She stepped back, inviting him into a space that smelled of expensive leather and sandalwood. The room was a "container," as she called it—a place where the rules of the outside world, where he had to be the "Alpha" and make every decision, ceased to exist.
"In this room," Sade said, guiding him toward a bench, "you don’t have to build anything. You don’t have to be the boss. You only have to listen."
"You're late, Arthur," she said. Her voice wasn't a growl; it was a cool, steady frequency that immediately made the chaotic noise in his head go quiet. "I’m sorry, Mistress," he whispered.
She stepped back, inviting him into a space that smelled of expensive leather and sandalwood. The room was a "container," as she called it—a place where the rules of the outside world, where he had to be the "Alpha" and make every decision, ceased to exist.
"In this room," Sade said, guiding him toward a bench, "you don’t have to build anything. You don’t have to be the boss. You only have to listen."
"You're late, Arthur," she said. Her voice wasn't a growl; it was a cool, steady frequency that immediately made the chaotic noise in his head go quiet. "I’m sorry, Mistress," he whispered.
