Every decision she makes with him is one that she’s carefully considered, a pointed choice. From allowing him to give her both pleasure and pain to the solemn silence she emits now. Of course he could force her to speak if he wished, could have taken her body without a second thought to her wellbeing (as he had done to others before her). And yet he has not, does not. A choice. And that’s what keeps her thinking about him, the spider lurking behind the toilet. How for all his appearance he seems suited to the shadows but can’t seem to help the way he orbits to her sun.
She can tell she is pushing him in ways he’s probably not use to, the way his expression darkens and her pulse quickens with adrenaline as her fight or flight response kicks in. If it was anyone else she might be dead or worse. But she’s not just anyone. She refuses to buckle beneath his glower and simply gazes at him calmly as she refuses to get wrapped into his web. Pretending that she had not already been caught. His lips still brush against the arch of her back and she nearly purrs like the cat imprinted on her skin. Nearly.
A muscle works along his chiseled jaw and his temper flares again as she quietly states her truth. He tries to interrupt but she is not having it, calmly repeating herself again and holding his gaze and watches the words die on his tongue with a hint of satisfaction. No, he hadn’t been expecting that had he? She watches the way his lips twitch, the flash in those steely eyes. He knows what he is doing when he calls her by that name, an involuntary shudder of delight rippling across her withers were his dark lips still linger. She ignores the way desire courses through her veins, pretends as if she hasn’t flagged her tail for just a moment with him still pressed behind her as she comes full circle to face him directly.
“I saw the way you looked at me.” She states quietly, still keeping the conversation private between them. Remembering that exchanged glance between them before he had turned from her. Because I see the light at the end of YOUR tunnel. She thinks but doesn’t say. “You are more than your darkness.” She whispers instead as she reaches for him, dipping her own muzzle across the surface of the river and pressing her wet lips to where his pulse thunders beneath the thick skin of his neck. “And I am more than my brightness.”
She is thoughtful as she casts her golden gaze up to him, to find those storm clouds in his eyes. She shuffles through all of the ways he’s probably thought of to break her down. He could. He still could. He still might before all this is over. There is something broken in her already, something that believes that the only affection and love she might deserve is the kind he can give her. Something rough that’s hard to understand. It doesn’t mean she will tolerate outright cruelty though.
“I don’t belong to you.” She murmurs as her teeth place ardent nips along the slope of his shoulder. “You don’t belong to me.” She continues, a stutter in her heart at the thought of him consuming anyone else the way he had to her. A flicker of jealousy that she chases away because it doesn’t belong here, not when she was so resistant (so nervous) to being bridled and caught by him or anyone else. She was a unicorn after all. “I’ll be yours when you find me.” She finally says, surprised by her own nerve to say such a thing. Looking up at him beneath those long lashes, a hard line running through the coyness and lust he might find there. “But if you walk away from me again…” And here she shrugs nonchalantly, as if denying and ignoring him for the rest of her life would be an easy feat.
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Bardot![[Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/T37nJTF6/BQjeje-Bardot2.png)