Page 29 of Dominion’s Collar

"Before or after I agreed to this?"

"Before."

She holds my gaze for a long beat. The amusement wins over the indignation. Close contest.

"That's either extremely presumptuous or extremely confident."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive."

Her mouth moves at one corner. An acknowledgment that I've won a round she didn't expect to lose.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss before either of us signs this." I lean forward. "Practical, not romantic. But it needs to happen."

"Safe sex."

"You've been waiting for this part."

"I've been wondering when you'd get to it." She settles deeper into the chair. "I'm on birth control. An IUD. Last panel was a few months ago. Negative across the board. No partners since."

"I'm tested quarterly. Last panel was recent. Negative. No partners since."

"Condoms?"

"Your preference."

Her eyes don't leave mine. The clinical language hasn't drained the charge from this conversation. Two people discussing the specific mechanics of what will happen between their bodies while pretending the discussion isn't foreplay.

"I prefer without," she says. Her voice is steady. The pulse in her throat isn't. The distance between those two things is where this entire dynamic lives.

"Agreed." I pause. "We'll exchange verified results before anything physical happens. Dominion keeps testing records on file. I'll have mine updated."

The word settles between us. What we've just agreed to is technically a medical conversation. It doesn't feel like one. It feels like the last barrier between us and something we've been circling since she sat down at the bar. Since she told me I watch a room like it owes me something.

"The remaining terms are as negotiated." I pull the contract closer. "Thirty days. Twice weekly unless mutually adjusted. Savannah remains the emergency safeword. Either of us can end it."

She takes it. Reads. Not skimming. Reading, the way someone who respects language reads documents that will govern her body.

"One amendment," she says.

"Name it."

"The thirty-day term. If either of us wants to end it early, we don't owe each other a reason. Just a conversation."

"That's already in the exit clause."

"I want it explicit. Not buried in the language."

She's protecting herself. An intelligent, cautious woman entering a dynamic with a Dom she hasn't known long. Practical.

It's also what a woman with a secondary agenda would request. I hold both readings.

"Agreed. I'll add it."

I take the pen first. Write the amendment into the margin in my own hand, initial it, and set the pen beside the contract.

She reads what I've written. Nods. Initials the amendment and signs. Precise, unhesitating. She pushes the contract across the table.

My signature goes beneath the name of a woman I've known for weeks and offered something I've never offered anyone.