I wake up to the weight of an arm across my waist and the low, steady sound of someone breathing behind me.

Richard is still here.

The belt is gone. My wrists are free, faintly marked. I’m clean—someone wiped me down sometime in the night—and the sheets have been pulled up over both of us. His chest is warm against my back, one heavy thigh draped over mine. He’s soft now, but even soft he’s pressed close enough that I feel every inch of him.

For a few seconds I just lie there, staring at the pale morning light coming through the half-closed blinds. My body aches in the best...