ice in resistance or surprise.
Oliver held her head back and continued to rub.

Jacky adjusted quickly. She pushed up against his hand. "Take them
off," she said. Oliver rolled sideways without letting go of her hair.
He pulled her panties down, and she bent her knees. He slid them over
her feet and then moved back on top of her. "Give it to me," she said.

Oliver entered her, slowly and deeply until she was pinned to the bed.
She made a small gurgling noise. He withdrew and then pushed into her
again. "Oliver?" He increased the pressure on her hair and went on
fucking her silently and slowly. "Oliver?" He didn't trust himself to
speak. He was afraid to speak. She would regain control, somehow.
"Ohh," she groaned. "Sweet?" The question in her voice was increasing,
changing to doubt. His intensity strengthened, feeding on her doubt.

He kept an impersonal rhythm, driving her into the bed with each
stroke, holding his grip on her hair. "Baby," she said. "Fuck me." She
began to writhe beneath him, meeting him, trying to draw him on. Oliver
refused to hurry. "Oliver?" She was pleading, now. Deeply in. Slowly
out.

Jacky began to strike him in the back. She made angry sounds. Her fists
drummed on his back. I--am--in--control, he said to himself. "Damn
you!" she exhaled. She stopped hitting him. "All right. All right." She
went limp.

Oliver continued without varying. She gave up. Her hands went to his
back and her body molded to his. Her breath began to whistle on each
exhale as he drove into her. She came with a sudden release and a
series of falling sighs. Her hands fell back on the bed.

Oliver released his grip on her hair and cradled her cheeks in both
hands. He kissed her for the first time. Holding her lips softly under
his, he began to move faster. Her hands went to his shoulder blades.
Her tongue touched lightly in and out of his mouth. In a minute, he was
done. She stroked his back.

"Oliver?"

He was off her and dressing.

"Oliver, please . . ." She sat up, uncertain. He saw the little girl
in the strong woman. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't trust
himself not to give in. She would control him forever. It wasn't her
fault; it was just the way she was. Arlen's words came to him.

"It's not your fault," Oliver said. "It's not anybody's fault. You are
wonderful, Jacky. Queen of crab cakes. The greatest fuck in the western
world. But--I've changed. It won't work." He shook his head. "I wish it
co