Now, here they were, alone in Kingsley's bedroom. And she was going to hurt him. And she'd never done anything like this before in her life. Where did she start?
She took a step back and looked Kingsley up and down. He needed something. Not a collar, but something, something to make everything different between them.
"How do you feel about blindfolds?" she asked.
"I don't mind them, but I'd rather see you."
Stepping back in front of him, she started to unbutton his vest. She'd undressed him before, at his command, but never of her own volition. He stood there, still and submissive, letting her pull the vest down and off his arms. She thought about folding it, thought about hanging it up. This was part of one of Kingsley's sexiest Regency-style suits, after all. And likely, one of his most expensive. Instead, she paused, looked at it, and then dropped it on the floor.
"You're more like him than you can possibly know," Kingsley said.
To which Eleanor replied, "Don't speak until spoken to."
Kingsley bowed his head in apology. She felt something new surging through her veins, something sweet and spiked and utterly intoxicating.
Power.
Kingsley remained still as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers. He had such a beautiful body — all lean muscle and old scars — that she couldn't stop herself from kissing his naked shoulder as she pushed his shirt down his arms. First, a kiss on the naked shoulder; then, on the naked bicep. Then, the naked forearm and the naked wrist.
The naked wrist.
She left him standing there while she went down on her hands and knees by the bed. She pulled out a suitcase and opened it up. Inside was bondage equipment — ropes, adjustable spreader bars, cuffs, and collars.
And gauntlets.
She took out two black leather gauntlets and laid them on the bed. She'd seen male submissives at The Eighth Circle wearing various sorts of leather. Bicep cuffs, chest harnesses, but her favorite were the gauntlets. They looked so medieval, like something a knight would wear under his armor. And after a battle, he'd strip down to nothing but the dirt and sweat and the leather braces on his wrists.
Eleanor lifted Kingsley's arm and held it against her chest. She wrapped the brace around his forearm and laced it.
"You like leather?" he asked. His voice was soft and the gentleness of his tone made her even more nervous.
"Yeah, I do. On men, especially."
"Why did you never tell me?"
She glanced up at him. "You never asked."
Kingsley narrowed his eyes at her. "I should have asked. What other secrets are you keeping in here?"
He touched her temple and let his fingers trail down until they rested on her chest, under her shirt and over her heart.
"Lots of secrets," she whispered.
"Tell me all your secrets. Tell me everything you want."
"You," she said. "Like this."
"Like what?"
"Submissive to me."
"You've fantasized about this?" he asked. "About me submitting to you?"
