Page 82 of Choke

The intensity of this moment, with her body pressed against mine and free from any barriers, is sobering. I see and feel her shift something in me—a pull toward tenderness. But we’re not there; she hasn’t earned tenderness. I literally shake myself. She notices themovement, as subtle as it is, and her eyebrows knit together, concern etched on her face. I force my expression into one of neutrality and indifference.

“Turn around,” I command.

She hesitates briefly before spinning, sitting on her knees before me. I sink onto my knees, one on each side of her ass, and reach out to her wild hair, twisting it into a long braid down her back. Her skin feels like fire, raging against my hands as I work. Her shoulders are tense, and I can only imagine the thoughts going through her head. I can’t imagine she thought I’d be braiding her hair while she’s completely naked, on her knees, in this dimly lit bedroom.

But I’ve wanted to do this for so long, too long, five years.

I review my handiwork, fingers ghosting over the long braid. Having a sister taught me a thing or two about braiding hair. My gaze trails lower, mapping the ink across her back—flowers on her shoulders, butterflies, and other scattered pieces of her story etched into her skin. She shifts slightly, peering over her left shoulder at me, looking unsure. I stop myself from shaking my head clear again.

“Stand up, Lex.”

With intentional movements, she shifts onto her hands slightly and lifts off her knees, letting her ass come up first and giving me a perfect view of her pussy. And holy fuck, she’s soaked, gleaming in the dim light. I follow, running my hands up the side of her thighs as I rise, loving the way she shudders under my touch. I guide her to turn around and face me; without me asking, she lifts her eyes back to mine.

She’ll be my undoing.

Dragging my hand up her stomach, over her breast, I firmly grab the braid, wrapping it around her neck and pulling her into me so our noses almost touch. She doesn’t try to pull back or avert her eyes.

So stubborn. So fucking beautiful.

“What do you want from me, Lex?”

I silently cheer my ability to keep my tone even, bordering on uninterested. Her lips part slightly, and no words come out, but her thighs rub together.

“I don’t want to guess. Tell me exactly what you want—and what you think you deserve after pulling that stunt.”

Her breath stutters, and her voice is barely above a whisper when she finally speaks. Even in the dim light, the flush creeping up her neck is unmistakable.

“I want you to fuck me.”

A slow smile tugs at my lips.

She likes to play with fire.

Fittingly, I like to watch things burn.

I use my hand, which is still holding her braid wrapped around her neck, to shove her back—her legs hit the bed, and she falls backward, and for the first time tonight, she closes her eyes. Her long lashes rest against her cheekbones, and she looks like a fucking angel. Her heart is pounding so hard that her chest jumps in rapid succession.

I’m so fucked.

I take two steps toward the bed, pulling my shirt off as I go, and there’s a flicker of surprise when her eyes open again and sees that I’ve shed some clothing and am lowering myself over top of her.

“You know the rules,” I say, statement, not a question.

The look of confusion crosses her face again, and there’s only so much I’ll tolerate the damsel in distress act.

She knows.

My voice is gruff and somewhat harsh when I continue.

“Don’t play with me. Tell me. Tell me you know the rules.”

I see the look of resignation and disappointment, maybe some excitement.

“Don’t come,” she breathes.

“That’s right, baby.”

She looks like she might cry, and before I cave and give her what I know she’s desperate for, I push off and lower myself between her legs, wrapping my arms around her thighs and pulling her to me, diving into her pussy with such ferocity that I fully expect her to come, whether she thinks she’s allowed to or not.

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