Page 42 of Truth

“How do you feel about what happened?”

I was confused again.

“I don’t understand.”

He began rubbing his hands up and down my thighs absentmindedly. The fabric of my dress moved under his palms, scraping lightly against my skin. It was distracting.

“How did you feel about me pulling your hair and fucking your mouth?”

Time stopped.

“Brianna?”

I didn’t answer. My mouth felt dry all of a sudden.

“Brianna, look at me.”

I looked at him.

“What are you feeling right now?”

I thought about it for a moment before answering. It wasn’t panic or fear exactly. There was some of that, but that wasn’t it entirely. “I feel... numb? No. I don’t know. Like...”

“Like, what?”

“Like I’m... waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” he prompted when I didn’t continue.

“I... I don’t know.”

He took my hands and placed them on his chest. “Can you feel me? Feel me under your hands?”

I nodded, and the strange suspended feeling began to fade.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

He smiled.

“We need to talk about this, Brianna. I need to know how you feel, what you think about what happened tonight when I came home. Is that what you wanted? Is it what you expected to happen?”

I curled my fingers into the soft cotton of his shirt. “I... I didn’t know... what would happen.”

He lifted his right hand and began running his fingers along my scalp as he had when I was kneeling. “I know you’ve said you enjoy kneeling, and you like when I run my fingers through your hair like this.”

I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensations his ministrations brought to the surface.

“What about the rest? You have to tell me, Brianna. I can’t read your mind.”

When I didn’t say anything right away, he tugged on my hair. It wasn’t as hard as he had before, but my body still responded.

He gave my hair another tug.

“I... I liked it.”

Then as if to test the theory, he wrapped his hand around my hair as he had before and pulled hard enough to jerk my head back, exposing my neck. I automatically closed my eyes. “Eyes open, Brianna.”

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