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Her eyes snapped to mine.

“You say that as though it explains everything.”

“They clamp on. They sting at first, then make you more sensitive.”

Her gaze dropped to the box again and settled on the plug.

“And that?” She gestured toward it.

“For your ass.”

Her eyes widened just enough to make me smile.

“Oh.”

“These are beginner toys.”

Her head snapped up. “Beginner?”

“Aye.”

“There’s worse?”

“Better.”

“That depends entirely on perspective.”

“It does.”

I glanced at the few things in the box. “There’s a lot more for adults to enjoy than these if you’re open to it. Different toys, restraints, furniture made specifically for this kind of play. You should see Lucian’s playroom.”

Her brows drew together.

“The room upstairs?”

“Yes.”

“The one I thought might be for children?”

I smiled. “That would be the one.”

She stared at me. “You told me to ask Scarlett what kind of playroom it was.”

“And apparently you never did.”

“No.” Her gaze narrowed. “You could have simply told me.”

“Where would the fun have been in that?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Keep calling me that and find out what happens.”

She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the box. “So what exactly is in this playroom?”

I shifted closer and ran my hand slowly up her thigh.

“The point isn’t what’s in the room, Mouse. It’s what having the room lets me do to you.”