wizard-of-the-pigeons

staggered back a step.
She was not a dainty woman. It was like being nudged by a cow. The edge of
the mattress. brushed his ankles. “Take me down, magic man,” she whispered
urgently, rubbing against him.
“Not right now.” Games. She was playing a romance game, with him as a
prop; he was playing a delaying game. She had fed him and stoned him and
wanted her due. But he needed to think carefully right now, not be a toy for
someone else’s passion. Couldn’t she see that? Was she so oblivious to his
moods?
“Don’t fight it, baby. Go with it. I’ll make you feel good.”
Her wandering hand groped through the robe. His pulse quickened in spite of
himself.
“No!” he growled, feeling the sudden high rush of anger.
Strength coursed through him and his frustrations focused on her. He gripped
her wrist tightly, putting a turn on it. The pain put a slight twist at the corner of
her smile.
“Do it, baby,” she whispered. “Hurt me a little and love me a lot. Show me
your claws, magic man. Make me do what you want. Make it wild and new for
me.”
“Stop it!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Stop it now!”
She was the one summoning the demons that could destroy him. The instant
he released her, she reached for him again, her mouth wide with laughter. He
seized her shoulders and shook her violently, her head snapping on her neck, her
long hair whipping with the motion. Self-disgust stopped him. He dropped her
onto the mattress. and turned aside from her. She shook the hair from her face
and peered up at him. He felt his own nails rake his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so damn sorry, and always sorry. But it’s
always there, right behind me, reaching for the controls. I don’t know what
brings it out. But you’re not safe with me. I want you to go. Now.”
Her face was flushed, her mouth wet. She took a gasping breath. “Rough
doesn’t have to be bad, baby.” She licked her mouth, “if you’re so sorry, prove
it.” Reaching up, she caught at his hand and dragged him down. His heart was
beating thunderously in his chest and his legs felt rubbery. He couldn’t get the air
down to the bottom of his lungs. He sagged onto the mattress beside her.
“Don’t tell me sorry,” she murmured against his chest. “Show me sorry.” He