How did we get here? How did we gravitate away from Henry and Emma, amiable coworkers who don’t socialize, to me nodding like a possessed fool at his promised torture, ready to do whatever he asks?

My tongue is heavy in my mouth, rivaling a piece of lead. I have to swallow a few times before I find my voice and can speak actual words. He’s going to destroy me.

My demise. My downfall. My salvation.

“N-no it doesn’t sound like a line.”

“Good. I need a word from you.”

“A word? For what?”

“In case it gets to be too much. I need to know you’ll stop me so we don’t go past your limits.”

“A-are you going to hurt me?” Dread fills my stomach. Physical pain isn’t close to what I’m insinuating.

Horror replaces the lust on Henry’s face and he blanches. “I will never, ever hurt you. I promise. That’s why I want you to pick a word, sweetheart. I know it’s been a while for you. I’m not saying that to be a jerk. I want to keep you safe. Not overwhelmed or trapped.”

“Do you think you’re that good?”

The heat behind his gaze tells me all I need to know. “I know I’m that good.”

“O-oh.”

“A word, Emma.”

“Cheesecake,” I say quickly. His lips turn up and his eyes dance.

“Cheesecake,” he repeats, kissing me softly. His hand rests on the terry cloth of my towel, fingers toying with the haphazard twist holding the covering in place.

“Do you remember the night you zipped me up in the office? When I was on my way to an event?”

“In great detail.”

“When you touched me, it felt like electricity running through my veins. A spark, even then.”

Henry cups my chin, a move I’m learning he enjoys, raising it to look me in the eyes. “That touch awakened my soul. You’ve utterly destroyed me for anyone else.”

This kiss is so full of life. He guides us to the bed, undoing my towel along the way. When the backs of my legs hit the mattress, I tumble onto the sheets.

“Lay on the pillows, hold the headboard, and do not drop your hands,” he instructs.

It should be illegal how obscene the sentence sounds coming from him. I scramble back, ass rumpling the sheets in my wake. My shaky arms raise to obediently grasp the wood.

Henry joins me on the mattress, crawling toward me with grace and poise. When he reaches me, he pinches one nipple, then the other, and I moan in delight. I’ve been waiting for this all day.

His touch is exploratory. Like unsailed oceans waiting to be discovered, he maps out my body, acknowledging every curve, every divot, every line. His fingers skim across the dip of my hip, asking permission for more.