Page 47 of Carver
“I can’t do that to you,” he insists, but something sparks in the depths of his eyes.
“Why not? What if I want it?”
“I can’t hurt you.”
Fair enough. I should have anticipated that Dom would have triggers. He’s very good at living in the present when it comes to his family. He doesn’t like to go back into his mind, traversing memories he worked hard to make some sort of peace with. “Can I boss you around then? Everything would just be pretend. Role playing.”
“I… don’t think I’d be any good at that.”
“What if it was truly just playful? In a romantic way?”
“You want me to chase you? Try and catch you? Spank you? Pin you to a wall with your wrists above your head? Edge you until you’re begging? How far are we talking?”
I suck in a breath as my skin breaks out into goosebumps. “The wall thing sounds kind of exciting. With a side bit of you not holding yourself back at all.”
“But you know that I want you.”
“Unquestionably.” I never want him to question that. “I’d like to try a few new positions, and get a little bit unhinged, but only as far as passion goes. Nothing that bruises or leaves lasting marks. Nothing damaging. If it’s not fun for both of us, I don’t want to do it.”
“You want to tell me what you want?”
“Blatantly. The wall thing? I’d like to try it.”
“How?”
“You step into my space.” I can see it happening in my mind, playing it out, his huge, hard body driving me back with the threat of what’s to come. Not a real threat. A playful threat. “Crowd me back against the wall. Take my hands in yours and pin them up there. Tell me to leave them there. Get me naked with no regard for my clothes like you did last night.” Now that I’ve started, I keep going, firing myself up until my voice thickens and gets husky. “Command me to touch myself for you. Taste me. Kiss me. Learn my body. Get me to show you. Get me to touch you and taste you. It’s nothing we haven’t done before, but with more talking. No holding back. We trust each other. This is a safe space. It’s okay to experiment. It’s okay to get excited about new things. If we’re not into it, that’s okay.”
“No whips and chains?”
I laugh, but it’s deeper. Sultry. It catches me off guard. “Even if I did have a hankering for that, where would we get them?”
“Online? The garage? The store?”
“I meant in a few minutes.”
“No gags or blindfolds?”
I’m warmed right from my belly down to my toes and up to my breasts. My nipples are hard and I’m hot and pulsing between my legs. “Maybe another night, if we worked up to it. Being blindfolded could be fun.”
“No choking?”
Good god. “No choking.”
“If you want to be trapped between the wall and my body, I can do that. That’s… I’d like to do that for you.”
“Does that get you hard?” I stare at his jeans and my mouth goes dry the second I spot the rigid outline of his erection straining against the faded, worn denim. I want to feather my hand there, tracing the length of him before I cup my hand around him.
“Anything and everything you could ever do will always get me harder than hard.”
“Step into my space then. Crowd into me.”
He does, matching me step for step. I retreat until my back hits the wall. He keeps coming until he’s so close that I have to widen my stance because there’s nowhere for me to go. I’m pressed into the wall as far as I can be. Dom takes all the space up, sucking all the oxygen out of the room, even though we’re just playing. My spine crushes into the drywall.
“Take your shirt off,” he commands, his voice deeper and darker than I’ve ever heard it.
I stare into the blue well of his eyes, drowning in the dark depths. His pupils are already blown. He strokes his hand down my cheek, cupping my chin, tilting my face up.
“I said, Bronte, take your shirt off.”
