency. The rope is different from this morning, rougher and thicker, leaving me more aware of every point of contact.
