Page 61 of Until I Have You

I go limp in his arms, the grip of my hand weakening until the glass tumbles to the ground and whisky spills at our feet.

I sigh into his warm, velvet mouth.

I have kissed and been kissed before, but I’ve always been too aware of myself in the process.With Theo, all I have to do is feel the wash of euphoria coast over me.

If he can cause euphoria with one kiss, I’m afraid of what he’s capable of in the bedroom.

Theo drags his mouth away from mine.“My terms,” he rasps, “are this.”

I say nothing.I am at his disposal.

“One night.In my bed.”

His voice rumbles against my back, vibrations coursing down to my center.

“You let me take control.”

My next exhale is a wanting sigh.

“You yield your pleasure to me entirely.”

When men have wanted to take control in the past, there was always some level of pent-up aggression.They want to push me down, throw me around, tie me up, show me their dominance.Never has a man expressed his dominance to me like this.

“I won’t hurt you.I won’t restrain you.But your orgasms are mine.”

Orgasms?With an ‘s’?

“And we never speak of this night again.Is that all clear, Abigail?”

I wanted him before.But now I need him, my body turning to molten lava under his hands.“Crystal.”

I lean in to kiss him, but he dodges me, gripping my hand and pulling.“Come.”

I follow him in a daze down the hall of the co-op, the floor creaking under each and every step.

His grip is strong, but not painful.

I am both terrified and more at peace than I’ve been in a long,longtime.

For once, everything is out of my hands and in someone else’s.

I don’t have to be scrambling to find the next job application or making some sort of excuse for why I haven’t been hired.I don’t need to wonder about the intricacies of the world or the whys of my feelings.I don’t have to judge myself, don’t have to wonder why I am not anyone’s first choice for anything.

Tonight, I am Theo’s first choice.

And I will cherish that for a long time.

Theo’s bedroom is crisp and clean.Almost like a hotel room.No personal touches.

That’s good.That will help remind me this night is a one-time thing.

I won’t have any details to glom onto about his bedroom.It’s only a white duvet and wooden furniture.There is art, but it’s not hanging on the walls quite yet.Pieces have been leaned up against various walls as if he’s planning where things go.Light, airy curtains frame the windows, letting in the New York City glow.

“Go by the window and take off your dress,” he instructs me, his voice heavy with desire.

I glance back at him, confusion riddling my brow.

But Theo is not confused.

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