“What happened in that bed? That wasn’t a mistake.” My voice is steady, even if my hands are shaking. “It was perfect. And I’m not gonna let you ruin it. Not with guilt. Not with shame. Not with whatever story you’re about to build to keep yourself from feeling what you felt.”
Her breathcatches.
I rise from the chair, step closer. Keep my voice even. Firm. No anger. Just truth.
“You gave me something back there. You gave me your rawest self. The part you hide from everyone. The part that craves surrender. The part that begs to be seen, stripped bare, owned. And I gave you mine. I saw you. The real you. You didn’t just let me take control. You needed it. And I don’t give a fuck what anyone says—there’s no shame in that.”
Silence.
Just her breathing, shaky and shallow. Just me, forcing the truth down both our throats.
I point toward the bedroom door.
“What happened back there… That’s ours. Not the world’s. Not society’s. Not some goddamn think-piece on consent culture or feminist theory. Sex like that doesn’t happen unless it’s real. Unless it means something.”
She flinches. I don’t care.
I need her to hear me.
She swallows hard. Doesn’t speak.
“I’m not gonna let you turn it into some weird mistake you regret by lunchtime. Because it wasn’t. And I’m not going to apologize for being a man. For wanting control. For getting off on the sound of you choking on my cock while you beg me not to stop.”
She gasps. Her face flushes.
I drive it home.
“I’m not going to be sorry for that. And I’m not going to let you feel ashamed for needing it.”
Silence stretches.
“It was beautiful.”
A beat.
“Like you.”
Her eyes go impossibly wide.
I nod slowly. “And here’s the part you need to understand, Eliza …” I reach to the table, pull the flash drive from where I placed it earlier. Hold it between two fingers.
“This—” I flick it once, softly. “—can wait.”
I set it down. Calm. Controlled.
“You’ve got two choices now.”
I look at her, dead-on. No softness. No games.
“You can sit down. Eat with me. Try to have one fucking real moment where we talk like two people who just wrecked each other.”
Pause.
“Or you can turn around, walk back into that room?—”
Another step toward her. Closer now. My voice drops.
“—and I’ll show you. I’ll put you on your knees and make you remember exactly what you begged for. And I won’t stop until you’re trembling and soaked and can’t deny a damn thing about who you are.”
