Page 43 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

I don’t smile, though it is cute.

When I don’t, he swallows hard. “Would it help you, too?”

The question catches me off guard. It’s a kick to the gut that knocks the wind out of me. I answer with a single nod.

“Okay.”

We stare at each other another long moment before I ask, “Would you rather here or in The Dungeon?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

“It’d save six flights of stairs to do it here, and I have everything I need.”

“Like what?”

“Restraints. A place to restrain you. A tool to make you feel something.”

His lips part, and his eyes go soft. “Okay.”

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

He nods.

“I won’t act without your consent. Say yes.”

“Yes.”

“And you can call me by my name. Sir would feel ridiculous after the week we’ve had.”

“Okay.”

“Since I’ll count this as your first time, I’ll give some options. Clothes on or clothes off?”

“Which would be better?”

I shrug a shoulder. “It’s completely up to you. Ultimately the experience is the same. Without clothes it would be more intense. It would leave marks.”

He gives it a moment’s thought. “Can I start with them on and see?”

“Of course. This next question, I can’t answer for you. If you get aroused, will you want to see that through?”

Christian puts a hand to his throat in a delicate gesture I’ve never seen him use before he ducks his head to the side. His answer is quiet. Almost shy. “Yeah.”

“Then I’d suggest a looser fitting pant.”

His gaze tracks to his suitcase—to those black joggers that have changed my body chemistry. If he puts on the tank, I don’t know what I’ll do.

“I’ll need a few minutes to get ready,” I tell him. “When you are, come into the other bedroom. No need to knock.”

“Okay.”

I turn, hauling in a deep breath as I cross the living room to the third suite. From beneath the overlarge bed, I pull out a drawer full of exactly what I promised him. I unfold a leather mat and place it on the bed, bending it to a forty-five degree angle for him to lie over with his ass up and his head down. I only need four cuffs since I plan to manage his neck myself. Finally, I bring out the softest leather flogger I own. I’m able to wield it well enough to leave a mark, but it’s less harsh than the braided one I use on more experienced submissives.

In case things escalate in a way I’m not expecting, I put a bottle of lube within easy reach and dampen a towel in the en suite, folding it before placing it on the nightstand. I talk a big game about knowing what he needs, but so much of domination is about responding in the moment. I like to be prepared.

He enters the room wearing the tank top—of course—while I’m attaching the wrist restraints to the board.

“Christ,” he whispers, looking around the relatively blank space.

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