The first time I saw it, the sleek black harness lying delicately on the silk bedsheet. My pulse kicked like a drum. I didn't know if it was fear, excitement, or both.
Riley sat on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, watching me with that unreadable smile she always wore when she was about to change my world.
"You said you wanted to try something new," she said. "I don't force. I invite."
She always phrased it like that, an invitation. Like I had a choice, like I hadn't been secretly fantasizing about this moment since the first time I walked into our shared apartment and saw her in nothing but a sports bra and boxers.
I swallowed hard, glancing between her and the harness. "I didn't think you'd actually bring it home."
"Well," she said, standing up and slowly walking toward me, "you should know by now, I take fantasies seriously."
Her hand came to rest gently on my cheek. She didn't rush. She never did. That was Riley's power she made you wait until desire became unbearable. Until it ached in the chest more than the body.
"I've never done this," I whispered.
"I know." Her fingers threaded through my hair, tugging lightly, grounding me. "That's why I'm going slow."
The light in her room was low just a single candle flickering on the nightstand, casting gold over her caramel skin and dark eyes. I felt seen, held in place by more than just her touch.
She stepped back, picking up the harness.
"Do you want to watch, or help me put it on?"
My throat was dry. "Watch," I breathed.
Riley smirked. She turned, giving me a deliberate view of her strong back, of the way her hips rolled as she stepped into the straps. She fastened the buckles with expert ease, like she'd done it a dozen times before maybe she had. That thought made my heart pound.
But when she turned around again, all I saw was her. Not experience. Not history. Just Riley steady, calm, and waiting for me.
She crossed the room slowly and cupped my face in both hands.
"I don't want you to be scared of what you want," she whispered.
"I'm not scared," I whispered back. "I just… I want to do it right."
"There's no right," she said. "There's only now."
And then she kissed me.
It wasn't rushed. It wasn't wild. It was soft, exploratory, like a hand gliding over silk. Her lips brushed mine again and again, giving me time to catch up, to breathe her in. I felt every beat of her heart through the kiss steady, grounding, patient.
When I opened my mouth to her, she didn't devour me. She tasted me, letting the moment stretch into something heavy and delicious. Her hands wandered not to claim, but to cradle, exploring me like a secret worth uncovering slowly.
As she guided me backward onto the bed, I shivered not from cold, but from surrender.
She straddled me gently, lips never leaving mine.
"Tell me if you want to stop."
"I don't."
She smiled, pressing a kiss to my temple, then lower.
What followed wasn't just about pleasure. It was about trust. About giving someone the power to take you somewhere you've never been emotionally, mentally, and yes, physically.
We didn't race. We unraveled.
And when the last of the candle's flame flickered out, I realized I wasn't just in her bed.
I was in her world.
And in Riley's world, nothing was rushed, nothing was careless. Every movement had intention, every pause carried weight. She hovered above me in the darkness, the silhouette of the harness brushing my skin in ways that made my pulse stumble.
"Still with me?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear.
"Yes," I breathed, though my voice cracked with nerves and hunger tangled together.
She laughed softly, not mocking, but tender, like she was savoring how new this was for me. "Good. Stay with me."
Her hands slid down my arms, pinning me lightly against the sheets, not with force but with presence. It was enough to remind me I was exactly where she wanted me. My chest rose and fell too fast, but she matched my rhythm, grounding me again.
The harness pressed between us, solid and unfamiliar. But her kisses… those were familiar, anchoring me as I trembled beneath her. She pulled back just enough for her lips to hover over mine, her dark eyes searching mine in the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the blinds.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
"I do."
Her smile was slow, wicked, but also strangely gentle. "Then let me show you."
And she did.
Every touch, every brush of her lips, every shift of her body was deliberate. She guided me not just through sensation, but through surrender. When I gasped, she paused, waiting until my eyes fluttered open again. When I arched into her, she steadied me, coaxing me deeper into the rhythm of her world.
The harness became less an object and more an extension of her, a bridge between us, blurring the line between giver and receiver. And for the first time, I understood what she meant when she said there was no right. Only now.
I lost time in that now. Lost myself. There was only Riley's voice in my ear, murmuring things I couldn't fully remember later but that made my body respond like it had been waiting for this language all along.
When it was over, or maybe not over, but when we finally collapsed into each other, I buried my face against her chest, trembling, breathless, overwhelmed. She stroked my hair, pressing lazy kisses to my forehead.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
I nodded. Words wouldn't come. My body was too full, too emptied, too alive.
She chuckled quietly, almost to herself. "Told you I take fantasies seriously."
And in that moment, wrapped in her warmth, the faint leather scent of the harness still lingering between us, I realized something else.
Riley hadn't just invited me into her bed. She'd invited me into a part of myself I'd been too afraid to name.
And I wasn't leaving her world anytime soon.