Emma knew what kind of night this would be the moment she stepped through the door.
The room was dimly lit, warm, the scent of leather and musk lingering in the air like an unspoken promise. A single chair sat in the center, a throne of control, draped in deep shadows. And in it, him.
Gabriel.
He was already waiting, legs spread, one hand lazily resting on his thigh, the other curled around the length of a black leather leash. It connected to the thick collar around her throat, the same one he had fastened on her before she left the house. A reminder.
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