’s
brow creases once more.
“Yes, you’re trespassing, but I’m not mad. I hope that
one day you’ll live with me here, and all this”—he gestures
vaguely round the room with one hand—“will be yours,
too.”
My playroom . . . eh? I gape at him—that’s a lot to
take in.
take in.
“That’s why I was in here today. Trying to decide what
to do.” He taps his lips with his index finger. “Am I angry
with you all the time? I wasn’t this morning.”
Oh, that’s true. I smile at the memory of Christian
when we woke, and it distracts me from the thought of
what will become of the playroom. He was such fun Fifty
this morning.
“You were playful. I like playful Christian.”
“Do you now?” He arches an eyebrow, and his
beautiful mouth curves up in a smile, a shy smile. Wow!
“What’s this?” I hold up the silver bullet thing.
“Always hungry for information, Miss Steele. That’s a
butt plug,” he says gently.
“Oh . . .”
“Bought for you.”
What? “For me?”
He nods slowly, his face now serious and wary.
I frown. “You buy new, er . . . toys . . . for each
submissive?”
submissive?”
“Some things. Yes.”
“Butt plugs?”
“Yes.”
Okay . . . I swallow. Butt plug. It’s solid metal—surely
that’s uncomfortable? I remember our discussion about
sex toys and hard limits after I graduated. I think at the
time I said I would try. Now, actually seeing one, I don’t
know if it’s something I want to do. I examine it once
more and place it back in the drawer.
“And this?” I take out a long, black rubbery object,
made of gradually diminishing spherical bubbles joined
together, the first one large and the last much smaller. Eight
bubbles in total.
“Anal beads,” says Christian, watching me carefully.
Oh! I examine them with fascinated horror. All of
these, inside me . . . there! I had no idea.
“They ha一ve quite an effect if you pull them out midorgasm,”
he adds matter-of-factly.
“This is for me?” I whisper.
“For you.” He nods slowly.
“This is the butt drawer?”
He smirks. “If you like.”
I close it quickly, flushing like a stoplight.
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