“Well, I was thinking that...because this is a special occasion,” her smile a little lopsided, a little rueful, “and you have done a lot. You've done so much, and I know I've been...even for me, difficult.”

It's a high bar, but she's pushed it lately. She knows. (And will again—)

Above her head, in his grip, her fingers flex and she tilts her head, just a little. Enjoys this moment, while it lasts.

“I've decided to be very gracious and accommodating.” Has she. “And you are welcome to take over whenever you'd like,” generous, from her position best described in the present moment at 'at his mercy' (a comfortable place to be, when she is so familiar with the nature thereof), “you know I never object to a firm hand. But...”

A little wrinkle of her nose, like she can't imagine her own sentimentality, even when expressed very sexually,

“Undress. And let me be sweet to you.”