Laura’s arms stretched above her head, the soft leather cuffs biting gently into her wrists as the rope held her secure against the ceiling hook. The mahogany desk pressed coolly against her lower back, her skirt still bunched around her hips, exposing the black lace panties that clung to her skin, damp with arousal. The blindfold kept her world dark, amplifying every sound: the faint creak of James’s shoes on the hardwood floor, the soft rustle of his tweed blazer as he moved, the steady ...