Before she could gather herself for another protest, I closed the distance and kissed her—possessive and brutal, claiming every part of her that was still willing to resist. Her lips tasted like rebellion mixed with something sweeter—a fleeting moment of surrender that drove me wild.
But just as quickly as it began, she broke the kiss. The sound of our breaths mingled in the air—a sharp gasp followed by the sting of flesh against flesh as she slapped me hard across the cheek.
I smirked at her audacity, wiping away the shock like it was nothing more than an annoyance. She thought that would deter me? Not a chance.
“You think you can hurt me with that?” I taunted softly, my eyes darkening with amusement. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”
I watched her, my gaze lingering on the defiant set of her jaw and the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. She was beautiful in her fury, and I couldn't help but admire the fire that burned within her.
But it was time to remind her who was in control.
Slowly, I reached out and traced a finger along the collar of her dress, feeling the silk beneath my touch. She flinched at my touch, but I didn't stop. Instead, I continued to trace a path down the front of her dress, watching as her eyes followed my movements.
Without a word, I began to unfasten the buttons, one by one. She didn't protest, but I could feel the tension radiating off of her. I took my time, savoring each moment as I slowly revealed more and more of her skin.
When the last button was undone, I gently pushed the dress off of her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. She stood before me in nothing but her underwear, her body trembling with a mix of anger and desire.
I stepped closer, my breath hot against her ear as I whispered, "You think you can defy me, little Persephone?"
She didn't answer, but I could see the fire in her eyes. I smiled, enjoying the challenge she presented.
I reached out and ran my fingers along the edge of her panties, feeling the heat radiating off of her. She gasped at my touch, her body betraying her even as her mind fought against me.
But I didn't take her. Not yet. Instead, I continued to tease her mercilessly, my fingers tracing patterns along her skin and my lips brushing against her neck. She moaned softly, her body responding to my touch even as her mind screamed for her to push me away.
I could feel her resolve weakening, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she gave in to me completely. But for now, I was content to simply enjoy the game, to revel in the power I held over her.
And so I continued to tease her, my touch growing bolder and more insistent as I pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She writhed beneath me, her body begging for release even as her mind fought against it.
But I was relentless, my fingers and lips working in tandem to drive her wild.
The game was far from over.
I leaned in and kissed her deeply, my tongue exploring her mouth as my hands roamed over her body. She moaned into the kiss, her body responding to my touch even as her mind struggled to make sense of what was happening.
But there was no sense to be made. Not in this moment. Not when I held all the power.
I stripped her out of her underwear, leaving her bare and exposed before me. She trembled under my gaze, her body betraying the desire she tried so hard to hide. I touched her, teased her, denied her the release she so desperately craved.
"You don't get to pretend you're untouched after letting another man look at you like that," I whispered in her ear, my breath hot against her skin. She shuddered at my words, her body responding to my touch even as her mind fought against it.
I traced my fingers along her collarbone, feeling the way her pulse quickened beneath my touch. She was mine, and I would never let her forget it. "You're mine," I growled, my voice low and possessive. "Even when you hate me. Especially then."
She trembled under my touch, not because she was weak, but because I knew exactly where to push. I built her up, brought her to the edge, then left her aching and wanting more. She hated me for it, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to my touch.
"Say it," I demanded, my fingers tracing a path down her spine. "Say you're mine."
She hesitated, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she struggled to find the words. But I was relentless, my touch growing more insistent as I pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
Finally, she gave in, her voice barely above a whisper as she choked out the words. "I'm yours."
I smiled, satisfied with her submission. But I wasn't done with her yet. I continued to touch her, to tease her, to deny her the release she so desperately craved. I wanted her to beg for it, to plead with me to give her what she needed.
I pulled away, savoring the flush on her cheeks and the fire still flickering in her eyes. She looked so beautifully undone, hair tousled and lips swollen from our kiss, yet I left her there, teetering on the edge of desperation.
“Next time you bring someone into our house,” I whispered, my voice low and dangerous, “make sure he’s strong enough to keep you.”
With that, I turned on my heel and walked away. Each step echoed against the silence of the room as I left her half-dressed and breathless behind me.
