I place my palm over my lower belly.
"Things I didn’t know I wanted to feel. Things that disturbed me and aroused me at the same time."
He rubs his thumb over the side of my throat. My heart flips. My pulse races. I can feel the ridge of his cock through the fabric of his pants and mine. And it feels heavy. And good. So good.
"I want this." I search his features. "I do."
"Want what?" His gaze is both interested and shuttered.
"I want to find out how it’ll feel when you choke me when we…fuck."
A plethora of expressions sweeps across his face. Lust tempered by caution and maybe, some guilt.
"You didn’t hurt me that day."
His brow furrows. "There were bruises around your throat."
"Best jewelry ever."
His pupils dilate. He seems both turned on and also fighting not to be turned on.
I tip up my chin. “I liked seeing the proof of how much you wanted me."
His throat moves as he swallows. He seems torn. "I don’t want to trigger you."
"You won’t. I know you’ll be careful. That you’ll be slow with me. I know you’ll check in to make sure I’m not scared."
"And are you?"
I shake my head. "I’m excited. And curious. I want to find out how it’ll feel."
"I can’t risk losing control with you."
I chuckle. "James Hamilton losing control? That’s impossible."
"You make it possible." His mouth twists. "I’m here, bending you over my kitchen counter, one step away from fucking you."
His words are self-deprecating. But there’s a thread of wonder running through it. It lifts my heart. Makes me want him to open himself more to me.
"I am your safe place, James. You can be anything with me. You can do anything to me. You won’t find any judgment from me."
His eyes widen. He seems to be struggling with making sense of what he’s feeling. Then he slowly helps me sit up. He steps back, straightens my clothes, and disappointment squeezes my belly.
He must sense it, for he kisses my forehead. "I want you, Ember. But… It’s my responsibility to keep you safe. I need to manage the triggers that my PTSD brings up, so I’m never a threat to you. What happened that day in my bed wasn’t consensual. I took you by surprise."
"And I wanted more."
He frowns.
"I still do, James."
He searches my features more, then slowly nods. "Okay." He helps medown from the counter. "But I will evaluate all the scenarios and determine when it’s safe for you.”
He puts away the ice cream tub, rinses my spoon and his tumbler, putting them in the dishwasher. Then he leads me to the staircase.
When we reach my bedroom, he bends and kisses me on my forehead. "Sleep well."
I step inside, shutting the door behind me. Then hang my head. I slide my fingers around my throat and squeeze. I don’t feel anything. I can’t fool my body. Only James can elicit those deep, dark feelings that burn me up, and whisper that what I want is taboo, which only heightens the anticipation of what's to come.
