Page 47 of Violent Hearts

She lowers her eyes and presses her lips together, a hint of shame traveling across her expression.

"It was intense," she admits. "And I'm sorry I passed out. I didn't want to ruin it for you like that."

"You didn't ruin anything. Was this the first time you were choked while getting fucked?"

She looks up at me, knitting her eyebrows as if I'd just said something ridiculous. "Of course it was. No normal person would do that."

"Did you not like it?" I ask. "Because if you didn't, I won't do it again."

Her face relaxes, making room for an expression that's impossible to read, solemn and contemplative, maybe sad. Is she afraid to tell me?

"You need to tell me if I ever do something you don't feel comfortable with," I say seriously. "We haven't established a safe word, but maybe we should if-"

"No, I liked it!" she interrupts me, lifting her hand. "That's not it. I liked it a lot, actually."

I knit my eyebrows and lean down so I'm at eye level with her, but she evades my gaze.

"What is it then?"

"Nothing," she lies. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me not to worry."

She turns to me and looks at me through narrowed eyes. "You're not my boyfriend, you don't have to care about this."

I roll my eyes at her. Does she really think she's the one who gets to draw the lines here?

"Maybe. But I also can't fuck a girl who keeps shit from me that I should know about," I say. "Believe it or not, I don't enjoy that."

She sighs and drinks from her coffee cup. "Have you never learned something new about yourself that... kind of shocked you?"

So that's it. She's afraid of that persona we're about to uncover. She has always been the strong girl, the confident one, strong-willed and mouthy. And now she realizes that she gets off on being humiliated, spanked, and choked by someone like me.

"No, I haven't," I tell her. "But I've seen many girls go through what you're going through right now. Believe me, you'll be fine."

"Of course I'm going to be fine!" she says, furrowing her eyebrows as she glares at me. "It's just..."

"New? Strange? Something that's hard to accept with who you thought you were?"

She huffs and nods. "Yeah. I guess you could say that."

I get closer to her, stroking along her neck and moving the long strands of hair to the side to reveal the bruises beneath. She lets it happen, neither moving away from my touch nor leaning into it.

"Don't question yourself," I tell her. "You're not weak for letting this happen. It's a part of you, something that makes you the person you are, in every aspect. You just need to find the right person to unveil that part of you."

She flinches when I let a finger travel across the sensitive skin of the bruise on her neck, tilting her head to the side to grant me access. Her eyes find mine and fixate on me solemnly.

"And you are that person?"

I should have expected that question, but still, I find myself unprepared to answer it.

"You should know the answer to that better than I do," I tell her. "Do you trust me?"

She ponders the question, moving her lips as if she's tasting the words, while tense silence stretches between us. I watch as she lowers her eyes and absentmindedly plays with her coffee mug, her slim fingers touching the brim, turning the mug in endless circles while she makes me wait for a reply.

"You know..."

She takes a deep breath and clears her throat before she continues speaking.

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