Page 48 of Vienna Bargain

“I never said I wasn’t a bit of a masochist. I said I enjoy the pain as part of the power exchange, not for its own sake.”

“Is this the… Is this the…” He pressed his face into her hair and went silent.

She wanted to turn around and hug him. “It’s okay to stutter.”

“I do not have a stutter.”

“Yes, you do, and you’re too smart to seriously be denying it—”

Alexander tightened his hold on her hair, then pushed her forward. He marched her across the room, towards the window, not stopping until her naked body was pressed to the glass, her breasts flattened to it.

“I don’t have a stutter.” He leaned into her, but instead of threatening, it felt almost as if he were resting on her, relaxing into her. She’d turned her head to the side so her nose wasn’t smushed against the glass, but she still couldn’t see him, since he was keeping his face at the back of her head, his lips brushing her hair as he spoke. “Not a medical stutter. My parents had me tested for that.”

Alena went still. It was the first time he’d mentioned something so personal.

“But I don’t always speak clearly. If I don’t think about my words before I say them, I ‘ramble’ and ‘sound like an idiot’.”

She could hear the quotation marks around those statements.

“Who said that to you?”

“My father. Many times.”

Alena reached back and found his hand. She laced their fingers together. “Is that why you’re quiet?”

“It’s best not to talk unless I know precisely what I’m going to say.”

“You don’t have to do that with me.”

There was a long pause. “I thought you liked it. You called me your quiet man, once.”

“I do. But I also like it when you talk. I like it when you’re not so controlled and—”

He grabbed the hair at the top of her head, jerking it back so she was looking at the ceiling. “Another lie?”

“No.”

“Then you’re not a submissive.”

“I am.” She took a breath, tried to be more honest with him since at least when it came to this, she could be. “I mean I was. I had sort of…grown out of it. Until you.”

“A submissive doesn’t like a man who isn’t controlled. A real submissive—”

“That is utter bullshit. First of all, don’t mansplain being a submissive to me.” She tried to shove away from the window but he forced her back.

Damn it, that was hot. Still, she would not be distracted. “Second of all, yes, in the middle of a scene I do want a man who takes control. Who will push me, punish me…” She briefly lost her train of thought as she remembered why they’d come upstairs.

“You want to be forced to accept your punishments. Forced to be a masochist.”

“Maybe.” Alena squeezed his fingers, and the dichotomy between him holding her hand in a lover’s touch, versus his other hand pulling her hair, was making her feel insane. And needy.

“I want to know when you’re so turned on that your thoughts and words are scrambled,” she said softly. “I want to know that you feel the same things I do.”

Alexander released her, and by the time she turned he was already several feet away, his face twisted to the side so she couldn’t see his expression.

“Alexander…”

“No.” When he raised his head, his face was hard, his expression cold. “Stay at the window. Press your breasts against the glass.”