Connor, who always ignored the safeword.
Which is the point of Ben, and of right now.
Ben isn’t comfort. He’s consequence.
He isn't here to coddle me, but to crush me.
To knock out what Andrew woke up in me.
To fuck Andrew out of my bloodstream.
To slam the door on the part of me stupid enough to want more.
To bring me back to how it was before the Baby Contract?—
to Hunter, to Connor?—
when the addiction gripped me by the throat,
held me under, drowned me slow.
And Ben’s going to remind me
why the rules, the contract, the system exists.
But if I’m going to let him fuck me into my trauma,
it’s going to come from this scene I built.
Where I picked the scent, the man, the hour.
So I can hurt on my fucking terms.
So it’smyhands causing it.
I press my forehead to the mattress.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I force myself to breathe through it.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He’s not Raymond.
He’s not Cooper.
He’s not Hunter.
But right now, he gets to be whoever it takes to put me back in my place.
Yeah—
another inhale?—
I’m this desperate.
