Ultimatum
He watches her with a predatory patience,
this woman of velvet and steel.
She sits upon the crimson cushions of the window seat
as if she were marching to her doom.
Perhaps, one day, he will look back upon this day
and spare her a bit of pity for the position she is in.
But not now.
He will not suffer her indecision any longer.
His eyes possessively roam her svelte form,
noting how she grips her emerald dress in slender hands.
Hands that moments before,
absently pushed flaxen hair from her face.
Drawn to her slender neck.
His lip curls at its nakedness
She should be wearing his gift to her.
That is what started it all.
That is what has forced this ultimatum.
Then, the anger recedes,
allowing the predatory patience to return.
His heart thumps at her every movement.
Every parting of her soft sensual lips,
Every glance of her ice blue eyes,
His own stance speak volumes...
of power and arrogance.
of confidence and knowledge.
A man used to getting what he wants
and who only wants the best.
No matter the cost.
A difficult chase makes the victory that much sweeter.
A prize won too easily does not satisfy the needs within.
But there is a fine line between bending and breaking.
A broken toy is worthless.
This is what he craves, this challenge of Will.
Especially from one who seems so soft but
hides a Will as hard as diamond
and stubborn as a mule.
He sees the war within her,
even though her outward appearance
is one of pensive concentration
and careful control.
Finally, she looks up at him.
Though, her face is neutral,
her eyes tell him what he wants to know
and the rush of victory is intoxicating.
He has won.
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(C) 1989-2001 - Eden Blackthorn
