Page 98 of Key of Kink

Leo’s words rang in my head again.

He kneels for the joy of it. Which bodes well for you. When they kneel for joy, you don’t hollow out.

I’d told myself making him sleep on the floor tonight restored structure, but looking at him now, open, self-possessed, and calm, I understood something else.

Quinn submitted out of choice.

When they kneel for joy, you don’t hollow out.

So where do we go from here?

One thing was certain. I wanted more of what we’d started.

I set my mug down on the coffee table. “What do you want now?” My question wasn’t about tonight. I wanted to ascertain our trajectory.

He stilled. “Now?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

He exhaled, his gaze dropping briefly to the rim of his cup before raising his eyes to meet mine. “I want this to stay good. I don’t want to rush you. I don’t need a label tomorrow. I don’t need a collar. I don’t need… anything dramatic.” A small smile ghosted across his lips. “I just want to keep choosing this. And to see if you do too.”

He’s asking whether I intend to keep showing up.

Fuck. Quinn was twenty, measured, clear, and dangerously reasonable.

“And if I don’t?” I was testing the line and I knew it.

He held my gaze. “Then I’ll leave,” he said in a calm voice. “I’m not here to convince you.”

My chest tightened. This was not naïve submission.

This was strength.

For the first time since he’d stepped into Obsidian, I understood exactly what made Quinn dangerous to me. He didn’t need to be rescued, or moulded, or broken open.

He wants partnership within power.

That was territory I had sworn never to enter again.

I moved away from him. “You sound very sure of yourself.”

He shrugged, but there was no flippancy in it. “I’ve had time to think.”

All of a sudden, the floor beside my bed felt less like structure and more like a line I was drawing against something inevitable.

When they kneel for joy, you don’t have to carry them. You get to meet them.

Quinn

I changed in the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror for a second.

You just got invited to stay.

You’re sleeping on the floor.

I was fine with that because he wasn’t sending me home. That mattered more than the mattress. Plus, I’d seen his face when he said it. This wasn’t Max putting me in my place—this was him trying to find his.

That changed everything.