In the bedroom, I opened the locked drawer in my nightstand and took out the items I had never shown anyone I cared about this much, soft black leather cuffs and a slender, supple whip made of braided suede. Ava’s eyes widened, but she didn’t flinch.
I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her between my knees.
“These are for play,” I explained calmly. “The cuffs are soft. They won’t hurt. The whip is for sensation…. light at first. Nothing extreme tonight. You say ‘red’ and everything stops immediately. You say ‘yellow’ if you need to slow down. Understand?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “I understand.”
I searched her face for any sign of fear. There was only nervous excitement and trust.
“Strip for me,” I said gently. “Then lie on the bed, arms above your head.”
She did as I asked,
