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.
The whole outfit makes me feel elegant and…cherished. A niggling voice in my head reminds me that I didn’t earn these clothes. Except Emeric gave them to me under the very clear understanding that I belong to him and, in turn, everything he possesses is mine. Hard to wrap my mind around that. But for now, I’ll wear the clothes because his gift means more to me than my damnable pride.
I find him sitting at the island in the kitchen, picking through a plate of pastries topped with eggs, cheese, and bacon. His attention jumps to me, and he freezes. Only his eyes move, heating beneath dark brows as he makes an unhurried tour up and down my body.
It’s obvious he bought these clothes because my current wardrobe is lacking. But when he continues his head-to-toe perusal, I realize he went shopping because he was thinking about me, maybe imagining how I would look dressed in the things he likes.
On the final pass, his rock-hard facial features soften with satisfaction. Something inside me catches and holds. I put that look on his face by accepting his gift. I don’t know what it is, but knowing I please him meshes so well with all the new feelings he stirs in me.
He meets my eyes. “Luckiest dress on the planet.”
My heart trundles into a cadenza of heavy beats. “Can’t believe how well it fits.”
He glances at my lips. “Sit down and eat.”
His brown paisley necktie, off-white button-up, and brown slacks would look old-fashioned on another man. But on him, it’s a statement in designer metro-sexy. Hell, he could wear a popped collar and bedazzled cutoffs, and women would drop their panties as he walks by.
The robust scent of coffee swirls around me as I sit beside him. “No waistcoat today?”