Rohan stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at Priya as she sat there in her simple cotton nightgown, the fabric soft against her skin and the faint scent of her jasmine soap still lingering in the air of their bedroom. The room was dim, only a single lamp on the side table casting a warm yellow glow across the sheets. He had planned this for weeks, watching the way she blushed whenever he spoke of control, the way her eyes widened when he mentioned binding her wrists even in passing. Tonight he would stop talking about it and make it real.

He held the long strip of dark silk scarf in one hand and the soft cotton ropes in the other. Priya’s eyes flicked from the scarf to the ropes and then back to his face. Her lips parted slightly.