In another swift movement the man was now in front of her, holding her hands. She could see him now. He was somewhat taller than Sabriel and was stooping slightly to stare into her eyes. His body was broad and muscular, giving definition to his chest under his open shirt. His long, thick black hair fell free about his shoulders. His skin was pale, but not obsessively so. His features were handsome but also a little severe with a wide, generous mouth, an aquiline nose and eyes that were set slightly close together giving him a vaguely hawk-like quality.
The eyes themselves were hard to focus on. They seemed large and feral, alluring yet uncanny. It was difficult to discern the colour because the eyes seem to at once see right into Sabriel, and to draw her into them, losing her in their darkness. The way they stared at her seemed to strip her bare, open her naked soul to that penetrating gaze.
Wordlessly, he bound a scarlet ribbon around each wrist in turn and then, holding both ribbons, he led her toward the bed. Despite the gloom of the room, her client didn't seem to have trouble navigating the darkness. He gently guided her to the bed, lying her face up on top of the black satin sheets. He then tied the ends of the ribbons to the bed posts, and then tied similar ribbons to her ankles before tying them to the posts also.
The stranger moved out of sight. There were a few moments of silence, broken only by the ticking of a clock and the sound of Sabriel's breathing. She felt more than saw the man walking around the bed, as though watching her from the darkness, inspecting her. Then the gloom parted revealing a larger black candle on a table beside the bed, which the stranger had lit. On the wall above the bed, just above Sabriel's head, was a small wall clock - the source of the ticking that had broken the silence of the room earlier.
The man stood at the foot of the bed. He had removed his waistcoat and now the muscle tone of his shoulders were now properly revealed. The scarlet shirt he wore was of thin yet expensive material with lace edging.
"This will be the last time I ask this of you. Beyond this there is no turning back. For this reason I ask you not just as Sabriel, lady of the night, but by your real name. Cassandra, do you submit yourself entirely to me of your own free will?"
The voice was calm, compelling. He was no longer whispering but the words were soft spoken. Nevertheless they seemed to resonate around the room. The voice itself had an indefinable quality to it that hinted of great knowledge, power, and the promise of dark and carnal pleasures.
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