Ch. 6
Now the only remaining problem. How to go about letting her have him. Because the anxiety was still too much for him. The idea of sex didn't scare him, per se. He had of course dreamed about it, fantasized about it, when his cursed human body assumed control of his brain. Like late at night, in the dark, when he was feeling lonely and impulsive. But allowing another person to be that close to him, allowing her to be that close, to see him vulnerable… that was what scared him the most. He never let anyone get that close. Especially not a woman. Not this woman.
He shivered at the thought, and recoiled slightly as her hands slid over his shoulders, pushing his unbuttoned shirt the rest of the way down his arms. He had better figure something out, and fast. It was like he had built up so much momentum and then hit a brick wall. He wanted to have sex with her. Desperately. The circumstances were ripe. If it was going to happen, it was going to happen right here, right now. But he was experiencing a very problematic mental block. He couldn't bring himself to just let go of his anxiety. Instead of acting like an animal, which was essentially all sex was—an animal instinct, he was still acting like a detective. Like a scientist.
That's it! He would have to treat this experience as an experiment. Motivation, circumstance, equipment (no pun intended)—all things required for an effective experiment. Just maybe, if he allowed his mind to continue analyzing and piecing together those aspects of this experience that were causing him the greatest anxiety, maybe he would be able to let go.
Finally he felt liberated. He had figured it out, figured her out. His greatest debacle. If she… if they were just an experiment, then he wouldn't have to truly let her get close. He could participate in the experiment without ever allowing himself to be vulnerable to her. He could remain distanced, as he had always been. And after all was said and done, he would no longer be a captive to her power.
Irene was gently kissing his neck and running her fingers through his hair. Her fingernails grazed the back of his neck as she kissed just beneath his jawline. He began analyzing the situation. Controlled variable- himself. He could always control his own actions… well, that was not entirely true. The more time he spent around her, the less he found he could control himself. Whatever. Consider it the dependent variable and move on. Uncontrolled variable- her. Very, very uncontrollable.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt her teeth sink into his skin, just at the base of his neck, on the muscle of his shoulder. The feeling sent shockwaves through his body, and he let out an involuntary whimper. Damn. He had felt so in control a moment ago. And with one swift strike, she had broken him down again.
She leaned back after hearing him whimper, and grinned diabolically. "Seems I've found something you like," she said, tracing a fingernail gingerly over the crescent shaped bite mark on his neck. His skin was so tender from the bite that the feeling of her fingernail sent a violent shiver down his entire body. He clenched his fists, angry at himself. Get a grip.
Irene reached up and removed a single clip from her hair, allowing her long waves of dark amber to cascade over her shoulders. She reached down and grabbed both his wrists, forcing his hands to rest on her thighs. He hadn't voluntarily touched her yet, and he was painfully aware why. Her skin was so smooth, so warm. He almost found himself wanting to close his eyes… get lost on the feeling of her…
No. Stay in control. She may have been running the show, but that didn't mean he had to remain her puppet. He had to start acting like a scientist. Like a man.
He leaned forward and pulled his shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it to the floor. He planted a rough kiss on her lips, and his hands slid confidently up her thighs, around to her butt. He pulled her closer, so she was positioned firmly on his lap. He stared her right in the eyes as he did something very reckless. He reached up her back, quickly, before his nerves got the better of him, and unclipped her bra with one swift flick of his fingers. She smiled at his newfound confidence, and tilted her head in curiosity.
"I don't get you, Mr. Holmes," she said, and he smiled in return. He was just now realizing that he confused her in exactly the same ways she did him. He leaned forward, his face inches from hers.
"Good,"
