Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

up to me. Reality pierces my bubble and reminds me how sordid this is.
Discomfort seeps in and ruins everything.
I want him to stop touching me, but I don’t want to tell him to stop and trigger… whatever will
happen if I tell him to stop.
Sensing gentleness is the best way to approach him, I reach down and wrap my fingers around
his wrist. He stops, but only for a second to see what I want.
My heart flutters at the knowledge that for just this moment, I have a bit of power here. If I don’t
do anything with it, I have little doubt he’ll go back to disregarding my wants, but when I actually
express myself… I don’t know, it seems like he’s more responsive. It’s a twisted thing to consider a
favor or an allowance, but when I asked him not to hurt me, he didn’t.
Taking advantage of this fleeting opportunity to guide what happens next, I reach for him and pull
gently. His eyes narrow in consideration, but he’s curious enough to see what I want. He takes his
hand from between my legs and lets me guide him closer. When he’s on top of me, our bodies skin
against skin, his face mere inches away, I wonder if I’ve made the wrong choice.
The problem is, there are no right choices here.
I swallow and summon what’s left of my courage. I reach up and tentatively caress his hard jaw,
then I lean up just a little, and he leans down.
Our lips meet and a thrill shoots through me. It’s not the good kind of thrill, the kind you get when
something amazing happens. It’s the kind you get when you’re standing on the edge of a mountain and
the earth gives beneath your feet. The feeling you only get for a split second before the ground beneath
you crumbles and you plunge to your death.
Terrifying. Consuming.
He’s not patient like I imagined when he kisses me. He sweeps in and sucks the breath from my
lungs, invading my mouth, demanding more than I want to give him.
I should have known he’d do that.
I shouldn’t be kissing him.
This was a bad idea.
Panic creeps back in. As his tongue sweeps into my mouth and leaves my thoughts a windblown
mess, my chest seems to shrink. It gets harder and harder to breathe.
I stop kissing him and try to pull back, but I’m already pinned to the mattress beneath his weight.
“Wait,” I murmur against his mouth. He still kisses my lips like the taste he got was just a tease and he
intends to take more. “Please,” I say, turning my head away to create distance in the only way I can.
“We’ve only just begun,” he tells me.
“I know.” The panic gets heavier. I’m tapping too early. He won’t be satisfied. He won’t stop