He stills.
"Cole—"
I put my mouth on the back of his neck and bite down, teeth sinking into the tendon below his hairline until his head drops forward and the sound in his throat breaks against my tongue.
I grip his shoulders and turn him to face me. He resists, his body refusing for half a second to be moved.
He didn't used to hesitate when I touched him.
I kiss him before he can speak. Hard. My hand on the back of his neck. He responds, hands to my waist, but there's a lag, a half-second where his body is here and somewhere else.
I bite his lip. He jerks away.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?"
I push him onto the bed with both hands on his chest. He lands on his back, but his hand catches my wrist and grips.
We stare at each other. His fingers tighten around my wrist.
"You going to let go?" I ask.
"You going to tell me what this is about?"
"No."
I straddle him and settle my weight, rolling my hips down against him slow enough that his jaw clenches. He's half hard already.
"I know you used her word this morning," I say. "Fine. You've said that word maybe three times in your life."
I roll my hips again. His cock stiffens against me.
"I know it took almost two hours before you texted me back." I lean down and trace the faded mark on his jaw with my thumb. Four points of pressure. "And I know you came home with this."
His breathing changes. "Are you going to ask me what happened?"
"No." I pull my shirt off. "I'm going to remind you what you already have."
A shift moves through his face. I lean down and bite the place where his neck meets his shoulder, harder than I've ever bitten him. His back arches.
"Cole, fuck—"
I work down his chest with my teeth and tongue, marking every inch. He grabs my hair and yanks me back up. His mouth crushes mine, his tongue pushing in, his hand holding my head in place.
I shove his chest and pin him flat.
"My pace tonight."
He grabs my hips and flips me. My back hits the mattress, his weight on top, his hands pinning my wrists.
His face is above mine, his breathing hard.
"You don't get to change the rules because you're upset," he says.
"I'm upset because you changed the rules first."
His grip loosens. I wrench my wrist free, hook my leg around his hip, twist, and roll us. He lands on his back, and I'm on top, panting.
