I see him clearly for the first time. I see that no one has ever taken care of him. I see that he needs me.
I slide the strap back into its keeper, leaving the collar in place. I don’t get a chance to see Elias’s expression because he throws himself at me, burying his face against my throat. He stays like that as I scoop him up into my arms and get to my feet.
I carry him across the office to the elevator and get in. We go down one floor into his private hallway. I take him to his door where I punch in his code. I carry him inside like I did a few days ago. But this time, I’m not going to leave him.
I carry him through the apartment to the bathroom. I turn on the light with my elbow. When I set him down on the closed toilet, he curls toward me, leaning against my leg. I pet his hair. He’s shuddering, and I remember that he still has the toy inside him.
I crouch so I can meet his eyes. I’ve see his darkness and hunger. I’ve seen his submission. But I’ve never seen the vulnerability that I see now.
Things shift around inside me. In my head. In my … heart. All the borders between the parts of myself are broken. I’m everything at once, and it coalesces into something new. And I understand, finally.
Elias isn’t mine just to possess but also to protect. To take care of.
That understanding, I realize now, has been trying to form for a long time. I finally let it.
When I reach for his collar, worry comes back into his eyes.
“You’re still mine,” I reassure him. “You always will be.”
Tears spill from his eyes. As the collar comes free, he pitches into me. I hold him until he relaxes, then I get up and start removing my clothes.
I’m fine until I get to my pants. No one has seen me naked in … a long time. But I can’t take care of Elias fully without being fully with him. So I take them off. I start shaking again, but I just keep moving. I turn on the shower. I’m careful, though, not to let Elias see the scars on my ass. I’m just … not ready.
I go to Elias and hold out my hand. He takes it, but not in the way I intended. He plucks out a shard of glass, which he drops into the nearby trashcan. I take my hand back and pull out another shard because I don’t want him to cut his fingers. I offer my other hand, and he takes it. I put him in front of me and guide him to the shower.
I put him under the spray and soap the washcloth. I start scrubbing his skin. I’m gentle, especially where he scratched himself after I shut him away, alone.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, but he looks away from me, like he’s ashamed of it now. I take hold of his jaw and turn his face so he has to see me when I say again, “I’m sorry.”
I can see that he hears me, and that’s enough. I don’t force a response from him. I just go back to work. His cock hardens as I touch more of him. I’ve edged him all morning and he still has that toy in his ass.
I start getting hard in response. I’ve never been gentle with him during sex. I don’t really know how. So I’m not going to fuck him, but I do want him to come. I wrap my hand around his cock and start stroking. He leans into me in relief. His hands rest on my chest. His fingers flex. I can feel the motions of his body, the way his need builds, but he’s not going to come like this. So I make him sit onthe floor of the shower with me. I get him to straddle me.
He starts frotting me. My mind trips and glitches at first, but I make myself relax. I make myself feel the glide of Elias’s cock against mine. I wrap my uninjured hand around both of us. I don’t think I’ll come, but I don’t need to.
But as Elias whines and grinds on me, as he curls into me with his face at my throat, something strange happens in my body. I start moaning. I start gasping. I start straining up against him. And when he cries out at my throat and his cock kicks against mine, my body seizes tight and I start coming. I cry out and curl into Elias as my cock kicks back against his and we spill all over each other.
There’s panic at the edge of my mind, but I don’t let it in. I’m with Elias, and it feels good.
He relaxes against me. I hold him there. I reach around him and gently pull the toy from his ass. He moans and shudders as I do it.
I let him rest for a while, then I get him up and finish washing him and myself.
I turn off the water and reach outside the shower for a towel. I don’t want to go look for another, so I use the towel to dry him first, then I dry myself.
I keep him in front of me again as we move to the sink. I find the hairdryer. He finds the first aid kit.
He doesn’t say anything—he hasn’t spoken yet, not once since his father appeared in my office—but the look he gives me is clear enough. He thinks my hand looks bad. It’s fine though. I wrap it up with some gauze and tape. Then I put the first aid kit away to make him understand that we’re done with that.
He lets me dry his hair. His eyes are soft. He’s relaxed. It’s nice. I dry my own hair then guide him out of the bathroom. It’s still morning, but I make him get in bed with me.
I need him to rest and reset. I need time to let myself find the shape of my new role. Except … it doesn’t feel like a role. It feels real. It feels right.
I curl around Elias, pulling his ass against me. I hook my arms around him and bury my face in his clean hair.
“You’re mine, Elias Rose,” I tell him, wondering at the name, how he chose it. When his hands curl around my forearm, I feel his acceptance of my claim, but I don’t feel like he really understands what I mean.
So I clarify. “I love you, Elias.”
