Victoria stayed silent, her eyes low, her thick, long eyelashes occasionally fluttered softly.
Being in love...it sounded quite promising.
"But..." She peeked sidelong at the quilt she was nervously gripping, "You can't kiss me like you just did, or pinch me like that, or hurt me..."
Hank Clegg couldn't help but smile with a touch of pity at her cautiousness, he asked her: "Why not?"
"Umm, because..." As Victoria's eyes lift to the ceiling, contemplating her response, "Whenever you kiss me, it's always without my consent, and you make me feel dizzy, and sometimes you pinch me, you use so much force that it hurts."
Hank Clegg was barely audible as he responded to her concerns.
"But... I want to be even more forceful..."
His hand, almost unconsciously, landed on her waist - he wished so badly to crush her into pieces and absorb her into his very being.
Now she was half-seated on the bed, the quilt still wrapped around her legs while her arms clung to her knees.
