20. Lily
TWENTY
LILY
I’ve never felt so vulnerable.
Which is saying a lot because there have been numerous times in my life where I’ve been weak and at the heel of someone’s mercy. But this…this feels different . Like sprinting through a marathon, exhausted and drained yet completely satisfied.
Alex has moved behind me on the couch, both of us sprawled out, his arms wrapped around me, the warmth of his body fighting off the chill of revulsion that’s trying to creep up my back.
“Why did you stop?” I ask, twisting to face him.
His eyebrow arches. “Because I wanted to hold you.”
“But what if I wanted to return the favor?” My eyes glance down to his lap. Honestly, I don’t think I have the energy for that or the stomach. I’ve never willingly given head before in my life. Memories scream into my present just from the thought.
“You also wanted me to ‘take it,’” Alex says.
My cheeks heat, my stomach flipping with disgust.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
My fingers scratch at my wrist.
Alex’s hand moves up, his knuckles tilting my chin until I’m staring into his eyes. “I want to give you what you want, little bird, but we need to talk about it more before I do. That’s why we stopped.”
I roll my eyes, scoffing, my face jerking out of his grasp. “Talking defeats the whole purpose. It was stupid anyway. I shouldn’t have said anything.” The words rush out of me, shame filling up every single cell in my body until I’m weighed down by regret.
Regret for saying something.
Regret for having something to say.
Regret for letting things happen to me in the first place.
My heart cinches tight, stomach heaving.
“No.” His voice is sharp. “Don’t do that. Not with me.” He drags my face back again, his lips grazing mine on every exhale. “I don’t want you to hide. I don’t want you to cower away. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you need.”
My body trembles, a sharp pain swelling my throat.
“I want to give it to you.” He presses a chaste kiss to my lips.
I suck in a breath, my already oversensitized body sizzling from his touch.
“There’s nothing wrong with role-play, Lily. Nothing wrong with liking things. With needing certain things.”
My chest burns, the sudden need for something to be swimming through my veins like a visceral itch, slinking beneath my skin, unable to be scratched.
His breath ghosts across the skin of my cheek, but he hesitates before saying the next part. “You have a rape fantasy.”
The word rape sends me into a tailspin, defensive shackles rising up and slamming back down. Revulsion and shame slice through my veins, bleeding onto the floor, until I’m sure he can see how absolutely fucking pathetic I am. I don’t like that word. It reminds me of things I never want to think about again. “No, I?—”
Alex’s grip on my body tightens. “There’s nothing wrong with it.” Another kiss. “We just need to be clear about things before we dive in.” His eyes glide down my body before rising back to meet mine, the fire in his gaze enough to re-spark the match lying in the pit of my belly.
“I would die a thousand deaths right now to get inside of you,” he continues. “But I want to make sure we do things right. I need to make sure you’re taken care of.”
Swallowing, I try to form words around my suddenly parched throat. “I don’t like calling it that,” I whisper.
He nods, his eyes spearing into me. “Okay, what would you rather call it?”
My brain goes a thousand miles a minute, but for the life of me, I can’t come up with a word. All I know is I don’t want it called that.
“How about… consensual aggression.” He pauses, his thumb brushing against the underside of my jaw in a repetitive caress, lulling me into the feeling of comfort. “That’s what it is, right? That’s what you like?”
I nod, but then panic seizes my chest, a sharp ache radiating through the cavity. “I’m not, uh…I’m not sure. I’ve never?—”
His grip tightens again, and my heart rate slows down. “You’ve never actually done it?”
I shake my head.
“But you’d like to.” His eyes don’t lose contact, staying locked on mine the entire time. And there’s something about the way he’s handling everything, the way he’s controlling the situation, and making me feel like I could tell him my darkest, deepest secrets, that has me wanting to tell him everything .
But I won’t.
I can’t even admit them to myself most days.
“Yeah.” I nod.
He sucks on his lips, his cock twitching from where it’s pressed against the back of my leg. “We need a safe word.”
My nose scrunches. He’s so direct and at ease, acting as if we’re doing something completely mundane, like making a grocery list. Like he’s done this a thousand times.
Maybe he has. My stomach jolts as a ghost of a thought sits in the back of my mind, reminding me that I don’t really know him.
“I want to give you what you need, but I want you to know you’re always in control of the situation, okay?” His voice pushes the whisper of caution from my brain.
Emotion clogs my throat, and I swallow around the lump. I don’t know what that’s like—being in control. My fingers tear at my wrist, my mind spinning so fast, I couldn’t pick a word if I tried.
“How about bunny?” he suggests.
Satisfaction settles over my body with the word, and I nod. “Okay.”
My face heats and I break our stare. Does he think this is stupid?
His fingers lift up my chin again. “Hey, don’t do that. Talking about things is important.” He leans in and peppers my cheek with kisses. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?”
I nod, my insides swirling with an unknown feeling. I feel…safe. Calm. Protected.
Cherished.
Alex stands and leans over me, his palm wrapping around the back of my neck. He pulls me until the top half of my body is lifted from the couch, held up solely by his grasp. His nose brushes mine. “I just want to make something extremely clear.”
My heart pounds against my ribs.
“Now that I’ve had you. Now that I’ve tasted you, no one else gets to touch you.” He slips his tongue in my mouth, branding me with ownership. I shouldn’t like the way it feels.
But I do.
“You’re mine .”
And then he releases me, my body bouncing off the couch cushions as he walks into the kitchen.
I stare after him, my fingers tracing my lips, wondering where the hell he came from and what the hell I’m going to do once he leaves.