"You're going to stand here," he said, "and you're going to take what I give you. And if it becomes too much, you say 'red.' Do you understand?"
"R…r…red," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
"Good girl."
His hands moved to her trousers. He unbuttoned them slowly, teasingly, his knuckles brushing against her stomach with each movement. Then he pulled them down—over her hips, down her thighs, past her knees. She stepped out of them when he commanded, leaving her in nothing but the lace bra and a matching pair of panties that suddenly felt scandalously small.
Caleb stepped back. She heard him move, heard something being placed on the bed. Then his hands were on her again, guiding her forward, bending her over the edge of the mattress.
Her bound hands pressed against the comforter.
