“Combined with restraints?”
“Eventually.”
“Orgasm control?”
My thighs pressed together hard.
“Yes. God yes.”
The words came breathless.
“How much control?”
I hated how intimate the question felt. Hated how badly I wanted to answer.
“I want you to decide when I come.”
Sal went very still.
The air between us seemed to contract.
“And if I decide you wait?” he asked.
Heat pulsed through me.
“Then I wait.”
His eyes were almost black now.
My body felt open and aching despite the fact he had not touched me once.
“Edging?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Denial?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“How long?”
“We negotiate each time.”
“Good.”
There it was.
One word.
My breath caught. A hot pulse moved through me so sharply I had to shift in the chair.
I watched the page fill with boundaries, permissions, and things I had never said aloud to anyone.
My arousal had become a steady ache. Every question stripped away another layer of armor. Not because Sal demanded answers. Because he waited until I chose them.
“What do you need afterward?” he asked.
“A blanket.”