Page 70 of Power

“Calista…” He shook his head.

“You want me to trust you? Then maybe you should trust me too, to know my body, my desires, to know my own fucking needs!”

I couldn’t help but shout now, the tears flowing down my cheeks uncontrollably.

I’d been holding so much inside—so much unhappiness and dissatisfaction, so many unmet desires—and it all burst to the surface.

I snapped, letting my anger take the wheel.

I slammed my palm into his chest, and he took a step backward.

“Blowjobs!” I roared, breath catching in my throat.

I hit him again.

“Spankings!” I cried.

My palm slapped his chest again, and he fumed, his whole body coiled tight, upset, annoyed, on the verge of fury. Undeterred, I hit him again.

“Choking!”

His mouth fell open in surprise.

“Restraints!” I seethed as I struck him once more.

“Calista,” he whispered, his voice a low warning that I ignored.

“Before I met you, I had lovers—lots of them! Did you know that?”

His frown deepened, the lines between his brows growing more prominent.

“I did,” I insisted, voice trembling with fierce pride. “And they did things to me—things I screamed for, begged for, cried for.”

“Stop it, Calista!” he demanded. Once again, I ignored him, landing another blow to his chest.

“I won’t stop. I want you to hear every word! I want you to know it all so you’ll understand!” I shook my head. “I’ve always known what I wanted. That never changed. I like sex—no, I love it! I’ve never been shy about asking for it, and I don’t ever want to be.”

His lips were twisted into an angry grimace, and I felt my pussy quiver at the sight of him angry.

Finally!

His dark irises burned with unguarded intensity, not fury but something more predatory. I knew I was pushing things too far, perhaps beyond that, but it was too late now.

I couldn’t tell if I had made any progress in getting him to understand me, but if he was going to change his mind, it would undoubtedly take a monumental effort.

I went in for the kill, fully aware of the risk I was taking.

“If you won’t give me the passion I crave, Leon, what solution do you propose? Would you like me to find someone else to scratch that itch?”

Time slowed down, my questions hanging in the air between us for a fraction of a second like a bullet in slow motion.

And then, before I could think, before I could blink, and before I could utter another inflammatory word, Leon snapped.

His fingers wrapped around my neck, and he pushed me backward, all at once. I gasped as he brought his face close to mine. His fingers tightened around the column of my neck.

He kicked my feet apart until he was standing between them, his words dripping from his mouth with rage.

“Is this what you want?’

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