[He'll see himself, and she wonders what he'll imagine. Is it of her fighting, or losing? Rosalind craves the fight itself, struggling and not knowing if she'll end up on top or going pliant. She's more willing for the latter the more she trusts someone; for him, she'll struggle until she's soundly beaten, because she doesn't trust him an inch.
But she wonders. Does he crave only to see her broken, or to break her himself?]
You'd hardly be the first.
[She glances over at him.]
Just don't imagine something dull, please. Taking me against the wall is the least of it.
no subject
[He'll see himself, and she wonders what he'll imagine. Is it of her fighting, or losing? Rosalind craves the fight itself, struggling and not knowing if she'll end up on top or going pliant. She's more willing for the latter the more she trusts someone; for him, she'll struggle until she's soundly beaten, because she doesn't trust him an inch.
But she wonders. Does he crave only to see her broken, or to break her himself?]
You'd hardly be the first.
[She glances over at him.]
Just don't imagine something dull, please. Taking me against the wall is the least of it.