"You brought it," I comment, ignoring the file altogether. I can go over it later. What I find far more compelling is the woman sitting beside me, refusing to even look at me.
A quiet sigh slips through her lips, "You didn't leave me much choice."
I chuckle, reveling in her rigid posture and the craving I feel to destroy it. If she needs to believe she doesn't want to be here, I'll let her. I don't need her to accept that she wants this. Not yet. The struggle of her desire and her morals is so fucking delicious, I'll savor every moment until she breaks.
Clearing her throat, she moves to stand, "Alright. Well, I've done what you told me, so I should be?—"
"Sit down, Brigit."
Her eyes lock onto mine, both of us surprised by the cold command.
But she listens, settling back against the seat, staring at me like a frightened little rabbit trapped by a wolf.
"If you go now, you'll miss the main event," I taunt as I lean closer, my arm landing on the backrest behind her. "Just pretend I'm not here."
An incredulous laugh fills the space between us, "Not possible."
"I'm sure you're more than capable," I assure her, closing the small space between us until my thigh rests against her bare leg, the warmth of that touch sending sparks of heat into my cock.
Her throat works down another heavy swallow, and I track as every muscle moves in sync.
"What's the matter, Little Bunny? You seem nervous," I ask.
"Of course I'm nervous," she fiddles with the edge of a sheet of paper. "Every time I've seen you, you've been threatening me with a deadly weapon. That doesn't exactly breed trust."
"I don't know," I laugh. "I think it shows consistency."
Her eyes narrow, "I don't see a weapon on you now."
Without answering, I sink my fingers into my pocket, pulling out the same little switchblade I had in her kitchen last time. "Do youwantme to threaten you with it, Brigit? Believe me, I'd be more than happy to. I could hold it against your throat, right here," I drag my thumb across her thrumming pulse. "And make you behave.”
Her pupils dilate as she stares at the blade in my hand, biting her pouty lower lip. If I didn't know any better, I'd think shedoeswant me to make her obey with the lingering threat of consequences if she doesn't.
Someone over the loudspeakers announces Skyler, and cheers surround us, drawing me out of the fantasies of her fear and pleasure entwining into one. But even as the sound around us grows and the fight begins, I can't bring myself to do anything but stare at Brigit, to drown in the lights that flicker across her cheeks, a kaleidoscope of color on her beautiful features as she fights her hardest not to react to the warring terror and desire.
Even without watching the fight, I can tell the moment the first punch lands.
Brigit's jaw drops, and despite herself, she leans forward in her seat, caught up in the violence she swore she wasn't here to see.
I glance at the ring, watching another hard hit land on Skyler's chest.
Brigit's gasp of surprise and fingers gripping the edge of the table are the least obvious signs she's enjoying this more than she lets on.
Through the thin, brilliant blue fabric draped deviously low on her chest, her hard nipples scream for attention.
As much as she doesn't want to, she responds so beautifully to the brutality. My sweet little lawyer has a sadist streak, one she may not even be fully aware of.
Pressing my luck, I lean in, whispering in her ear and letting my warm breath brush against her jawbone, "You love this, don't you?"
A subtle shake of her head is all she can offer, realizing there's no point in denying it, but trying her best anyway.
"You're lying to me again, Brigit," I trail my nose down her jaw, and her whole body shivers.
My hand still wrapped around my blade on the table itches to touch her, to feel the warmth of her thigh pressed against my fingers.
As I drag it across the table, her eyes flick down for a moment before being drawn back to the barbaric show.
The second it dances across her leg, teasing her thigh, she sucks in a sharp inhale, the air whistling through her teeth from the force of her breath.
