“Is it okay if sometimes I say no?” she asked one night.
“Of course. You can always say no,” I said, trying not to give her a funny look. Out of all the things that might upset me, not having sex wasn’t on the list.
“I mean, is it okay if I sometimes say no, but you don’t stop? Is it okay if I struggle, or will that make you nervous?”
I rolled back enough for me to focus on her eyes before brushing her hair from her face. She was smiling shyly and there was a hint of worry on her brow. I pulled her closer again, sliding my hand up her arm until I found her wrist. The second I closed my fingers around her a moan escaped her lips and her chest tightened. When I did the same to the other wrist she buried her face in my neck.
“So, like this?” I asked, holding her firmly in place. “But instead of opening your legs and begging me to fuck you, you might push me away?
You might whisper no in my ear as I kiss you anyway, and you might struggle when I reach down just like this?”
“Yes,” she moaned, closing her thighs around my hand. “And then you’ll hold me tighter, maybe your hand on my throat, as you whisper terrible things into my ear.”
“Like how hard I’m going to fuck you? And how there is nothing you can do about it?”
Her breath was static, and the second my hand touched her neck she arched her back up to meet me. I kissed her gently before closing my hand, and the room was silent and alert. Still looking into her eyes I tightened my grip, my knee moving between her legs as I leaned in closer.
“I think we can do that,” I said. “Say yes one more time.”
“Yes,” she moaned, kissing my mouth. “For the last time, yes.”