Page 600 of End Game

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about waking up tomorrow and still feeling what I did tonight?”

His face changes. “I want that.”

I hold his gaze. “And the day after?”

A beat. “Fuck… yes.”

There is more underneath that answer.

I can hear it.

“You want it to stay with you.”

Micah swallows. “Yeah.”

Not as punishment.

I believe that.

Something physical and chosen. A sensation attached to trust instead of rejection.

I understand the appeal.

“That changes how I approach this.”

“Okay.”

“Because leaving marks is not an incidental outcome anymore. You're asking me to create them.”

“I am.”

“And if I decide your body has had enough before you feel like your head has?”

His eyebrows pull together. “Then?”

“We stop.”

He doesn't answer right away.

I let him sit with it.

Eventually he nods. “Okay.”

“Your desire for more pain is information for me. It does not obligate me to give you more.”

“I know.”

“Say it.”

His eyes narrow. “My wanting more doesn't mean you have to give it to me.”

“Good.”

Something else has been bothering him. I can see it in the way his hand keeps flexing.

“What else are you worried about?”