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He looked at me for a long moment then his eyes dropped to the robe. A cocky smile eased onto his handsome face and my stomach dipped again.

“Take it off.”

My fingers curled into my palms but I didn’t move right away. My heart was thumping like crazy, and when he narrowed his eyes and dropped his chin, I swallowed hard and yanked at the belt, shrugged out of the robe, and held it out to him. He took it from my hands, turned, opened the door, and stepped aside to let me in.

He closed the door behind us and I waited.

“Where do you want to begin?”

He was giving me a choice, sort of.

When my eyes kept darting around the room, he gave me that look again, controlled and commanding. One brow lifted in a silent demand so I pushed out a short breath and turned to the cross before I glanced at him again. He smiled arrogantly and nodded.

“Go.”

I turned and walked toward it. Each step made my pulse pound harder, my skin was tingling and my clit was throbbing. I was so damn out of my element that it wasn’t until that very moment that I processed I was completely naked while he was still in lounge pants. He was looking at my ass.

It’s a nice ass, girl, let him look…

I stood in front of the cross with my back to it so I was facing him. He crossed the room and placed my robe on the dresser then came to me with that cocky confident stride that screamed control while I was unraveling and he hadn’t even touched me yet.

“Good choice,” he murmured. “This demands complete surrender.”

His fingers grazed my jaw and his eyes searched my face.

“Nervous?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.”

His smile was cocky.

“Nerves mean you’re present and you won’t just be going through the motions.” He gripped my chin and tilted it up. “You’re mine in here. My responsibility. My pleasure.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He stepped closer and I tensed when my nipples brushed his chest. They were already hard so the feeling made my stomach clench.

“Arms up.”

I raised them slowly and he took his time lifting the padded leather cuffs, which were cool against my wrists, but his fingers were warm and they lingered, relaxing me some while he fastened each strap.

“Breathe,” he said softly.

I exhaled but it didn’t do a damn thing to help my nerves.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured. His hand lightly moved over my ribs and down my side.

I swallowed and my thighs pressed together. He kneeled to secure my ankles and his fingers grazed the insides of my calves, up toward my thighs. He dropped his hand and secured the cuffs around my ankles. Before he stood, he kissed the inside of my thigh and my body jerked. I felt different—exposed, on display, owned. As much as that should have made me panic, it didn’t. I felt needy. I was already slick, my nipples were incredibly hard, and my skin felt sensitive.

His fingers glided down my collarbone to my chest and across my nipples.

“You like being on display like this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”