Theo turned his face toward me. “And what if I want it again?”
I smiled. “Then we talk about it. Like adults. Like partners.”
His face flushed. “I might actually like being told what to do.”
I laughed quietly. “Good. Because you look incredible when you trust me.”
He closed his eyes. “I can live with that.”
And I could live with this.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Theo
Morning light spilledacross the bed in uneven bands, catching on Cameron’s shoulder, the curve of his throat, the slow rise and fall of his breathing. I watched him for a while, aware of feeling calm in a way I hadn’t experienced before. What filled me was the sense of having arrived somewhere that had always denied me access.
Until now.
In the past, the morning after was a time to catalogue what I’d done wrong, take stock of how much I’d revealed, and decide what I needed to lock back down. I could see that now, with a clarity that only distance gave.
Back then, I’d told myself it was desire, chemistry. I’d wanted to please Luka, to be good at something when everything else in my life felt uncertain. Luka had been older, confident, incandescent in the way people mistake for strength.I’dcertainly made that error, but looking back, I could see the fault line.
With Luka, control had been taken.
Even when I offered it, it came with conditions attached: quiet, stillness, and approval that had to be earned and could be withdrawn without warning. Luka decided when I was wanted, when I was tolerated…
When I was too much.
I hadn’t relaxed into it so much as disappeared into it. I remembered how my body used to go still, not in surrender but in vigilance. How I learned to mute myself, not because it felt good, but because it felt safer.
He never asked what I needed. He told me who to be.
And I’d complied, because compliance felt like love when you didn’t know any better.
That was the difference. With Cameron, nothing had been assumed. Control hadn’t been claimed as a right. It had been offered back to me, piece by piece, until the realisation hit home.
Ichose this.
Cameron hadn’t wanted me smaller or quieter or easier to manage. He hadn’t rewarded obedience or punished need. He’d asked questions. He’d listened to the answers. He’d checked in, not because I was fragile, but because I mattered.
I didn’t vanish under Cameron’s hands—I’d arrived.
Trust didn’t come from giving up control, but from knowing it would be returned intact.
That’s what made last night different. Luka wanted power. Cameron wants a partnership.
And in that moment, lying beside him, I understood.
Surrender isn’t about silence or endurance or proving worth. It’s about safety, about being seen with all my imperfections and still being wanted.
Cameron stirred, his eyes blinking open.“Hey,” he murmured.
I smiled. “Hey. Good morning.”
“How long have you been awake?”
“Not long. I’ve been thinking.”