Page 20 of Volatile

Fuck, she was exasperating. Downright explosive. “Damn it, woman. Let me speak. Do you think you can do that?”

She glared at him through slits. He might be pushing his luck, but she came there for a reason, and he was going to do what he could to settle her ass down and make her listen.

“I never once thought this would be easy for you, Ivy, but I’d like the simple courtesy of not being interrupted.” More daggers. “And just because I expect a give and take conversation doesn’t mean I expect you to embrace everything I’m saying right from the get-go.”

“Because I’m not a victim, you mean.”

“No, because you’re not submissive.” Hell, no. Not even close.

“That’s correct. I’m not weak.”

“Submission isn’t weakness. It’s strength.” He had a hard time believing in this day and age with BDSM practically becoming the new vanilla that there were those who still bought all the old misconceptions. But then he had to remind himself that not everyone was in his world.

“Bullshit.”

Yeah, this was going well. A fucking walk in the park. “Look, Ivy. I’m not saying this lifestyle is for everyone. I’m not telling you to welcome it with open arms and make it your own. You have the right to decide how you want to live your life, but that’s my entire point here. You need to keep an open mind. For Lily. Because she also has that same right.”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s wrong.”

His mind raced around potential avenues, not sure which direction to take. His goal had been to clear the way for Lily to talk to her later, but there was no way he was getting into specifics right then. Ivy couldn’t even handle the little he’d given her so far. She was going to end up losing her sister if she didn’t open that mind a crack.

But even if Ivy had been more receptive, he wouldn’t have revealed details. Not until he checked out Lily’s Dom for himself. Jon approved of what he’d heard so far, but that didn’t replace an in-person meeting. Lily had slipped up during the session and mentioned the guy’s name, likely not even realizing it. Jon had a first name, and he knew the club. That was all he needed.

“Lily’s exploring her needs and wants. It’s healthy. Can’t you at least try to accept that?”

“No. It’s sick and disgusting, and I’m not pretending otherwise. Even for her sake. Especially for her sake. Whoever did this to her has her brainwashed and made her think it’s okay. For God’s sake, Jon, you’re a therapist! You should be doing something to stop this.”

“Exactly. I’m a therapist and I don’t hold the same opinion.” Man, she was pissed. He wasn’t even that close to her, and he could feel the steam.

“You speak of consent, like that makes it all right? When a woman allows herself to be hit over and over and is too scared to leave... what about then? Isn’t that consent because she’s choosing to stay there? How the hell is that any different from this BDSM shit?”

“Because abuse is based on fear. There is no place for fear in a healthy BDSM relationship. The submissive has all the control, unlike in an abusive situation. The Dominant receives pleasure from giving, not power-mongering.”

“I can’t believe you’re trying to sell me this load of crap. And you’re counseling Lily... encouraging this? What the hell is wrong with you? And she told me what happened with that guy is over. Are you saying he’s trying to lure her back in?”

“I’m saying no such thing. And the only thing I’m encouraging her to do is have a happy, healthy, fulfilling relationship.” Jon smirked. “Surely, that’s something you’re well acquainted with, Ivy. Everyone should be so lucky, isn’t that right?”

Her body tensed. Good. He was inches away from his breaking point, and his patience was blasting out the fucking window. Let her be a little uncomfortable.

“Well, what about doling out pain?” she blurted out. “How in the world is that acceptable?”

“You don’t think there’s ever a time when pain can be pleasurable?”

“Of course not. Pain is pain. Pleasure is pleasure. They’re hardly the same thing.”

Jon moved closer, and for the first time, her eyes shifted away. She stared straight ahead, face pulled tight, fingers drumming her knees like she was ticking down. Fucking time bomb.

“Maybe I can appeal to you in a different way. You and Wes share a wildly passionate relationship. There’s never a time when things get just a tad out of control in the bedroom?” Her mouth dropped, but she shut it quickly. “A little bite here, a little pinch there. Maybe a slap in the heat of the moment, leaving just a hint of a mark?”

“Absolutely not.” Her fingers took on a quicker pace, pounding her legs. She was going to give herself bruises and then what? Citizen’s arrest herself?

“Play with me here, Ivy, and imagine this scenario. One night the love-making takes an unexpected turn, you know, because of your intense passion for one another. There’s a bit of roughness in the moment. Now, when you’re both just going about your regular day, this would never happen to you, of course. You wouldn’t allow it. But between the excitement of ripping off each other’s clothes and the desperate need to feel your naked bodies collide, all your logic gets shot to hell. You both get too wild because you can’t get close enough. You end up having the best orgasm of your life, but in the morning you find a small bruise on your hip from where he gripped so hard while taking you from behind. Do you rush right out and file a domestic abuse report?”

“I....” She stammered and stopped, gloriously speechless. She couldn’t seem to get comfortable; her ass was shifting all over the place. He was enjoying watching her squirm. It was perfect. He wanted her to question her black and white world, to plant that tiny seed in her. Maybe it’d grow into a shred of empathy for her sister. Not all bruises were caused by anger.

He moved even closer, near enough to touch the dark hair spilling down her back, the curls snaking around her shoulders.

“You could never envision a situation where you’d lose control or allow another to do the same, all in the name of passion?” She shook her head so slightly like her brain was forcing the action while the rest of her fought it. “No? I must say, I’m surprised, Ivy. Someone like you with a smoking hot relationship must find new marks all over your body on a regular basis.”

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