“Until we know our greatest weakness, we’ll never know our greatest strength.”
“Who said that?”
I shrugged. “Someone dead probably.” I turned, opened the door to the closet, then with a quick flick of my finger, I turned on the light inside. She watched me; watched my every step as I backed into the closet, dragging a chair behind me to the farthest wall. Her eyes were peculiarly feral with a savage, predatory gleam I hadn’t seen in her before. Slowly, they dipped down my body as I lowered into the chair, spreading my legs and getting comfortable. Her unguarded gaze landed at my hips before lingering on my cock for an extra moment. Then she blinked, and it passed. The lustful, hungry gaze was gone. Replaced with a stony indifference that I knew was a complete and utter act.
“Green light,” I said, starting the game. Oxygen stalled in my lungs as she brushed her right index across the cameo at the center of her throat and took her first step inside the closet.
Marly ran her hands along the sleeves of my cashmere suits at the front of the closet.
“Green light,” I said again. The suits were the least interesting thing in the damn closet. If she wanted to examine suits, we could do that at fucking Barney’s.
She took the hint, stepping deeper inside and picking up several of the paddles. She lifted a wooden one off the wall, shifting it from one hand to the other, then swung it around, as if to hit someone invisible in front of her. When she was done, she put it back on the hook.
On the shelf below the paddles was an organizer for smaller objects. She peeked inside, shifted a few things around and took a step to move on.
“Yellow light,” I warned.Go back. Search deeper.
She paused, stepping back and looking once more, opening the box that housed a new set of Ben Wa balls. I never bothered cleaning those… they were gifts given to each new submissive. And when they were finished, I bought a new set to keep in my closet for my next submissive.
The box of new Ben Wa balls had a ribbon on it and a handwritten tag that said ‘For Marly.’ She flipped over the tag and looked up at me before returning her attention to the box. She looked curiously at the balls as she opened the lid—they weren’t the silver kind most people knew of. They were silicone and ribbed both for better grip inside and also for a more enjoyable experience. She closed the box, leaving it on the counter and lifted a cock ring. The lines of her throat visibly tightened. Oh, Jesus. Maybe I didn’t think this whole idea through. Because seeing the sweet, innocent Marlena holding my bondage toys—her fingers around a ring that had sheathed my dick…Nope, don’t go there. I clamped my eyes shut, shaking the thoughts off like a dog shaking water off after a cold bath. Because that’s exactly what I fucking needed; to be doused with cold water. She put the cock ring back down and wiped her hand on her jeans.
I almost laughed at that. Here I was, turned on at her exploring, while she was so disgusted, she was wiping her hands of me. Literally. She didn’t quite look as deeply in that box as I wanted, but that was okay. There was time. Time for her to learn about one of my favorite toys later. And she had found her gift—that was what was important.
The game continued like that, with lots of green lights and yellow lights. It wasn’t until she came upon Layla’s collar again that I felt the sweat gathering at my hairline. I knew this moment was coming and yet, it was still hard as fuck to watch. And sit there helplessly.
She touched the soft leather collar briefly, her hands resting momentarily at the diamond studs. But much quicker than last night, she moved on.
No. It was too fast. She’d been so curious before and now? She must have been stifling that curiosity to try to protect me. “Yellow light.”
Her brows shot up to her hairline and her eyes bounced between me and the collar. “Yellow. Light,” I said again.
She picked up the collar, holding it in her palms, bouncing it around. Then, she put it to her own neck and wrapped it around over her choker. Securing it in place, she stretched her neck from side to side, feeling it out. It was a beautiful collar, but on Marly? It wasn’t right. The antique choker I bought was made for her. This collar was clunky and took away from her delicate curves. I’d been so scared of that collar. For two years, it represented my failed marriage and no one who wore it after Layla had been good enough for it. But now?Itwasn’t good enough for Marly.
She didn’t take it off, but continued deeper into the closet. At the very back, corsets hung in a line beside me. Marly was almost done, almost reaching where I was sitting—almost finished exploring when a curious frown dipped her face. She leaned over my shoulder and goddamn if my cock didn’t respond as her breasts brushed my bicep. I followed the line of her outstretched hand to the red lace up monoglove hanging at the end of the rack. She lifted it, turning it over in her hands. Her head tilted, brows pinched together and knelt in front of me. She was done.
“Well?” I asked. “Any questions?”
“Two questions,” she said. “The box… the little balls…”
“They’re a gift for you. Your own set of Ben Wa balls. To… play with.”
Her brows jumped, comprehension tightening her face. She knew what Ben Wa balls were. Well, that was interesting.
“And this?” she asked, holding up the monoglove. “It’s too small to be a corset, obviously… and its shape, it’s like a cone—”
“That’s a monoglove. Also known as an armbinder. It locks your elbows and hands behind your back.”
“Can you show me?” she asked. Still on her knees, she held the armbinder up toward me like an offering.
I nodded and stood, helping her to her feet as well. Her stiletto heels sunk into the plush carpet with each step until we were back out in the studio.
Spinning, her tight ass was now facing me as she placed her arms behind her back—legs spread just wide enough to have me sweating through my damn shirt.Shit, shit, shit. This was a really bad idea. I had to keep it together. Stay professional. It was all research, dammit.
“Okay,” I hesitated. Since when did I hesitate? No. I was in control of this situation. And she was an engaged woman—even if their engagement seemed weird to me, I wasn’t about to cross that line. Besides, she had enough rumors circling the mill about her without me adding complications to the mix. I’d heard the murmurings of those rumors, never paying them much attention. And now that I’d spent time with Marly? I knew they were bullshit. I stepped closer, pulling her arms tighter together at the elbow and laced it up, tying it firmly in place.
She spun in the mirror, trying to get a better look. “Wait—” I said. A low purr of sexual energy pulsed between us and as I scooped my hand into Marly’s hair and brushed it away from her neck, she gasped. Rational thought was holding on by a tiny thread, followed loosely by my fucking self-control.
I brushed my finger across Layla’s collar. “Do you like the feel of a collar better than your choker?”
