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The Mistress had certainly turned not one, but two lives around in a month.
He was intrigued to see where time would take them.
*
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.
They were really going to do this, and she was really going to be tied up at Saul’s mercy.
In a way, she supposed it couldn’t be much different to having sex in his bed. They’d experimented with his hands restraining her, which wasn’t too bad. It helped that she loved him, that her trust was continuing to evolve.
Caera stepped nearer to the contraption constructed out of rounded metal bars, running her palm along the cool surface. The whole thing was taller than her, but it was half again as wide as she was.
There were pins holding it together, designed so that most of the bars could be moved and repositioned wherever they were needed. She poked the flat leather seat—at least, she thought it was a seat—and wondered how many submissives had sat on it before her.
Big silver rings jangled as her fingers skimmed over them, but only a few of the bars had them.
Her mind drove itself to the brink of insanity trying to work out all the ways a person could be strapped to, over, and through those bars. So many possibilities, both fascinating and alarming.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as Saul approached. He walked past her and lifted a small table from near the wall, carrying it in one hand, and set it down within reach of the structure. One by one, he laid out his implements in a neat fashion, never once looking at her.
Caera studied his toys, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth.
Leather cuffs with sheepskin lining and D-rings.
Small lengths of chains with snap hooks.
A palm-sized bottle of lube.
A thick stainless steel butt plug, as long as her fingers and as thick as two of them.
Condoms.
Flogger.
Her skin crawled at the sight of the last item. It had been arousing to watch Thane wield a similar toy on Connie, but she wasn’t convinced the long fall of knotted strands was a good fit for her. Already her shoulders were tightening, remembering the hot streaks of fire that had burned scars into her flesh.
She whimpered.
“Don’t worry so much, little rabbit. There’s too much weight on those slim shoulders already.”
When Saul shifted to face her, Caera could see the change in him. He was still the handsome guy with the eyes she could stargaze in, the man her heart was tied to, but his body language was sharper, his spine straighter, his shoulders broader.
This was a man who knew his power and how to brandish it.
“There is nothing in this scene that you cannot handle, Caera. It all stops with a word. From the moment you set your hands in mine, my only priority is you. Nothing else in this room exists but you.” Christ, even his eyes were shadowed with dominance. “Will you trust me, little rabbit?”
Both of his hands waited in front of him, palms up. Some of his lifelines were deep, others shallow, but what she noticed first and foremost was how steady they were. Not a twitch, not a shake. He wasn’t afraid of what he was, so why should she be a slave to her own fears?
Closing her eyes, she gave herself to him.
“Keep them closed, Caera. Take deep breaths and find the center. There’s nothing to be scared of here.” His fingers curled around her wrists, sliding up her forearms to her elbows. Back down again. Ever so slowly, he raised her hands above her head. “Stay just like this.”
“Yes, Sir. I can do that.”
“I know you can.”
She shivered as fingers tickled the outside of her thighs before grasping the hem of the oversized T-shirt she wore. Cool air kissed her skin as the material rose up, exposing her lower back and belly, her midsection, her breasts. Then it was pulled over her head, over her arms, and she was halfway naked in a room full of strangers.
