"I don't want to rest." The words come out before I can think them through.
His hand stills on my back. "No?"
"No." I push up slightly so I can see his face. His grey eyes are darker now, heavy-lidded, watching me with an intensity that makes my stomach flip. "I want..."
I trail off, suddenly unsure how to say it. How to ask for what I want when I'm not even entirely sure what that is.
Except I do know.
I want him.
I want to feel him, all of him. I want to take back some of that control he talked about. I want to choose this, actively, completely, instead of just letting it happen to me.
"What do you want, Florrie?" His voice is careful, controlled, but I can feel the tension coiled in his body beneath me.
"I want you." I shift, sliding my leg over his hip so I'm straddling him. The movement makes me acutely aware that I'm still completely naked while he's still fully dressed. "I want more."
His hands come to my hips, gripping hard enough to leave marks. "More."
"Yes." I can feel him beneath me, hard and thick even through his pants. A bolt of heat shoots straight through me. "You gave me that, and it was... god, it was amazing. But I want all of it. I want you."
"Florrie." My name sounds strained. "You don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to." I lean down, my hair falling around us like a curtain. "Iwantto. There's a difference."
His jaw clenches, and I watch him war with himself. The urge to take versus the need to give me space. Control versus desire.
"Tell me what you want," he says finally. "Specifically."
The demand in his voice makes me shiver.
"I want to feel you inside me." The words come out steadier than I expected. "I want to choose this. I want to be on top so I can... so I have control."
Something flashes in his eyes. Heat and hunger.
"You want to ride me," he says bluntly.
My face flushes, but I nod. "Yes."
"Why?"
The question catches me off guard. "What do you mean, why?"
"Why do you want to be on top?" His hands slide up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. "Tell me."
I swallow hard, trying to organize my thoughts while his hands are doing very distracting things.
"Because everything that's happened since last night has been... out of my control," I say slowly. "The warehouse. The guns. You ‘claiming’ me. The mandate. All of it just... happened. And I survived it, but I didn't choose any of it."
His expression softens slightly. "And this?"
"This I'm choosing." I roll my hips deliberately, feeling him throb beneath me. "I want you, Leon. I want this. But I need to feel like I'm... like I'm doing it because I want to, not because I have to."
"You never have to," he says quietly. "Not with me."
"I know." And surprisingly, I do know. Despite everything, despite the impossible situation, I believe him. "But I still want to choose it. Want to take it for myself."
His hands tighten on my hips. "Then take it."
