October 2012. Zipping up the cool leather boots to within an inch of my knee always sent a delicious shiver racing up my spine. It wasn’t just the temperature of the soft material against my bare flesh, it was what it symbolised; what it made me. It made me his. Alone I sat, framed between pillars either side of the headboard that was almost twice the width of the one at home. Green irises stared back from the mirror on t...