Page 38 of Descent

“All right,” he says, not even seeming offended.

“I have to remember that.”

“You don’thaveto,” he says.

I don’t?

No, wait. I can’t trust what he tells me. He tells me crazy things, like let me take care of you, and I stay up at night thinking about you…

“What do you think about me?”

He regards me with a furrowed brow. “Hm?”

“The… you said you think about me when you’re trying to sleep at night. Was that true?”

He nods.

“So, what do you think?”

There’s nervous energy just below the foggy tiredness that just hit me, but Calvin is calm and collected, completely in control of himself as he answers steadily, “Lots of things. I think about your smile and how I’d like to see more of it. The differentkindsof smiles you have. What does your intimate smile look like? What do you look like when you’re darting a glance at someone you have a shared secret with?”

My head feels even more swimmy. “That’s specific,” I murmur.

“Mm-hmm.” He pushes his chair back and stands.

I try to gather up my wits as he walks over to me, knowing I’ll likely need them. “What are you doing?” I ask when he stops by my chair.

He offers his hand. “Dance with me.”

“There’s no music.”

I only realize after the fact, that’s not the reason I shouldn’t dance with him.

And then suddenly there is music, and he’s taking my hand and making me stand. It’s harder than it should be. My legs are wobbly and I can’t trust them. I can’t trust him, either, but I find myself leaning on him so I don’t fall.

My body warms once his heat is pressed against my front.

I shouldn’t dance with him. I should sit back down. That’s the right thing to do.

Abandon convention, Hallie.

His earlier sentiment echoes in my head. I don’t think that’s exactly what he said. Let go, I think that’s what he said.

“I wonder if you would have danced with me at your friend’s wedding without anyone watching.”

His words cut through the fog in my mind, but the fog seems to be growing denser, my body heavier. I’m not really dancing with Calvin so much as using him to hold up my weight.

He doesn’t seem to mind. He guides my arms around his neck and locks his arm around my waist, then he sways with me ever so slightly as the soft music plays in the background.

My body is so heavy.

So, so heavy.

My eyes drift closed. I’m resting my face against his shoulder, listening to the deep, calming tone of his voice. “I think about your lips and how they would feel wrapped around my cock. The look in your eyes when you know you’re well and truly trapped. If I could draw tears out of you when we’re playing without breaking you altogether. If it will feel as good as I remember when I thrust deep inside that perfect, velveteen pussy of yours and spill my seed again and again until it takes root.”

Wait, what?

I want to pull back. I try to, but I can’t. My body isn’t my own anymore.

---