In the left corner where the light was stood a St. Andrews cross. Before my research, I wouldn’t have known what it was called or what it was used for. On the opposite side, a four-poster bed draped in black sheets anchored the space, the linens crisp, untouched, waiting.
I swallowed, heat coiling low in my stomach, legs pressing together in anticipation.
“Drop the robe.”
I turned toward the voice but turned my eyes downward, not sure what the rules were.
“I told you to do something, Pet,” he growled.
My breath hitched. I slipped the robe off of my shoulders and let it drop to the ground.
My breath caught as my gaze lifted, not able to help myself. He stood leaning against the far wall, tucked into the shadows. I had to fight with myself to keep my arms at my sides instead of covering myself, which is what I really wanted to do. Never in my life had I been this exposed.
He stepped out of the shadows and I swore I forgot to breathe. He was tall, his shoulders broad, every movement of hisdeliberate. Over his head, a black balaclava hid everything but the hard line of his jaw.
Dressed in black leather pants that clung to his thighs like a second skin, the soft gleam catching the low light. A fitted white button-up shirt stretched across his chest, sleeves rolled to his forearms, displaying his tanned forearms, no tattoos in sight. A leather harness crossed over his shoulders added the finishing touches. Even standing still, he radiated restraint—power wrapped in precision. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice or lift a hand to command obedience.
“Eyes down,” he barked.
The command snapped through me. My gaze instantly dropped to the floor, heat crawling up my neck. Was he going to let me forgo the blind fold today? Was that why he was in a mask? I had so many questions but I knew that unless he gave me permission I was to stay silent. It was what he wanted, and all I wanted was to please him.
“You came back,” he said as he circled behind me, his heavy black leather boots echoing with every step.
“Yes, Sir.” I gulped, doing my best to keep my hands at my sides instead of covering up. Even though last week I'd been in a lace teddy, it gave the illusion of coverage instead of everything being out in the open.
He stopped behind me and the air shifted. Warmth radiated off his body, even without his touch. My pulse raced, my core ached, and my nipples pebbled. I was so turned on and he hadn’t even touched me yet. It was something I knew I should examine but in this moment I wouldn't.
He closed the space between us, his body pushing against my back, the scents of leather and bergamot invading my senses. Dark, sophisticated, and totally on brand for Sir.
His hands skimmed down my bare arms. “Look at the wall to the left.”
I hesitated, but when his hands came to rest on my shoulders, I complied, forcing myself to stand still. My stomach dropped. I’d seen the table, but my focus had been on the cross. Now I took it all in. Laid out across the wooden table were several types of impact instruments. Floggers, paddles, and riding crops, all ready, making promises that had goosebumps erupting all over my body. One end had fur-lined cuffs and the other a blind fold.
“What’s your safe word, Pet?”
My gaze returned to the floor. “Red, Sir.”
“That’s a good girl.”
I melted at his praise.
“Do you know what to do?”
“I think so, Sir.”
He’d pointed toward the cross and not the bed, so if I had to guess, that was what he was hinting at.
“Show me.”
I bit my lower lip. I’d never been so aroused in my life, and that was knowing what was coming this time. The first step was the hardest, but after that, it was as if I was in a trance. When I reached the contraption, I turned around and stopped.
He walked up to me and my gaze shifted to the table before going back to his black boots. He stopped in front of me and held out his hand. I slipped my hand in his and he turned me toward the cross. While I wanted to ask why, I followed his rules and kept quiet. He attached my wrist and moved to attach the other, leaving me facing the corner. So much for being able to see him. It wasn’t as if I could make out any of his features except, oh my lord, his legs and arms in his clothing.
It didn’t take long for him to attach my other wrist, then he moved to my ankles. The heels made it challenging, but I managed to balance as I hung on the cross. Sir double checkedto make sure everything was secure. I exhaled as he leaned over me, his lips brushing my ear. He’d taken off the balaclava.
“Your safe word?”
“Red, Sir.” I fought the urge to turn my head to catch a glimpse of my dominant.
