"Are you okay?" he grated.
"Uh huh," she replied as she nuzzled against his chest.
"Did I hurt you?" he demanded.
Isabelle frowned at the concern in his voice. She lifted her head to look at him. He studied her intently, his apprehension apparent in the pinched lines around his mouth and eyes.
"No, why would you think that?" she asked.
He continued to search her face intently, obviously not believing what she told him. "I know I hurt you last night."
"Only a little," she assured him.
"And today, it was too soon; I should have waited a day or two before taking you again."
She smiled down at him sweetly as she shook her head. "I would have taken you."
He laughed as he pulled her down for a long, lingering kiss. "Would you now?" he murmured against her lips.
"Yes, I would," she said with a nod and a smile.
"I wasn't too rough with you?"
"No," she assured him as her fingers curled into the hair on his chest. To his utter amazement, he felt himself growing hard again as she smiled down at him seductively.
"Next time, we'll go slow and really make love."
Her forehead furrowed as she stared at him in confusion. "I thought we already did."
He laughed as he shook his head. "No, there is so much more to learn, and I am going to enjoy teaching you all of it."
Her eyes darkened as she bit her bottom lip. "I see," she whispered.
Isabelle lowered her lashes before he could see the distress tearing through her. She’d managed to forget all her concerns about inadequacy in her happiness to see him, to have him, but they all came back to her now. His words made her realize how little she knew, and how very much he did know.
She wanted to crawl out of bed and run away from him, but she didn't want him to know how upset she was. It would help if he would at least say something to reassure her; tell her she hadn't been a disappointment, or worse, downright awful, but she would die before she ever asked him about it.
"Isabelle." She turned back to him, hopeful he’d somehow sensed her insecurity and would reassure her. "I told you that you wouldn't kick me out of your room."
Her mouth dropped. There was a teasing gleam in his eyes, but his words, coupled with her doubts, brought a flood of anger forth. She instantly rolled away and climbed out of bed.
"Hey, come back here!" he protested laughingly.
"No!" she retorted as she made her way to the bathroom.
"What is the matter with you?" he demanded.
She spun to face him, planting her hands on her hips as she glared at him. "Why can't you ever say something nice? Why do you always have to be such an arrogant ass?"
Stefan would be amused by her obvious ire, and especially her stance, if it weren't for the hurt blazing from her eyes. He didn't understand it. He was only teasing her, but it was apparent she’d taken it the wrong way.
"Isabelle—"
"You know what, get out! Get out now!"
Rage sizzled through him as he thrust the tangled sheet away and sat up. "I am not going anywhere!”
"Yes, you are. I want you to leave."
Usually, he wouldn't get so incensed, but after the torment of the past three days, hearing her telling him to get out wasn’t something he would tolerate. He knew she’d been as unhappy as him, but she was more than willing to toss him out of her life again, and the last thing he wanted was to lose her. He had no idea how he’d allowed her to get so much control over him when it was evident he had almost none over her, and it infuriated him.
"I don't care what you want!" he retorted. "I'm not going anywhere because you can't take a joke!"
Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "You're an insensitive, cruel, idiot! Get out, and don't come back!"
The tears nearly blinded her as she whirled around, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her. She was acting like an idiot, she knew that, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave again. She had just wanted him to reassure her, to ease all her doubts and worries.
Instead, he made her feel weaker than she’d already prove herself to be around him, and even more insecure. His words about teaching her how to make love, on top of his smug superiority about getting into her bed, were more than she could handle.
There was no way she could ever compete with the women of his past, and she didn't want to. All she wanted was for him to tell her she was special and she wasn't just another conquest. Not to remind her she was like every other woman who hadn't refused him. She slid onto the counter, drawing her legs up as she buried her head in her hands and tears slid down her face.
"Isabelle, come out of there," he ordered from the other side of the door.
"No."
Stefan forced himself to take a deep breath before he ripped the door off its hinges and dragged her out. He knew there was more behind her anger and distress than what he had said. The tears in her eyes proved that, but he couldn't think of what, and he wasn't in the mood to puzzle it out. He was done fighting with her, and he wasn't about to let her lead him around. It was beyond time she learned he was the one in charge. He grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. She quickly
