“Don’t stop.” But Julien has to stop. Will is about to cry, and something is very, very wrong. “I’m not fucking you when you don’t want it,” Julien says, more forcefully than he intended. “That’s not—” Will trembles, his eyes shock-wide. “I’m sorry. I want it. I’m sorry.” Bruises. Pain. Marks. Evidence. I wanted the marks. The proof that my failure had happened. The proof that the punishment had happened.
