Page 39 of Volatile

“Then let her have them the normal way.”

“Tell me exactly what you consider to be the normal way.” He rotated her around to face him, and her head gave a little jerk. He fingered a strand of her hair, twirling a curl around his finger. “What’s normal in your world, Ivy?”

“Don’t... just don’t. I can’t think straight with you looking at me like that.”

“You don’t have to look back.” She didn’t back down, but her eyes darkened. “I just want to know what you consider the right way, so there’s no confusion between us. Normal is too vague. I want specifics.”

“I can’t answer that. Just normal, okay?”

She tried shifting off his lap, but he kept her still. “If you can’t even define it, how do you determine when something isn’t?”

He was frustrating her, and to an extent, that’s what he wanted. It wasn’t a one-size-fits-all world, despite what her mind told her.

“Are there only certain sexual positions acceptable to you?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Missionary is pretty conventional, wouldn’t you say? But with the man pinning the woman underneath, it’s also one of dominance. Now, if the woman’s on top, she can be perceived as having more control, but is that considered normal? It’s not considered traditional. There are those out there who would even call it deviant.” He grasped more of her hair, winding it around his hand. “And where would a hard fuck against the wall fit into all of this?”

She gasped and tugged away but didn’t get too far with his hold on her. “We are not having this conversation.”

He went deeper into her dark curls, the silkiness covering his skin like a satin glove. “I fucking adore your hair.”

“What?”

“Your hair, Ivy. I could get lost in it.” It wasn’t the color he usually had wrapped around him, but he was mesmerized all the same. The thought of it gliding over his cock made him throb. Thinking of her on her knees while he stared down on it made him a fucking rock.

“Jon, I....” She started trembling again but made no move to get away.

He stroked her hair, grazing the side of her face. “Let me take care of you. Just for tonight. I want you to switch off your mind and just enjoy. Can you do that for me?”

She leaned into his touch, eyes dropping to half-mast. A few seconds later, she stiffened, and her lids popped wide open. “I need to know why you’re doing this, what you’re thinking.”

He continued touching her, gliding his fingertips over her lips. Her body wanted this just as badly as he wanted to give it to her. He had a need to focus only on her pleasure. His raging erection would have to wait.

“I’m thinking about how beautiful you are, that’s all.”

“Tell me about the woman in the painting.”

It was his turn to tense up. “No,” he said. He was not going to talk about Julia. She hadn’t even been in his mind until Ivy brought her up.

“No?”

“That’s correct. No.”

He only cared to think about the woman curled in his lap, her deep, rich curls and her acorn-colored eyes. She reminded him of the majestic oaks in his yard. That made him smile. He fucking loved those trees.

“That’s not fair, Jon. Why can you ask all these questions, but I can’t?”

“Are you referring to the questions that you either can’t or won’t answer, or the questions that you do answer, but not honestly?”

She flashed him a dirty look, and he laughed, right before he brushed his lips against hers. She let out a sweet sigh, probably against her will, but it didn’t take much coercion on his part before she melted all over him. So damn responsive.

“Just let me do this for you, Ivy. No more questions. From either of us. I want the rest of the night to be all about pleasure. Me giving it. You receiving it.”

She moaned again when his kiss deepened, as he circled his tongue around hers, exploring the softness of her mouth. His lips traveled down to her neck, finding that perfect balance between strong and gentle, not slowing until she was a wet puddle in his lap.

He laid her down on the blanket, grasping both of her hands in his, as he positioned himself over her. Careful not to touch or contain her, he gave her the illusion of having control over the situation. But in reality, she was all his. Domination wasn’t just physical, and in his mind, it was the least of it. He wanted her to experience submission without even realizing she was submitting to him. That’s all he was asking of her then. To let him own all the pleasure that was about to flood her body.

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