“Please don’t do that again,” he whispered, breathless, then looked directly into her eyes as he rolled his hips.
Kyla nodded and reached for him. Fuck the foreplay; this was just what she needed. She wanted him to slam into her over and over and over. He leaned back and started to pull out, looking like he didn’t believe her.
“No,” she pleaded, imploring him with her eyes. She didn’t want their connection broken. She put her arms around his neck and kicked her pants off one leg so she could wrap legs around his thighs and pull him closer. He stopped her with his index finger directly on her mouth.
“You can’t test me. I don’t want you to see that side of me. It’s not meant for you, that side. Okay? I only want you safe. Please believe me.”
She nodded frantically and kissed his fingertip. She was so afraid she’d never feel him like this again. She kissed him like her life depended on it.
“We have to talk about this,” he breathed and then moaned and picked up his pace, “later.”
He rained kisses on her mouth, her cheeks, her earlobes, her throat, as he drove in over and over and over, thumb on her clit, cock slamming into her, fucking her like his life depended on it. Kyla received every thrust like it was a gift, tears pouring down her cheeks when she climaxed. He caught every tear, kissed every one of them away, looking at her with tenderness.
Then he climaxed and she felt like her whole body went liquid and this peace came over her. When it was over, still breathless, he caressed her face and rolled over onto his back and pulled her onto him, “All day I wanted you to come to me.”
“You were so mad at me,” she whispered, thinking about the fact that he hadn’t fed from her.
“I know.” He sniffed her hair, “Tell me how you feel.”
“I ---” She couldn’t speak.
“I need your words,” he said slowly but firmly and she knew they were at some sort of tipping point. She frowned. He opened his eyes wider and jerked his chin up at her, urging her to say something.
“Sorry. I…I’m sorry if I hurt you when you thought that … whatever you thought. I still don’t understand what happened there when I lost it and because it didn’t make sense and because it made me feel things so deeply, I ran. I also ran because that’s what you do when someone has you prisoner and I ran because I was scared. I don’t understand these feelings I have. I don’t understand this world I’m in. But I, I…I regret hurting you. It hurt to see pain in your eyes, hurt me so much, I couldn’t get that image out of my head. I don’t know what this is, I don’t know how to do this, Tristan. But I won’t try to take off right now. I can’t make you any promises other than that I’m willing to listen to what you have to say. I wanna know what we’re dealing with here. That might not be what you want to hear, I don’t know. I don’t know what you want but I’m trying to be honest.”
She felt magnetized but she wasn’t a paperclip this time, not a paperclip that had no choice but to get sucked into that magnet, she was north and he was south and there was a mutual pull. She started to feel very emotional. She’d had a lot of time to think in the last few days but at this moment things were suddenly gaining more clarity. She wanted to explore this, whatever this was. Wanted him. Whether it was chemistry, voodoo, or some form of entrancing, she was in. If it meant she could have these feelings, this connection, she was in. The alternative, the not feeling him, the not touching him --- the pain, unthinkable.
“You can’t run. Please don’t try. I’ll explain everything and then hopefully you’ll understand why running isn’t an option. Ever.” His voice was slightly threatening and then his eyes softened, “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Mmm hmm. The key. You surprised me, you know? You stayed there with that chain on for days when you had the key.” He brushed her hair behind an ear with his fingertips.
She whimpered and buried her head into his chest. She knew her actions didn’t make sense. Her emotions didn’t make sense, either. But what did she know about emotion, really? She’d avoided it for so long.
“I need to feed, baby. Did you eat today?” he whispered this gently.
Kyla’s heart sank. She was under no illusions about the fact that this bizarre scenario was about her blood but felt, suddenly, like she wanted this to be about something else. She wanted to separate things. She wanted to separate them both from the fear and confusion she felt. Separate the blood from the sex. Separate imprisonment from free will. Separate the monster from the gorgeous man who made her insides liquefy when he looked at her and made her feel like never before when he touched her. Separate the blue from the black and never see or feel the black again.