I married Simon because the contract let me control everything about him, from the inheritance down to the moments when I allow his body any release. His quiet obedience was exactly what I needed to keep my own vulnerabilities sealed tight.
But every night ends in the bedroom doorway of our apartment, with him at the edge and my permission withheld. He waits there for a word I have not decided to give. His jaw clenches, his breathing fractures, and I feel the dangerous pull of keeping him exactly there.
Every time I deny him I tell myself it strengthens my hold. The truth is it might be the one thing that makes me face the trust I have always refused to give.
