When he runs his hand up and down my back, I start to relax. I can’t get a read on this guy. He goes from cold to hot, then down to warm in seconds. He’s completely unpredictable. And that makes me uneasy.
Still fully clothed with his erection out, he continues to rub my back as he explains, “I told you you’re not being tested, Alexa.” Leaning forward, he whispers into my ear, “All you need to do for this to go well…is give in.”
That sounds easy enough. In theory. Right?
No. Not right. Not in the slightest.
When you come from a home like I did and get out of said home, you hold onto your freewill with both hands. Because sometimes, it’s all you got. And there is security in knowing you have a choice. So even though I get Twitch and his need to dominate, I don’t know if giving in is something I can do so easily. Giving in to a person I trust though…
You trust him. You don’t know why…but you do.
A sudden rush of humiliation slides down my body. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Quiet as a mouse, I avoid his eyes and beg, “Don’t hurt me, Twitch. Please don’t hurt me.”
The hand rubbing my back stops, thus ending the small amount of comfort I’d been feeling. His husky voice demands, “Undress me, girl.”
My heart thumps out of my chest.
This is really happening. I’m really going to let him do things to me. Bad things.
I seal my fate when I grip the bottom of his tee tightly and gently lift it over his head. It drops to the floor with a dull whoosh, and I move my thumbs into the sides of his jeans. Lifting my eyes, I look directly into his.
He doesn’t give anything away. His face remains devoid. Expressionless.
Slowly pulling down his pants, they get stuck around his ankles. Damn. I forgot his shoes. Hoping I haven’t f**ked up for the thirty-eighth time tonight, I look up at him wide-eyed. But he silently lets me know it’s okay when he shoots me a small smile. Kneeling by his feet, I undo his laces and remove his shoes and socks before working his jeans all the way off.
Well.
That was awkward.
For me.
He extends a hand to me; I take his offering and he helps me stand. Then he does something I don’t expect. He pulls me forward, takes my arms, and wraps them around his waist. His arms circle my body. And there we stand, naked, in a firm and intense hug. I want to listen to his heartbeat. I need proof that he has one. A heart, that is. Turning my head to the side, I rest the side of my forehead on his chest, close my eyes, and sigh deep, squeezing his waist.
Just as I begin to feel I was worrying about nothing, his arms squeeze me tight. Really tight. Too damn tight. I’m constricted and feeling bound, so I tense. He says softly, “Don’t fight me. I can make this good for both of us.”
I silently agree, but my body has other plans. I begin to struggle in his arms and he chuckles. “Or fight. Whatever. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I need to, Alexa. It’s your choice.”
I continue my struggle and hiss out through gritted teeth, “There is no choice. I have no choice. I can’t move to make a f**king choice!” Clearly, I’m panicked.
Gripping me harder than he should, he orders, “Look at me.”
And I don’t want to; I’m feeling indignant. And suddenly bitter. I don’t want my right to choose to be taken away.
I don’t want to be weak.
Without an answer, Twitch releases one of his arms, and before I know it…
Thwack!
My ass throbs. That was even harder than last time! My mouth opens before I have a chance to think about what I’m doing. “What the f**k is wrong with you? Stop!”
Thwack!
The throbbing on my ass cheek feels like it’s on fire. But I keep going, “I don’t want to do this anymore! Stop, Twitch. I’ve had enough of this. I don’t want to be a weak little whore for you! We’re done!”
What I’ve just said makes his brow furrow. Deep. He loosens his hold on me completely, and when his arms fall away, I feel a tremendous loss that I can’t explain.
Stepping away from me, he stares me down a moment before he says slowly but firmly, “I don’t take weak women to bed. Never.” The air in the hall stills. And it’s frightening. “Not ever.”
I want him to explain what he means, but all I can do is wrap my arms around myself, covering my br**sts. Finding some courage I must have stored deep inside of me, I open my mouth to ask what he means, but nothing comes out. Mouth gaping, I shut my trap and come to terms with the fact that this isn’t going to happen.
My chest aches.
Eyeing Twitch and his tall, solid body, I feel like crying.
What a damn shame.
A few minutes pass and we stand there still. When I risk looking up at him, his lip curves up at the side, giving him one of the most beautiful crooked smiles I’ve ever seen. Stepping forward, he wraps an arm loosely around my waist. “See? You’re not weak.” As I look up at him, he clarifies, “A weak woman would’ve apologized by now. And I know you want this like I want this, but you still didn’t apologize for saying something you meant. A weak woman would’ve apologized, even though she wasn’t sorry. Like I said, I don’t do weak women. Do you realize how strong a woman has to be to do what I’m asking?”
Huh. I never thought of it like that.
He goes on. “It takes a strong woman to let go of her fears and step out of her comfort zone into something that makes her unsure, and even scared. I get you’re an independent woman, and choice goes hand-in-hand with pride, but don’t misunderstand me. A strong woman can also be submissive in bed. It doesn’t make her weak. It makes her stronger than most. Putting your body into the hands of someone else…that takes balls.”
Both hands move down to my bare butt and palm me. He leans down and whispers, “I know I’m scaring you, but I promise you: you give yourself to me and I’ll make sure you never want sex any other way ever again. Be strong for me, Lexi.” Nipping my ear, I break out in goosebumps. “Give in.”
And just like that, I’m back on board. And hornier than sin.
Leaning down to the ground, he picks something up. He says, “Wrap your legs around me,” not a second before he lifts me. I wrap my legs high up on his waist, my arms circle his neck, and he carries me unhurriedly to my room. As soon as we reach the door, he sets me down and my eyes are drawn to the object in his hand.
His belt.
His thick, black leather belt.