The psychiatrist didn’t say a word. He just set his notepad to the side.

“Give me some words of wisdom, Doc, because I’m dying here,” I joked.

“Did you hurt her?” he asked, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Yes.”

“And this makes you feel guilty.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not supposed to be like that.”

He stared hard at me. “What if it has to be like that? For her. What if it has to be like that for her to feel pleasure?”

“I could touch her softly,” I started, but he held up a hand.

“Mason, some people who experience trauma are never able to give up control. The fact that she even invited you into her fantasy world shows that she trusts you.”

“And I betrayed it.”

He shook his head. “You fulfilled her needs, Mason. It was at the expense of your own, and that was a very selfless thing to do.”

“It doesn’t feel selfless. It feels wrong.”

The door behind us opened, and the woman I’d wronged walked in the door. I jumped to my feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you,” Charlie said quietly. “I was worried, so I called your mom, and she said you were here, and here I am.” She crossed to stand in front of me, and raised her hand to my cheek. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft and careful, like she was afraid I would break.

“I’m sorry,” I rushed to say. I pressed her hand to my cheek.

“For what?”

“For hurting you.”

“I asked you for it.”

“I still shouldn’t have, but you were begging, and I wanted to see you come, and when you said the only way was—”

“Shhh,” she said. She smiled, regret filling her eyes. “Now I feel terrible. I pushed you too hard.”

“Mason,” the doctor said as he motioned for us to take a seat, “sometimes, people who experience traumas can’t get through them without someone who truly understands. Sometimes sex, for someone like Charlie, will never be normal.” He drew air quotes around normal. “The trick is finding someone who can explore her sexuality with no guilty feelings after.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed so hard,” Charlie said. She buried her face in her hands. “I feel so bad.”

“How did it feel last night, when it was happening?” the doctor asked.

“Wonderful.” She smiled, softly and sweetly. “It was amazing. I’ve never felt so well cared for.”

“Can I make some suggestions?” the doctor said. “For the two of you, and any partners you might have in the future?”

“Of course,” Charlie said. She nodded at me with encouragement.

“You two have to talk. Charlie, you have to tell him what you need, and he has to tell you what he needs. Sometimes he might need soft and slow. And sometimes you might need hard and rough.”

He went on to tell us about safe words, and how to use them to get out of a situation that didn’t feel right. A safe word was something that either of us could use.

“Would you use it?” I asked her. “If I went too far?”

She laughed. “I don’t think you could go too far for me, but yes, I would.”

“You swear it?”

“Yes.” She blinked her blue eyes at me. “I promise. But you have to promise to use it too.”

“Okay.”

My heart lightened. Charlie and I left there together that day and Charlie stayed for a week. We had one full week of learning one another’s bodies, our likes and dislikes, and I learned how to get her off. I learned how to dominate her in the bedroom without feeling like I’d hurt her. At the end of the week, when she had to leave, I was sorry to see her go. I kissed her goodbye.

“Thank you,” she said.

I nodded, my nose brushing hers. She kissed me, and then she left. She didn’t come and see me for a long time after that. She stayed away so long that I missed her. I wished for her soft skin and her cries of pain. I wished for her to come back, so I could throw her on the bed and pretend to take what wasn’t mine. I wished for her fantasies to come back to me often.

And now, here she was. Mine. Here. For me.