She really had no idea what she was doing. Like some sort of switch had flicked in her mind and she really wasn't herself. She really needed to remember herself, because this was...this was the sort of thing you had to talk about, wasn't it? This was really fucking dangerous territory, but she didn't want to talk it, because what could she say? She didn't want to talk about it, she just wanted it to happen.
This really was fucking pitiful, like her whole fucking personality had just crumbled away in the face of him and the effect he had on her. But she couldn't fight it, she couldn't even find the desire to.
She didn't answer him, because there really wasn't anything to say, not that made sense, not that wouldn't ruin this whole thing. She was still confused about the effect this was having on her. True his passion, his aggression gad always turned her on, but it had been different, it had been aimed at other people and it had always been well thought out, intelligent. This really wasn't like that at all, yet here she was a completely wreck of a woman barely able to hold it together.
She really needed to start fighting back, he was good at being abusive, but well he needed some ammunition, surely? And she wanted to goad him, she wanted him to fucking snap.
The thing was he was too close for her to concentrate and now he was undressing her, and Jesus what was up with her? "So why do you even pretend?" she asked, through the pounding of blood in her ears, pressing back a little against him, just in case he hadn't worked out how into this she was, for better or worse. "Why do you let me get away with it?"