Ronan's POV
I moved to the straps suspended above the bench. I took one down, the leather soft, well-worn. I brought it to her, securing her wrist to a point on the bench. Then the other wrist. Her arms were stretched slightly above her head, her body completely open, completely mine.
She made no sound, no struggle. Only a slight tremble in her hands, a testament to the intensity of the moment.
"Your control," I stated, my fingers caressing her bare back, tracing the line of her spine. "Is mine."
Then, I reached for a small, silver crop. It was slender, with a soft thud at the tip. Not for pain, but for sharp, precise sensation. I brought it to her skin, just below her shoulder blade.
Tap.
A small gasp escaped her.
Tap. Tap.
The rhythm was slow, deliberate. Each touch is a question
