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“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.”