You heard the front door creak open, followed by the soft rustle of his coat and the tired thud of his bag hitting the floor. Your heart fluttered. He was finally home.

"Baby?" he called out, his voice low and worn out from another long day.

"I'm in the bedroom," you replied sweetly, your tone sugar-laced, innocent as always.

He trudged down the hallway, loosened tie hanging around his neck, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion—until they landed on you. Standing in the middle of the room with a soft, nervous smile, wearing his favorite robe… and nothing else underneath.

You walked up to him and gently took his hand. "Sit," you whispered, guiding him to the chair you had already placed in the center of the room.

"What’s going on?" he asked, brows furrowing slightly in confusion, but he didn’t resist.

You reached behind him, gently tying his wrists to the arms of the chair with satin ribbons—your old hair ties, actually. He gave a soft chuckle, a little amused. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

You gave him a shy smile and stepped back. Your fingers trembled just a little as you reached for the tie on your robe, glancing up at him for reassurance. Your heart pounded in your chest.

His gaze softened, but the hunger behind it only deepened.

"Continue, love," he said, voice low and warm, "Let me see how perfect you are."

And then you started to sway. Slowly, teasingly, letting the robe slip off one shoulder… then the other. His eyes widened, exhaustion forgotten in a blink as he tugged against the ties, jaw clenched.

You climbed onto his lap, legs straddling his, the thin fabric of your lingerie pressing against his slacks. His breath hitched.

"You’re not tired anymore, are you?" you whispered with a shy smile, stepping closer, hips rocking gently, purposefully.

He gave a low, breathless laugh. "Not even a little. You’re going to finish what you started. And when I’m free... you won’t get to walk straight tomorrow"