"Not even a little. This just isn't something you can do while being cuffed to the bed. You're not a prisoner in this relationship, Stace. If you want something, you need to take it," he said calmly, going to the other side of the bed to unlock the second set of cuffs.
Then he got back into bed with me and said, "Show me you want me."
Fear flooded my veins at the implication of what he was asking for as he laid his back down against the pillows.
"Fuck me. Touch me," he said, in case I didn't understand.
Obviously, we couldn't go our whole lives without me touching him. He couldn't propose to a woman who refused to touch him.
"It's okay. I promise," he said, holding out his hand to me to help me get on top of him.
Once I was straddling him, I reached out to his face and cupped his cheeks with shaking hands.
