Evelyn
I wake up Christmas Day blindfolded. When I move to pull the fabric off my face, I find my hands are tied above my head.
Before I can panic, I lean into the material around my wrists. It’s soft and silky, tied in such a way as to avoid cutting off circulation.
“You have five seconds,” I say, my voice still groggy with sleep, “to reassure me that this is kinky foreplay and not an abduction.”
“If you’d like,” a voice sounds, and I recognize my mate’s voice, “it can be both.”
Weight shifts at the end of the bed near my feet, then Alexander’s large hands wrap around my ankle, lifting my leg high enough for him to kiss my toes. He sucks one into his mouth, and I gasp, surprised by the delightful sensation.
Then something sharp and cold slides along my other leg. It doesn’t cut me,
