that release. It was a physical necessity.
“Please, Ron,” I said, squeezing his wrist as he palmed me between my legs, leisurely making my back arch and my thighs tremble.
“Please, what?” he asked, placid, even though he was more than aware of exactly what I wanted.
“Make me come,” I all but whined, pushing impatiently against his hand, willing it to give me the release I craved.
“Oh, that’s what you want?” he said casually, as if I’d asked him to pass the salt. I knew he had to be flirting with me, teasing me, but I was beyond that point. I’d seen the place where I wanted to be, and I salivated over it. I didn’t want any obstacles to my goal.
“Yes, that’s what I fucking want,” I snapped, angry only because it was something I wanted so badly. My climax was a very real drug for me, and Ron was its facilitator.
Something changed in his face at my tone of voice, and I suddenly found myself pinned roughly to the couch, my hands over my head.
“Is this what you fucking want?” Ron growled, right in my face. Flustered, all I could do was blink at him. I felt like I had a whiplash from the feelings I was experiencing. I’d been close to getting what I wanted, just minutes away from the release I always sought, and now I was looking up into the very threatening face of the man I loved. I didn’t know what to say as an understatement.
“Answer me!” he demanded, flecks of spittle landing on my face, making me flinch.
I swallowed and flexed my fingers a little. His tight grip on my wrists was beginning to make my hands fall asleep, slowing the circulation of blood to them.
“You’re hurting me,” I whispered, afraid to hold my silence, afraid of what he would say to that admission. This wasn’t making sense to me whatsoever. In our time together, Ron hadn’t given me any indication that he was capable of this kind of instant vehemence. It was shocking in its suddenness, as if some other person, a stranger I didn’t know, slipped into Ron’s body for a moment and occupied it with extreme prejudice.
The intensity on Ron’s face relaxed at my words, and his grip on my wrists released. I brought my hands back down and crossed them awkwardly over my chest, my fingers tingling.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his voice sincerely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
My heart was still thudding in my chest. “What were you trying to do?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, quiet.
“I was trying something a little different, that’s all,” he said, shrugging.
“You were threatening toward me,” I pointed out.
“It’s a sex thing,” he said, shrugging. “I’m sorry. It’s just…at the beach, you said you loved me, that you’d do anything for me.”
I was calmer now that Ron was calmer, but I was no less confused.
“You…want me to let you threaten me? What kind of sex thing is that?”
Ron laughed suddenly, and I laughed with him, eagerly after hesitating a moment. I wanted this strangeness to be over and was intent on doing all I could to help it pass.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, hiding his face with his hands. “I didn’t think, Parker. Jesus! You must think I’m an animal. I forgot that you don’t have much experience…of course this would be weird for you—scary, even.”
“I wasn’t scared,” I lied quickly. “I just didn’t understand what was happening. I mean…that’s a sex thing? Really? People being mean to each other is sexy?”
“Oh, baby,” he said, taking one of my hands and turning it over to kiss my palm. My wrists were still sore, and it was hard not to shrink away from him touching the area of my body in question again. “It’s not being mean, it’s being dominant. I thought maybe you’d be into it, especially with your act at the club.”
I blinked several times. My act at the club, my Parker persona…the only thing dominant about that was my penchant for black and aloofness. I wasn’t outright mean or
“Please, Ron,” I said, squeezing his wrist as he palmed me between my legs, leisurely making my back arch and my thighs tremble.
“Please, what?” he asked, placid, even though he was more than aware of exactly what I wanted.
“Make me come,” I all but whined, pushing impatiently against his hand, willing it to give me the release I craved.
“Oh, that’s what you want?” he said casually, as if I’d asked him to pass the salt. I knew he had to be flirting with me, teasing me, but I was beyond that point. I’d seen the place where I wanted to be, and I salivated over it. I didn’t want any obstacles to my goal.
“Yes, that’s what I fucking want,” I snapped, angry only because it was something I wanted so badly. My climax was a very real drug for me, and Ron was its facilitator.
Something changed in his face at my tone of voice, and I suddenly found myself pinned roughly to the couch, my hands over my head.
“Is this what you fucking want?” Ron growled, right in my face. Flustered, all I could do was blink at him. I felt like I had a whiplash from the feelings I was experiencing. I’d been close to getting what I wanted, just minutes away from the release I always sought, and now I was looking up into the very threatening face of the man I loved. I didn’t know what to say as an understatement.
“Answer me!” he demanded, flecks of spittle landing on my face, making me flinch.
I swallowed and flexed my fingers a little. His tight grip on my wrists was beginning to make my hands fall asleep, slowing the circulation of blood to them.
“You’re hurting me,” I whispered, afraid to hold my silence, afraid of what he would say to that admission. This wasn’t making sense to me whatsoever. In our time together, Ron hadn’t given me any indication that he was capable of this kind of instant vehemence. It was shocking in its suddenness, as if some other person, a stranger I didn’t know, slipped into Ron’s body for a moment and occupied it with extreme prejudice.
The intensity on Ron’s face relaxed at my words, and his grip on my wrists released. I brought my hands back down and crossed them awkwardly over my chest, my fingers tingling.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his voice sincerely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
My heart was still thudding in my chest. “What were you trying to do?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, quiet.
“I was trying something a little different, that’s all,” he said, shrugging.
“You were threatening toward me,” I pointed out.
“It’s a sex thing,” he said, shrugging. “I’m sorry. It’s just…at the beach, you said you loved me, that you’d do anything for me.”
I was calmer now that Ron was calmer, but I was no less confused.
“You…want me to let you threaten me? What kind of sex thing is that?”
Ron laughed suddenly, and I laughed with him, eagerly after hesitating a moment. I wanted this strangeness to be over and was intent on doing all I could to help it pass.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, hiding his face with his hands. “I didn’t think, Parker. Jesus! You must think I’m an animal. I forgot that you don’t have much experience…of course this would be weird for you—scary, even.”
“I wasn’t scared,” I lied quickly. “I just didn’t understand what was happening. I mean…that’s a sex thing? Really? People being mean to each other is sexy?”
“Oh, baby,” he said, taking one of my hands and turning it over to kiss my palm. My wrists were still sore, and it was hard not to shrink away from him touching the area of my body in question again. “It’s not being mean, it’s being dominant. I thought maybe you’d be into it, especially with your act at the club.”
I blinked several times. My act at the club, my Parker persona…the only thing dominant about that was my penchant for black and aloofness. I wasn’t outright mean or
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