Page 39 of Not Safe For Work

“You too.”

I moved my hand up into his hair and claimed another kiss, sliding my tongue between his willing lips as everything about him—his presence, his body heat, his hands on my waist—turned my knees to water. I was still in control, but damn, kissing him was a good way to warm up to the idea of losing control.

But that wasn’t why he was here, and it wasn’t why we were doing this. I was a Dom, for God’s sake, and I would stay in control.

I broke the kiss and forced myself not to show that I was out of breath. “We should go downstairs and get started. Or else I’m going to fuck you right here in this foyer instead of tying you up downstairs.”

“Lead the way,” he said quietly, breathing hard.

I did, taking him down into the basement.

At the dungeon door, he paused. “Am I… Is this where you want me to undress?”

“Did I tell you to undress?”

“N-no.” He gulped. “Just…uh…”

“I’ll tell you when it’s time.” I pushed open the door and waved him in.

“Sorry,” he murmured, and stepped into the room.

In the middle of the floor, I halted, and nodded downward. Immediately, and with only the slightest wince, he went to his knees.

“Good.” I stroked his cheek. “You’re ready for this, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Ready to play around with a few toys and some bondage?”

He swept his tongue across his lips. “Absolutely.”

That kind of enthusiasm—as if he were this close to trembling with excitement—turned me on like nothing else.

“Before we go too far,” I went on, “tell me the safe word.”

“Red.”

“Good,” I whispered. “Stand up.”

His eyes never leaving mine, he rose, and once he was on his feet, I slid my arm around his waist and kissed him. He didn’t put his arms around me, but he returned my kiss. No, that wasn’t right. He welcomed my kiss, his mouth surrendering to the gentle demands of my own. Even his kiss was made of submission. My God. I couldn’t believe this man was mine for tonight.

And if we kept kissing like this, I’d wind up fucking him right here in the middle of the floor again. Which was hot. Ridiculously hot. But I had other plans for him tonight.

I pried myself off him and forced my voice to stay even despite the fact that I was out of breath. “This way.”

I led him across the room to the bed. His eyes darted toward the cuffs, but then went right to the box.

I pulled it to the edge of the mattress, unsnapped the latches and lifted the lid. “Pick your poison.”

He gazed into the box, and his eyebrows climbed.

I was a big fan of Wartenberg wheels and had several variations of them laid out on the gold satin liner. They were all roughly the same—a pencil-sized handle with a spiny wheel attached to one end—but some were sharper than others, and some had multiple wheels while others only had one.

“You ever experienced one of these?”

Eyes still fixed on the box, he shook his head.

I pulled one of the single wheels free and held out my other hand. “Give me your arm.”