I grin, feral. My thighs lock, stomach clenching, sweat breaking hot at my hairline. “Good girl.” I fuck her throat harder, my grip on her hair brutal, my eyes glued to her face. I watch for fear, for doubt, but all I see isblushed skin, tears, and the smallest moan vibrating against me. “That’s it, trouble. Moan for me. Let me hear it.”
Heat claws down my spine. I’m close, too close. Her lips are perfect, wrapped around me, but it’s not enough. I want her ruined under me, dripping with me. No rubber, no barrier, nothing between us. She’s clean, I trust her, and I want to feel every inch of her little cunt clench on me raw.
I yank her off, spit shining on her chin, a line of it trailing down her neck. I step back, not taking my eyes off her. She’s a beautiful mess, eyes wide, lips swollen, a flicker of surprise breaking through the haze.
I head to the desk, veins standing out on my forearms as I point to the rug. “Crawl.”
She gasps, chest rising fast, doubt flickering across her face. “We do this my way.” My eyes on her, my shoulders tight as a bowstring. “Crawl to the rug, trouble.”
Her eyes dart from me to the rug, lips parting like she might argue. Then she moves, slow, palms pressing to the floor. The dress strains at her waist, pulling over the curve of her breasts as the slit rides higher. Black lace flashes, and I swear I feel it pulse just by seeing it.
Her breath shakes by the time she reaches the rug. She sits back on her heels, knees pressed into the fibres, her hands trembling against her lap. She tilts her chin up, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with nerves and want.
“What now?” she whispers. Her voice is wrecked, shaky, dripping with honey. My cock is heavy, and my knuckles ache from clenching my fists so I don’t grab her and fuck her right here. Her hands press into her thighs like she is trying to keep them from shaking. The sight claws at me, makes my blood thunder.
I put my cock inside my boxers. I circle her slow, steps heavy on the floorboards. My suit jacket hangs open, sweat beading at the hollow of my throat.
“Look at you,” I rasp, the words dragging out of me. “On your knees, waiting. You don’t even know what you’ve asked for, trouble.” Her breath hitches, eyes darting to follow me, wide and unsure.
“You want my cock inside you?” I crouch just enough so the light from the window catches her flushed face, spit drying on her chin. “Then you take my rules.”
I straighten again, rolling my shoulders back as I keep moving around her.
“Rule one,” I growl, voice a warning and a promise. “When I tell you to look at me, you fucking look. No hiding, no shyness. I want your eyes on mine while I ruin you.” Her lips part, a soft sound slipping out, her thighs pressing tighter together.
“Rule two. You don’t tell me to stop unless you mean it. Otherwise every little moan, every little ‘no’, is mine to ignore. Understood?”
She nods too quickly, and I grab her chin hard, forcing her head up, holding her there until she whispers, “Yes.” I release her, stepping back.
“Rule three.” My voice drops lower, edging on control, chest heaving with the effort of restraint. “You come when I say. Not before. Not after. When I allow it.” Her throat works as she swallows, cheeks burning, eyes glassy.
I circle behind her, crouching close enough to let my breath coast over her ear. “I’ll bend you over this rug, lift your dress, and fuck you until your voice breaks. You’ll feel me for days, sweetheart. Every step, every time you sit, I’ll be there inside you.” She shivers, hands curling into fists on her lap.
“Say the rules back to me.” Her voice shakes, but she obeys, whispering each one. Every word she speaks makes my dick throb harder, my control slip further.
I stop in front of her, the scent of her shampoo is sweet, just like her. My chest rises slow, as I slide my jacket off. The fabric drops heavy to the floor, and her eyes track it, then snap back up. I roll my sleeves higher; black ink cuts across my skin with skulls, drops of blood, pieces of violence carvedinto my flesh. My hands flex, knuckles cracking, the tendons standing out like I’m seconds from breaking her open.
Her throat bobs. She swallows, small, nervous and I smirk, feral. “What’s wrong, trouble? Never seen a man’s sins written on his skin?” Her lips part, but no sound comes. “Every mark has a story. Every drop of blood, every skull.”
I crouch in front of her, arms on my knees, muscles tense, tattoos glaring in the dim light. Her breath catches. Her fingers twitch against the rug, like she doesn’t know where to put them. “Still want it?” My voice is a growl, deep enough to scrape her bones. I lean closer, so my shadow swallows her whole. “Still ready to let me inside that sweet little body and fuck you until you can’t walk?”
Her pupils are blown wide, her cheeks flushed.
She nods once, quick, but it’s not enough. “Use your words.” My hand fists her hair again, pulling her head back so she has to look at me. “Say it.”
“I… I want it.” Her voice is a whisper, shaking, but it’s there.
“Good girl.”
My blood boils at the sight of her trembling, knees digging into the rug, every inch of her screaming nerves and need.
I yank her up by the waist, her gasp warm against my chest. The rug scrapes under her knees as I drag her behind the desk. It is darker here, the light from the garden barely cutting the shadow, but if anyone enters, they won’t be able to see her. Her back hits the floor, dress pushed up around her waist, thighs trembling under my grip. Black lace stretches thin, already damp. I hook my fingers in and rip, teeth gritted as the fabric tears away.
“Fuck. You are ready for me.” My tone scrapes low as I spread her knees, folding her tight, pushing them up and trembling. Her breath hitches, chest rising too fast, eyes wide. I pull my cock out, hard and ready to dive into her. I line up between her legs, caging her small body under mine,and press forward. Her heat clings instantly, wet and sucking at the head of my cock. She arches, a sharp cry escaping.
“You’re tight.” My jaw clenches as I ease in. “So tight you’re fucking strangling me.” She whimpers, nails digging at my arms. Her stomach hollows under the pressure, every inch of me forcing her body to take it.
“You’re too big,” she gasps, voice wrecked, head thrashing side to side. “Flynn…” Sweat running down my spine. I lean closer, one hand on the desk that creaks under my weight.
