Rosie pants once her mouth is free, simultaneously glad she can't see what she looks like and curious to know the kind of obscene picture she makes, all flushed cheeks and swollen lips, the blindfold pressed against her eyes and her wrists looped with rope. "Anywhere but my face, Nick," she asks, not even sure if it's a thing she can ask for, knowing she's laid so many choices tonight in his far more experienced hands. "Please."