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My hands, where I’d wrapped them together between my knees, were a safer study than her. I hung my head, but I was no coward. I looked at her, even if it was the bleakest stare I’d summoned for her, ever.
“Kind?” I’d been more than kind. My restraint had been phenomenal. “I’ve seen how you respond to me.” From what she’d once said, I was the only man who’d ever made her come.
She scoffed, but wriggled as if uncomfortable under my stare. Good.
“That’s purely physical. You don’t jump on every woman who stares at you, surely? Do you?” Her words were mocking and steeped in challenge.
I should back away. I should. And in half an hour, she’d use me as a safety blanket when the storm came back.
“No. I don’t.”
But you, girl, you’re different. Couldn’t she see the possibilities? I said a string of curses in my head. Anger was foreign to me, most days. I was seething and I wasn’t sure why she brought this out.
Being scared of me wasn’t all of it. She seemed scared of people in general, up close. Of what might happen with that next step, where she’d have to give away a piece of herself. Every step of the way she pulled backward, until forced.
I got that.
It was the possibilities that terrified her. She’d made a little safe cocoon and left to herself, she’d stay there.
I tapped my fingers on my leg.
Smirking, she shrugged at me. “See. We agree. We should do another game.”
“A game?”
“Mm.” Her movements were stiff. The girl looked brittle as glass but maybe that was me glowering.
Another place, another time, I’d have backed off. But here, now? I could let her keep doing this, keep pretending we were a pair of poeslekker aunties having a tea party, or I could do what every part of me was itching to do. What I was damn sure she needed, let alone wanted.
It almost seemed negligent to let her go on without seeing who she could be. She must have been so fucking lonely from what she’d revealed. The submissives I’d known, back in Cape Town, had often seemed to have the best of love.
And then, there were my needs...
They crawled across my skin, tugging at me, reminding me of how I’d had her, of what I’d done to her in here, not in Gregor’s dungeon, here, in this room, where she so primly sat pretending that nothing had ever happened.
“Noughts and crosses?” she asked brightly.
“Noughts and crosses.” I turned down my lip and pretended to calmly consider it. “You want a game? Do you remember the one where you kneeled for me and loved it? Have you forgotten? Me, I remember.” I nodded. “I remember your sounds when I played with your body. Your cries when I gave you pleasure. I remember, not just in my head, but in here.”
I whacked one hand on my chest. A little over dramatic but I felt like thumping something.
The flush hit her face in a rush.
“I never... I never really liked that.”
“Never?” Talk about denial. I snapped out a command. “Give me your wrist.”
The slightest sign of obedience would be enough.
As if I had her on a string, her hand came up. The stunned expression when she caught herself, halted the movement of her hand, and stared at me, unleashed a torrent of satisfaction.
I grinned at her malevolently.
“I wasn’t going to –” she began, her eyes flashing, her tone so damn indignant.
“You were.” This woman begged to be dominated.
Some things just needed doing.
