he whispers against my throat.
I nod, my eyes closed, and relish his lips on me. He
turns me round once more and picks up the end of the tie.
“Come,” he says, tugging gently, leading me over to the
chest where the rest of the box’s contents are on display.
“Anastasia, these objects.” He holds up the butt plug.
“This is a size too big. As an anal virgin, you don’t want to
start with this. We want to start with this.” He holds up his
pinky finger, and I gasp, shocked. Fingers . . . there? He
smirks at me, and the unpleasant thought of the anal fisting
mentioned in the contract comes to mind.
mentioned in the contract comes to mind.
“Just finger—singular,” he says softly with that uncanny
ability he has to read my mind. My eyes dart to his. How
does he do that?
“These clamps are vicious.” He prods the nipple
clamps. “We’ll use these.” He places a different pair of
clamps on the chest. They look like giant black hairpins,
but with little jet jewels hanging down. “They’re
adjustable,” Christian murmurs, his voice laced with gentle
concern.
I blink up at him, wide-eyed. Christian, my sexual
mentor. He knows so much more about all this than I do.
I’ll never catch up. I frown. He knows more than me
about most things . . . except cooking.
“Clear?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper, my mouth dry. “Are you going to tell
me what you intend to do?”
“No. I’m making this up as I go along. This isn’t a
scene, Ana.”
“How should I beha一ve?”
His brow creases. “However you want to.”
Oh!
“Were you expecting my alter ego, Anastasia?” he
asks, his tone vaguely mocking and bemused at once. I
blink at him.
“Well, yes. I like him,” I murmur. He smiles his private
smile and reaches up to run his thumb down my cheek.
“Do you now,” he breathes and runs his thumb across
my lower lip. “I’m your lover, Anastasia, not your Dom. I
love to hear your laugh and your girlish giggle. I like you
love to hear your laugh and your girlish giggle. I like you
relaxed and happy, like you are in José’s photos. That’s
th
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