I try to recompose myself, but his hand that pulls my hair...The hand on my shoulder slowly creeps upward, toward my neck. His gaze still pins me down... I can't look away. Then I his hand tighten around my neck. My breath was hastened as is, now I become increasingly lightheaded. I try to clear my head and calm my breathing, but I feel like puddy in his hands.Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The word rings in my head time and time again. Yet I am incapable of resisting him it seems. Still. His eyes never wavered, though she could tell he felt the sting by the small tightening of his jaw. She went to his back and gazed at the gently sweep of his spine, following it to where it slipped beneath his jeans. Jealous of the coal black material, her fingers cupped the taut curve of his posterior. Her lips gently touched the welts that she had given him earlier, the need to be dominant no longer prevalent. His hands had stayed at his sides, but now she wanted them in her hair, and wrapped. More

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