Dark Notes(69)

The weight of his body sinks mine into the bedding, his strength contracting around me as his hand slides up my ribs, taking the shirt with it. My fingers latch onto his hair, curling through the damp strands as he kisses me with firm lips and a devastatingly urgent tongue.

Held down by his size, my mouth controlled by his, I close my eyes and simply enjoy his feral affection. He catches my nipple and gives it a painful tug. When I gasp, he groans. I rock my hips, and he grinds his, pinning me to the bed and pressing his hard length against my core. A little more of that and his towel will fall off. Maybe I could help it along?

I reach behind him and glide a hand down the flexing ridges of his back. When my fingers bump the towel, I slip beneath it and meet the rise of hard firm muscle. My God, how can a man’s ass be so irresistible? I want to feel it with both hands, but his body’s too long to get a good grasp. I stretch my arms, reaching—

He grabs my throat and squeezes. The force of his grip shoves my chin up, and my hands lose precious inches on his backside.

The angle of my mouth gives him deeper access, his tongue curling around mine and his wet exhales heating my face. “I’m a raging f*cking animal around you.”

I want to tell him to use me in whatever manner feeds his hunger, but as his fingers clench tighter around my throat, it’s too much. My lungs burn for oxygen, and black spots invade my vision. Panic rises, my jaw working against his. Not kissing. Fighting.

I can’t breathe. My hands flail against his back, my body bucking to escape. Let go. Let go.

The fist around my throat disappears, followed by his weight. I clutch my neck and wheeze for air as fear ices my veins and tears blur my eyes.

He stands beside the bed, righting the towel over the hard, jutting length I’ve yet to see.

Raking a hand through his hair, he glares down at me. “You’re not ready.”

I let go of my aching throat and sit up, shaking against a full-body tremor. “Ready for what? Sex?”

“For me!” He strides to the dresser and pulls out checkered socks and black briefs. “Keep that in mind the next time you ask to watch me jack off.”

My stomach sinks. “I don’t understand. Why did you strangle me? To scare me?”

If so, it worked. My heart is still pounding.

“To show you.” He crosses the room, stops at the foot of the bed, and scowls at his erection beneath the towel. Then his gaze bores into mine. “I get off on watching your body bow in anguish, on knowing I put those tears in your eyes. But only when you give me that pleasure freely and with absolute trust.”

Did I give it freely? Did I even have a choice? “If you care about me, why can’t we do this without…tears?”

His rumpled black hair and thick eyelashes give him a softer look, but the sharpness in his blue eyes reminds me that if there’s any gentleness inside him, it’s easily choked by his meteoric temper.

He glances at the clock and looks back at me. “I have a deep sexual need to push a woman beyond her comfort zone. When you’re ready to let me take you there, you’ll fight every instinct in your body, but I promise…the result is far more fulfilling than an orgasm.”

What could be better than an orgasm? Is it something deeper, like that warm feeling that fills my chest when I know he’s enjoying me? Giving him pleasure heightens mine to euphoric levels. So yeah, maybe there’s more to intimacy than just lying on my back while he ruts on top of me. But I have no idea what it could be.

I swallow. I don’t know how I feel about the choking. Does it go beyond my comfort zone? What will he try next? “Why do you want to push me like that?”

“It’s the ultimate trust, and the power in that is unparalleled.”

Despite the unease gurgling inside me, I manage to keep my voice steady. “I don’t want anyone to have power over—”

“No, Ivory. You’re the one with the power. You set the limits and decide when it stops.” He frowns down at me as a twitch skates across his hairless chest. “You didn’t use your safe word.”

Fuck, I forgot. “I couldn’t talk with your hand—”

“Bullshit. You didn’t try.”

I adjust the shirt over my thighs. “That’s the lesson, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Without another word, he steps inside the closet, leaving me in a flushed heap of turmoil.

A few minutes later, he emerges fully clothed and tells me to come to the kitchen when I’m ready to go.

The purpose of his lesson consumes me as I shower, brush my hair and teeth, and dress alone in his bedroom. I know my perceptions of sex and men are jaded, but the pressure of his hand on my throat was nothing compared to the past four years of pain and fear. Doesn’t make his methods acceptable, but the shockingly harsh way he does things might actually be effective.

The next time he makes me uncomfortable, I’m positive I’ll be thinking about that safe word. And he’ll heed it. Since I’ve known him, he hasn’t taken a single thing I wasn’t willing to give. My God, there is power in that. Knowing he’ll stop when I say the word makes me feel taller, steadier…lighter.

I tread down the stairs in the soft leather of new shoes. The adorable flats have little silver spikes and black mesh around the toes. They add a trendy touch to the red woven dress. The three-quarter sleeves will keep me warm in the autumn evenings. The straight hem goes past my knees, and the bodice has this cool sash that crisscrosses from back to front and ties at my waist.