I shrugged. “Maybe. I guess so.”
Niklas ran his hands up and down my thighs a few times before he spoke.
“I’ll try to explain what I want, so that’s clear first,” he said. “You’re right that I’ve resisted anything that feels too…too intense. In my own past, sex hasn’t really meant that much, and I wanted to stay away from anything that could feel like that. Partly because I was a little scared of how I’d react. Hockey gets a part of me going, a part that wants to fight and win and fuck. And I’m still a little wary of that part of me when I’m around you.”
The crass reference to his past conquests stung. But the deep creases across his forehead told me this conversation was difficult for him. He was baring his vulnerabilities, too.
“I’m a little wary of the part of me that likes the rougher side of you,” I said. “And I don’t know how that fits into what we’re doing now.”
Niklas frowned deeply. “Were you nervous?”
I shook my head. “No, not quite. Not in a bad way. And I guess that’s part of the problem.”
Niklas brought his hands to my face, stroking my cheeks and my neck. “Caroline, I’ve never been turned on by the idea of hurting a woman, not before you and absolutely not now.”
I winced at the discussion about abuse, so unvarnished. He traced my jaw with his fingers, his eyes still fixed on mine.
“I don’t like talking about this any more than you do, especially connected to what just happened in the shower,” he whispered. “But I don’t want this hanging between us, either.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a long breath before he continued.
“I used to be more afraid that aggression and sex were connected when we first got together. Like it was some dormant part of me that would come out unexpectedly. But craving a release with you after getting worked up isn’t the same as mixing up sex and aggression. For me, sex is all about pleasure, yours and mine. I just really, really like to be in control sometimes.”
He kissed me again, slower this time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him a little closer. He traced the sides of my body, down my neck and over my shoulders. He continued along my ribcage and my waist until his hands rested on my hips. His thumbs played with the edge of my t-shirt, slipping under to find my skin, still hot from our long shower.
His voice came out husky and low when he spoke again. “Having you like that is still the hottest thing I can imagine when I’m in that mood. Just talking about it is going to make me hard. But it’s not the only thing I want. When I came, I wanted to hold onto you and never let go.”
I closed my eyes, the scene from the shower replaying in my mind, over and over. His heavy body over mine as I whispered words I never thought I’d say. And I had meant them. The image sent an erotic jolt through me. I could feel my body beg to explore this new territory again, chased by the same uneasiness that had dogged me before. I opened my eyes again and met Niklas’s, and the flush creeping up the back of my neck.
“Niklas, you’re all hard muscle and probably twice as big as me. I came to the rink today to see if that part of you—the part of you that gets into fights and won’t let up until you win—I wanted to see if that was part of what turns me on about you.”
Niklas’s mouth parted as I spoke, and he moved his hands onto my bare skin. He took a thick breath.
“And did it turn you on?” he groaned.
I nodded. The conversation was quickly taking another turn, and I wasn’t sure I knew how to get it back onto more steady ground. Just the tone of his voice reminded me of things he had whispered in my ear.
“You didn’t want it to?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Why?”
Pulling together my thoughts wasn’t working well, so instead I simply opened my mouth and let the ideas fall out.
“Because it makes me one in a long line of women who you have fun with until you get tired of them. Because no educated, self-respecting woman today chooses to give herself over to a man completely. Because no Catholic woman wants sex this much.”
His eyes widened. “You sure you’re Catholic?”
I sighed.
“Sort-of,” I said. “On paper, at least.”
The corners of his mouth turned up.
“Lucky for me, some of the religion’s tenets seem to be flexible.”
I let out a little snort of laughter and rested my forehead on his. Niklas’s hands left my sides, and he brought them up to lift my face, coaxing me to meet his eyes.
