Page 31 of A Debt of Darkness

“I don’t want this.”

“You don’t know what you want, pet.”

I damn well do, and I scream and thrash again, while Henry holds me firmly, ignoring my protests. I’m surprised how long I keep them up for and eventually my screams turn into sobs, leaving me crying underneath him.

“Pet…”

“DON’T. FUCKING. CALL. ME. PET.”

“Then give me an alternative. I asked before and you wouldn’t engage.”

I rail again and Henry holds me down, arching his eyebrow.

“Ivy, we will stay like this until you stop fighting me. Until I’m convinced you’ve stopped fighting me.” He watches my bottom lip tremble. “I have endless patience. You won’t win this one. Give in. Let me have control.”

My tears run faster and burn my skin, and my cries become frantic. This isn’t pretty, this isn’t soft. This feels forced. This feels pressured. I’m being bent into a shape I don’t want to and I don’t know how to stop it.

“I don’t want this, Henry.”

“You do,” he replies. “You’ll understand soon.”

His grip tightens again as he anticipates another reaction and the sharp sting of pain shoots up my arm. He’s right—he won’t give in and this isn’t a fight I can win. I need to cut my losses, be smart and save my energy for a fight when I stand a chance.

I turn my head away and sob bitterly.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “That’s better. You’re doing so well for me.”

I hate him and I hate his words.

I hate the way they roll off his tongue and make my clit throb.

I hate the disgusting things he says and the way they send my arousal soaring.

I hate his praise because I want more of it and it’s reducing me to a pathetic little girl who’d do anything for a few words more.

His weight sinks onto me as he releases a wrist. I freeze for a moment before Henry’s hand moves towards my face and I flinch, expecting retaliation.

He stops and his fingers run down my cheek. It's gentle. It's kind. It's nice. It's even nicer when he strokes my hair and wipes away my tears as he stares at me like he’s going to kill someone.

“I will never hit you in anger. I don't retaliate out of spite. Tell me who hurt you, Ivy.”

My lip quivers again and I shake my head.

“When you're ready,” he says, stroking my face and helping me calm. “It doesn't change anything between us. It doesn't alter my affection. But when I find out who hurt my wife, they're going to wish they hadn't.”

He doesn't move, except to keep stroking me, and I exhale loudly, finally releasing my tension.

“I'm going to kiss you, Ivy. On the cheek. Don't fight me. You need this.”

I've given up. For now. His lips brush my skin and I pretend it isn’t easing my anxiety. I try not to notice the softness of his lips. I ignore the little electric currents he sends shooting down my spine.

Henry plants featherlight kisses over my face and whispers everything's okay. He takes his time and he's sodifferent from how he was moments ago. It's a shift in his mood designed to tempt me with the easy and kind person he can be.

We could have this if I accepted his rules. It’s the soft he can be when he isn't forced to be hard. He’s offering pleasure when all he's given me is pain. He’s dangling a worm to get me on the hook.

It's psychological manipulation and I won't be fooled.

I sigh and Henry hums. He lets me breathe and I let him hold me. It's not right, but it isn't wrong. We've found a balance and I'm not sure I'm happy about it.

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