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    Summary

    "Yeah?" Naim echoed, aroused by this. "Would you have punched me?"

    Ryan jerked back slightly, "What the fuck, Naim?"

    "Would you?" Naim asked, gripping Ryan's arm. "Just — hit me. Slap me. If you were mad enough?"

    Ryan licked his lips. Swallowed. "Dunno. Would you want me to?"

    "Kinda," Naim confessed, kissing Ryan. He reached down to grope Ryan's hardening cock. "Is that weird?"

    Sometimes, Naim needed fear. Controlled fear. Controlled discipline. It helped reel him out of the spiral of anxiety he got in. Ryan understood this. It was the most out-there comment he'd ever made, though.

     

    --

    Roughly five months after their escape. They're still wounded. They still love each other.

    Series
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