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But it didn’t mean I didn’t also want to kick him in the nuts a little.

His finger entered my tight rim first. It was cold with lube, which he’d applied liberally and was now spreading over the walls of my asshole. I was already moaning, my heart already pounding like a stampede inside my chest. It felt so good, and I wanted more, yet was unsure at the same time.

It didn’t really matter what I wanted anyway, because Reeve would tell me like he told me everything.

Damn him for deciding I wanted this.

But then, he surprised me. He removed his finger then stretched his body lengthwise over mine. His mouth at my ear, he said, “Tell me to stop, Emily.”

I cursed silently. So much for him deciding.

“Tell me to stop,” he said again, “or you’re choosing this.”

Seriously, he was brilliant. I’d told him that he couldn’t trap me like this, and yet here he had trapped me in all sorts of ways. He was forcing me to tell him yes or no. Whichever answer I gave him, I would either be asking him to stop or asking him to fuck me in the ass. He was forcing me to set this limit. He was forcing me to either move on from Bridge or not.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated.

The trickiest part of it all was that even while he was telling me what to say, I knew what he really wanted me to choose. And while that would normally be what I automatically chose – to let him do this, to not stop him – our earlier conversation had put a different frame on anything I chose for him to do versus something I let him do. If I chose this, then it meant I trusted him. Then it meant I loved him.

Fucking trapped.

He was waiting for me to respond.

Well, I didn’t have to answer. “I’m not saying anything.”

“Then you’re choosing this.” He crawled back down my body. I heard the bottle open and shut again. Then it was his cock pressing at my rim, his crown alone feeling impossibly big against my hole. “You’re choosing this, Em. If you don’t stop me, this is your choice.”

It had been years, but I knew the drill. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in and out. Concentrated on relaxing. Readied myself to push out as he entered me.

And as I prepared, I asked myself what I really wanted. If it weren’t a trap, if I didn’t know what would make Reeve happy – what would I choose?

He pressed into me, slower than when he usually drove inside my pussy, but by no means gently. His crown hit the point of resistance, and, without pausing to let me adjust, he pushed past it.

I gasped from the pain, tears leaking down my cheeks.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Reeve taunted me. “I know it hurts. Tell me to stop.”

He thrust in farther. Pain seared through me, waking every nerve in my body. It hurt – so much – but it was nothing like the nightmare that Bridge had put me through. This hurt, but it hurt good. It hurt, and I knew what I’d choose.

It hurt, and I would still choose this.

“Tell me —”

“Don’t stop!” I cried.

As soon as I said it, as soon as I chose, he was different. He stilled, letting me get used to him as he lay over me.

“I won’t stop, Blue Eyes,” he said, stroking my cheek. “I’m not going to stop. And I’m not going to be considerate because that’s what I want, and I know that pleasing me makes you happy. But I’m also going to make sure you find pleasure in it too.”

More tears spilled, less from pain now and more from emotion. He scooted back to his knees and urged me up to all fours. By the time he had me in the position he wanted, I’d adjusted to him. Which was good, because, as he’d said, he wasn’t considerate. He dug his fingers into my hips and pulled back slowly, pulled back like the car of a roller coaster trekking to the summit. And then he was over the crest, plunging back in with speed, his hips thrusting with wild abandon.

I screamed through gritted teeth, balling my hands in the sheets below me as the pain tore through my ass, lighting the nerves on the opposite wall. It was agony, but as it stretched and yawned, it reshaped, transforming into overwhelming ecstasy. It grew like a ball of fire in my lower regions, the source no longer identifiable. It was almost impossible to tell what parts of me were even being touched. Because everything felt touched, every part of my sex organs shouting with the sensation of having been rubbed.

Then he reached around to press a finger against my clit, and I exploded, bucking underneath him as every single neuron in my body shot off like dynamite. It was too much. Too much, everywhere, all at once. Rainbow-colored stars flashed across my vision, goose bumps rippled over every inch of my skin, and cum poured from me like water from a fountain.

Reeve said words as he chased his own orgasm, dirty words, words of praise, curse words, words I didn’t understand or remember. I was still coming, or coming again, I wasn’t sure, when he stilled, grinding hard against my backside, still tender from being whipped in the barn.

He pulled out of me, and I collapsed on the bed, completely spent. Completely transformed.