In the end I didn’t need my key as the door stood ajar to room number two. Dungeon two would’ve been more apt. I slipped through the gap in the door, clutching my purse in front of me. Dim lights illuminated an almost bare room.

Off to one side sat a chaise lounge double the usual width and a little longer. Velvet pillows were piled at one end and blankets at the other. The concrete floor was completely unadorned. Small slits covered the center of the floor. I stared, trying to work out what they were. The ceiling above yielded chains attached to large rings suspended above my head, cuffs attached the ends closest me.  One wall held an array of whips.

I tilted my head to one side, working it through before my lightbulb moment made me blanche.

Oh my fucking furballs, they’re drains.

This room was meant to be hosed down after use.

I shivered, wrapping my arms around me tightly.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

All my cast off worries and warnings suddenly seemed … pertinent.

Something shifted in the shadows at the far end of the room. As I peered into the darkness beyond my line of sight, a bright spotlight flooded the center of the room and left me with weeping eyes. I couldn’t see anything after that and was still swiping away my tears from the light when the door closed behind me. Slow, precise footsteps announced Damon’s presence.

My heart jumped. Thankfully, my body didn’t.

Just put me into a slasher flick right now, please.

I had done everything possible wrong. And I could’ve made yet another list just based on my lack of security and awareness when a not-yet-familiar hand with a cool touch traced lightly over my hip bone, obliterating all those thoughts.

I wanted this. I wanted exactly what was happening now.

If I’m going down in a slasher flick, I hope to hell they have microphones, because I’m going to scream well and loudly at the first cut.

But Damon’s brief caress dropped away.

“Stand over there.” Fingers extended past my vision, pointing to the center of the room. A thin strip of blue fluttered in my periphery as his tie dropped forward.

The beams crisscrossed in a kaleidoscope of shadows and light right at the center, but when I stepped into the middle of the floor, bright white light blared directly into my eyes.

I edged into the very middle of the room, until I became used to it, as much as was possible.

“Too bright?”

I couldn’t see a fucking thing. “I think my makeup might run,” I joked, but it mustn’t have been a problem because there wasn’t a single sound behind me. I sighed. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” Silence met my response, and I jiggled a little on the spot before I realized what I had missed. “Sir.”

Much.

“Good.” His voice came from directly behind me.

If I leaned back, I would be able to touch him, though I didn’t feel his heat this time. More a cold void where the cheeky man had been earlier in  the night. I swallowed and prayed I hadn’t made a huge error in judgment.

Footsteps echoed weirdly around the room, bouncing off the walls and back at me. Something cold and slippery pressed against my bare ankles. I squeaked and shifted.

“Don’t move. Don’t be tempted to survey your surroundings.” The command froze me on the spot. “Look directly into the light, please. If it’s intolerable, ask for a blindfold.”

I didn’t answer him as he didn’t seem to require an answer. Footsteps moved around behind me, as though he stepped away. Something else brushed the backs of my knees. Damon grabbed my ankles, and I swallowed a scream that still tried to emerge from my throat in a warbling little moan.

So not sexy.

He flicked my sandals off my feet and tossed them to one side of the room. A single finger slid along my arch, leaving me writhing and giggling.

The sharp sting from his open palm on my sole silenced me.

“You’re going to be fun to play with, aren’t you,” he mused.

I shivered as he worked the buttons open on the back of my dress and flicked away the ribbon that held the top in place. The material slithered along my thighs where he caught it.

“Step out.”

“Yes, Sir.” My nipples pebbled tighter, almost painful. I wanted to beg him to give me relief and not to touch me at the same time, in case it made the tension worse.

Don’t look never seemed so hard.

His fingers grazed my calves as he threw the dress on my side. A moment later, his breath brushed my bare shoulders. Cool fingertips traced my arms. “Beautiful.”

One word, and my body joined my head in spinning.

“So are you. Sir,” I said without thinking. I twisted at the waist, seeking his mouth on mine, but remembered just in time to keep my gaze forward on the light.

That cursed lamp that would haunt me in the following weeks.

His soft laugh puffed around me. “You promised me you wouldn’t look, or move. Are you unable to hold to your promise?”

I nibbled on my lip. I got the impression I’d used up my  only freebie by accident. Did I need that blindfold? I never had been that kid who looked for Santa when I wasn’t supposed to, preferring to choose to believe the lie and enjoy the magic of the moment. I never tried to search for the tooth fairy either. Was this any different?

More than anything, I wanted to do what Damon asked. Needed.

I shook my head. “No. I’ll be…” I found I was unable to finish my sentence.

“Good girl.” He trailed those cold fingers across my rib cage, brushing the very lowest swell of my breasts. My nipples ached as he tapped my feet out a little more. His shadow impaired the light for a moment. Then clicks attached my ankles to the floor. He raised my hands over my head, attaching my wrists to the shackles there, too, until I stood helpless and panting.