I hold her gaze.
"I'm being completely transparent. Use the safe word if you need it—I mean that. But know that your choice tonight tells me how fast we can move. How much you can handle. How deep I can push."
Emmaleen's hands are trembling now.
Not from fear, I realize.
From rage.
"You're betting I won't use it just to prove something to you."
"I'm betting you'll make the choice that's right for you in the moment." I gesture toward the implements she selected. "Whether that's pushing through discomfort to discover what's on the other side, or recognizing your limits and protecting yourself."
"And you don't care which one I choose."
"I care that you choose honestly."
She barks out a laugh—short, sharp, edged with hysteria.
"Honest. That's rich coming from you."
"I've never lied to you, Emmaleen."
"You've never told me the whole truth either."
Fair point.
I rise from the throne and press up against her. "Then let me be completely honest right now." I cup her face in both hands, forcing her to hold my gaze. "I want to mark you. I want to hear you count every drop of wax, every adjustment of the clamps, every strike of the crop. I want to watch you process pain and transform it into pleasure."
My thumbs stroke along her cheekbones.
"But more than that, I want to know what you're truly capable of. And the only way to find that out is if you have complete control over when to stop."
"That's not fair."
"Nothing about this is fair, little one."
The endearment slips out before I can stop it.
Emmaleen's breath hitches. Her pupils dilate further.
She likes it.
Fuck.
I drop my hands and step back, reclaiming the distance I need to think clearly.
Christ. This game is going to destroy us both.
"The clamps," I say quietly. "Hand them to me."
She bends to retrieve them from the floor, and I watch the way her body moves—fluid despite the tremor in her hands, graceful despite the fear radiating off her in waves.
When she straightens and holds them out, our eyes meet.
Hers are glassy. On the edge of tears. I’m surprised she has any left after yesterday’s river.
I take the clamps. "These are adjustable," I tell her, examining the mechanism. "I'm going to put them on carefully.I need to find the right tension—enough that you feel it, but not so much that we cause actual injury."