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“You’re going to have to share your room with me, sweetheart,” he says, and he doesn’t allow me time to object or even savor that endearment, not that objection is on my mind. I’m thinking of nothing but his mouth and hands on my body and this time,mine on his.
He opens the door and enters the room, maneuvering me along with him. The door slams shut behind us, and he’s already kissing me again. This time when his fingers find my hair, he gives the long strands an erotic tug and drags my gaze to his.“Control in all things, Bella. It’s who I am. It’s what I need, not a want.”
“And as you remember,” I say, my fingers curling on his chest, “I don’t like what I can’t control, which I guess actually means I like control, too.”
“And you have it with me,” he promises. “Always. All you have to say is no, and we find what feels like a yes to you. You asked if I trust you. I’m asking you now if you trust me.”
I consider the complexity of the question. Do I trust him to listen when I say no? Yes. Do I trust him not to break my heart? I’m pretty sure that’s signed, sealed, and delivered, so, no. Do I trust him to make tonight all about pleasure? The kind of pleasure I’ll remember long after he is married off to his future fiancée. Yes. That’s a brutal yes because of where this is headed, which is nowhere but right here, right now, but one I can’t walk away from, either. “Yes,” I say. “I trust you.”
“I don’t think you do,Bella,” he murmurs, and the way he uses my name—it’s as if he wants me to know I’m not just sex to him. Or maybe I just want to believe that—evenneedto believe that—to be here with him, to be this intimate with him. Because I’m still me. I’m still not the sex-is-sex kind of girl, even if he aspires to change that in me. “But I want you to trust me so damn badly it’s insane,” he adds roughly, an edge of frustration in him, as if this statement somehow contradicts the control he so values.
It shakes me just how much I’m pleased that I’ve tormented him in some way, as if it’s selfish of me. I know this, but Lord also knows I’m tormented over this marriage agreement he’s obviously accepted. And if I think too hard about it, I will run. I will leave.
I don’t want to leave.
I press to my toes, desperate for his mouth and body, for that oblivion he’s shown me once that I crave again.
His grip tightens gently around my hair, the act both arousing and brutal, as he denies me his mouth. “I’m going to make you trust me, Bella,” he declares, and then, thank you Lord, his mouth slants over my mouth, his tongue caressing my tongue. And it’s a toe-curling, deep, drugging kiss that leaves me breathless when his lips part mine. “Get undressed,” he orders. “I want to watch.” He releases me and I am instantly cold where I was hot only moments before.
I stand there in disbelief as he sits down on the end of the bed, and I’m left standing, stunned by this sudden turn of events, by the way this has become the Bella show. It’s not like I’m inexperienced in the bedroom. I’ve certainly been treated like a Stretch Armstrong doll many a times by Travis. It often felt as if I was a toy he played with, not a woman he was making love to. I feel as if this should feel the same, but it doesn’t. I feel vulnerable, and wildly aroused, but also intimidated by the idea of standing naked in front of Tyler Hawk when he remains fully dressed. And yet, the burn of anticipation is as present as anything I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Undress, baby,” he says, that endearment, spoken softly, is the undoing of me, while the idea of being on show and at his mercy is also surprisingly arousing. And yet I hesitate, nervous energy, zipping wildly through my body.
Tyler reads me all too well, pushing to his feet and erasing the space between us in a few short steps. His hands settle under my hair on my neck, and he tilts my gaze to his. “Just be in the moment, Bella,” he urges gently. “Don’t overthink everything.”
“Why can’t you just do what you’re doing now? Touch me.”
“It’s better when you want and wait until you can want and wait no more.”
“I think we’ve had plenty of time to want and wait, Tyler.”
“And not enough time to enjoy being here, baby. I want to savor every minute with you and every inch of you.”
Heat settles low in my belly and my sex clenches, fingers curling around the cloth of his shirt. “It’s hard. We are—”
“Hot as hell for each other and that feels really damn good. I’m where I want to be right now. Are you?”
Right now.
I hate that I focus on the “right now” as a negative, a reminder that I’m nothing to him in the big picture. A reminder too, that sex is sex for him. But “right now” is also all that I’ll ever have with him and I’m not sure I will ever be as sexually charged with anyone else in this lifetime. I mean, if I don’t believe in love anymore, why am I denying myself pleasure? I’mnotgoing to deny myself pleasure. He’s right. It’s time to stop overthinking.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, I am right where I want to be.”
He brushes his lips over mine, his teeth nipping my bottom lip before he says, “I own you tonight, Bella. You’re mine. Say it. You know I’m going to make you say it.”
My lips curve and I don’t know what he expects of me, but it won’t be easy submission. He’ll have to work for it. “Yes,” I say. “I know what you want, but as for owning me, even for tonight. You can try.”
Chapter Forty-One
Tyler
I stroke my thumb over her cheek and say, “Challenge accepted, baby. Now you’re going to undress for me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll bend you over and fuck you and then it’s just over. And it would be a damn shame to waste this pent-up fuck energy on a quickie, don’t you think?”
She scrapes her teeth on her lip, a nervous energy to the action as she asks, “And if I undress for you?”
