you.”
He nodded. “And you like them on top?” he added.
Abby took a step back. This was getting strange. Mark took a step closer to her. “Stop,” she commanded, but he didn’t. He took another step closer. She retreated instinctively until her lower back pressed against the kitchen counter.
Mark stopped right in front of her. “You’re in total control in the bedroom,” he said. “Am I right?”
“W-what?”
“You have a lot of rules. Things you won’t do or let be done to you, right?”
Abby was now more angry than nervous. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Yes. Fine. I have rules. Tons of them. So there. I can’t possibly be submissive. I don’t let men walk all over me like I’m some kind of slutty toy they can use and throw away. I bet you think all women are submissive, or should be, especially to men. Well, I’m not.”
He surprised her by shaking his head. “Not all women are submissive. Some are very, very dominant. Some people are just born wired one way or the other, regardless of gender.”
That made her feel a little better. “Well, I’m not anything. I’m just-”
He closed the tiny gap between them and she put her hands to his chest to ward him off. He grabbed both of her wrists, forcing her arms to her sides.
“What are you doing?” she gasped. She struggled to get free but he wouldn’t let go. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was as unyielding as steel. He leaned down and took her mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue forced its way in. She made a noise of protest and moved to bring her knee up to his nuts.
He countered swiftly, shoving his own leg between hers and pressing into her. He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth as if to punish her for trying to hurt him. Her senses were overloaded. He tasted like he had before, like spices, rich and dark. And his scent enveloped her, woods and musk. She stopped trying to pull away. After a few long moments he leaned back a little.
“Stop,” she begged. “Let me go. I- I don’t like this.”
“Really? You don’t like it? Is that why your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are dilated and you’re having trouble breathing normally? Because you don’t like it?” He slid his hand around her left wrist until his fingers settled over her pulse. “Your heart’s racing.”
“Because I’m scared!” she lied.
“Abby. Your nipples are rock hard, your tongue was in my mouth, and you were rubbing your pussy on my thigh.”
She looked down. Her face turned scarlet. “I was not,” she whispered.
He leaned in, his mouth so near she could feel his breath. He bit her earlobe. She yelped at the surprise pinch. “Don’t lie, Abby,” he murmured. “Not to me. Ever. I’ll know and I won’t like it.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
“You like them on top, Abby. You like the feel of their weight on you, pressing you into the mattress, restricting your movements. You also like it because they cover you. If you’re on top you feel too exposed, too much like you’re on display.”
She let out a breath. “How do you know ?” she couldn’t stop herself from whispering.
“Because I know what you are, Abby. And it doesn’t make you a slut. It just makes you a passionate woman with very specific needs, that’s all.”
Abby nearly scoffed. Passionate. She’d been called a lot of things. That had never been one of them. She sighed heavily. “Mark, I’m not-”
“Tomorrow night,” he said interrupting her. “Come to my house at 8 o’clock. I promise you I will give you a safe environment to learn more about yourself. Nothing out there, nothing too frightening. Just a chance to explore.”
He let her go, took a business card out of his pocket, and pressed it into her hand. “Tomorrow, 8 o’clock. Please come.” When he was gone, Abby inspected the card. It had his home address handwritten on the
He nodded. “And you like them on top?” he added.
Abby took a step back. This was getting strange. Mark took a step closer to her. “Stop,” she commanded, but he didn’t. He took another step closer. She retreated instinctively until her lower back pressed against the kitchen counter.
Mark stopped right in front of her. “You’re in total control in the bedroom,” he said. “Am I right?”
“W-what?”
“You have a lot of rules. Things you won’t do or let be done to you, right?”
Abby was now more angry than nervous. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Yes. Fine. I have rules. Tons of them. So there. I can’t possibly be submissive. I don’t let men walk all over me like I’m some kind of slutty toy they can use and throw away. I bet you think all women are submissive, or should be, especially to men. Well, I’m not.”
He surprised her by shaking his head. “Not all women are submissive. Some are very, very dominant. Some people are just born wired one way or the other, regardless of gender.”
That made her feel a little better. “Well, I’m not anything. I’m just-”
He closed the tiny gap between them and she put her hands to his chest to ward him off. He grabbed both of her wrists, forcing her arms to her sides.
“What are you doing?” she gasped. She struggled to get free but he wouldn’t let go. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was as unyielding as steel. He leaned down and took her mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue forced its way in. She made a noise of protest and moved to bring her knee up to his nuts.
He countered swiftly, shoving his own leg between hers and pressing into her. He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth as if to punish her for trying to hurt him. Her senses were overloaded. He tasted like he had before, like spices, rich and dark. And his scent enveloped her, woods and musk. She stopped trying to pull away. After a few long moments he leaned back a little.
“Stop,” she begged. “Let me go. I- I don’t like this.”
“Really? You don’t like it? Is that why your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are dilated and you’re having trouble breathing normally? Because you don’t like it?” He slid his hand around her left wrist until his fingers settled over her pulse. “Your heart’s racing.”
“Because I’m scared!” she lied.
“Abby. Your nipples are rock hard, your tongue was in my mouth, and you were rubbing your pussy on my thigh.”
She looked down. Her face turned scarlet. “I was not,” she whispered.
He leaned in, his mouth so near she could feel his breath. He bit her earlobe. She yelped at the surprise pinch. “Don’t lie, Abby,” he murmured. “Not to me. Ever. I’ll know and I won’t like it.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
“You like them on top, Abby. You like the feel of their weight on you, pressing you into the mattress, restricting your movements. You also like it because they cover you. If you’re on top you feel too exposed, too much like you’re on display.”
She let out a breath. “How do you know ?” she couldn’t stop herself from whispering.
“Because I know what you are, Abby. And it doesn’t make you a slut. It just makes you a passionate woman with very specific needs, that’s all.”
Abby nearly scoffed. Passionate. She’d been called a lot of things. That had never been one of them. She sighed heavily. “Mark, I’m not-”
“Tomorrow night,” he said interrupting her. “Come to my house at 8 o’clock. I promise you I will give you a safe environment to learn more about yourself. Nothing out there, nothing too frightening. Just a chance to explore.”
He let her go, took a business card out of his pocket, and pressed it into her hand. “Tomorrow, 8 o’clock. Please come.” When he was gone, Abby inspected the card. It had his home address handwritten on the
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