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“I’ll speak to you later, Kitten. I love you.”

The words form on my lips, but I don’t speak them. I’ve fallen in love with him, but I can’t say it until I’m sure this can work. And that means him not holding back and repressing his controlling nature from me.

“Goodbye, Anders.”

He tenses at my words, they’re the same ones I said to him Friday afternoon, but unlike then, this isn’t the end, and we both know it.

I sag the moment he closes the door to my apartment behind him. Even just having the door between us feels too final, and for a moment I start to panic, questioning if I imagined him and if he was even really here at all.

But then I see his plate on the sink, the pans he cooked with, his scent filling the empty room. He’s gone, but it’s not over, we’re not over.

The next two days are endlessly long, and even through the texts we share, I can tell that Anders is still containing his needs. Every time I sense it, I ask him what he really wants, which seems to result in him giving me more rules, or orders, or demands. I love them all.

Each time I have to remind him that I’m not scared of his desires, I get a new glimpse into how his ex’s accusations have affected him. Oddly, the more honest and demanding he is, the more I start to believe that he really does want me.

With my new access to Wi-Fi, I do a little research into BDSM and power exchange, and although some aspects of what I found don’t appeal to me at all, it has given me some insight toAnders. He thinks his dominance is unreasonable, but the more he wraps me in his control, the more secure I feel.

Each night—just like he ordered me to—I call and ask him for permission to come, and even though I get the feeling that sometimes he wants to deny me, he still says yes, then listens attentively as I slide my fist up and down my dick until I come.

After I finish, my fingers and belly decorated with my release, I hold my breath and wait for him to speak.

“Jesus, Henry. You’re such a good boy. I love you so much.”

I miss him. It feels stupid to miss someone I barely know who was a stranger two weeks ago, but I do. I miss him so much. So much has happened since we met; so much has changed since he walked into the diner and sat down beside me.

I truly am his in every single way, and the only question left to answer is if he’s mine. All of him, and not just the sanitized version of him. I’ll only accept all of him, and although the last three days have helped us move in the right direction, I can tell he’s still holding back.

When I’d agreed to see him after work on Wednesday, I’d forgotten that he didn’t know about Parker’s crazy wedding plans. So instead of going straight to his place after work, I find myself staring at him across the courtyard at the Rockhead Point courthouse.

He looks gorgeous, dressed in a button-down and slacks, his hair loose, the long strands so blond and luscious that it takes me a moment to blink out of the haze his appearance has shocked me into.

“Hello, Kitten,” he purrs when he reaches me, cupping my cheek and kissing me without even glancing at all the people who could be watching us.

A part of me worries that we shouldn’t be doing this. That outing ourselves in public is a mistake, but then his fingers collar my throat, and I exhale, relaxing into his hold.

“Kiss me,” he growls against my lips.

His demand silences all of my doubts, and I do as he says. I kiss him, curling my fingers into his shirt and clinging to him as he devours me for the entire world—or at least half of Rockhead Point—to see.

“God, I missed you,” he sighs against my cheek as he pulls his mouth from mine, sliding his hand down until he’s holding my shoulders.

“I missed you too,” I whisper.

“I think I need to take a page out of Knight’s book and quit my job so I can follow you around twenty-four-seven,” he says, laughing softly.

“I don’t think I’d hate that,” I admit, forcing myself to be honest, because I’ve spent our time apart pushing him to do the same.

“Danny’s on his way,” someone shouts.

Taking my hand, Anders leads us over to the front row and sits down, pulling me into the seat beside him and tugging me closer until our thighs are plastered together.

“If this wasn’t a wedding, I’d make you sit in my lap,” he growls against my ear. “Are you hard for me? Did you wear the briefs I brought for you? Did you follow the rules? Because no one but me gets to see how excited you are.”

Yesterday afternoon, there’d been a delivery waiting outside my door when I got up to my apartment. It’d been more of the Calvin Klein underwear Anders likes, only instead of the boxer briefs he’d gotten me before, this time it was several pairs of tiny briefs.

When I’d asked him about them, he told me he’d gotten them for me to wear when he was on shift. He said that when I had them on, it’d feel like he was holding my dick and remind me that I belonged to him. He told me to wear them today, and he was right, the cotton shape of the brief cups my dick and balls,holding me in place, making me feel…owned even without him touching me.

“I’m wearing them,” I whisper.