Her composure had seemed infallible, the first time they’d met. She hadn’t been

Her composure had seemed infallible, the first time they’d met. She hadn’t been coy about expressing her interest in him, but even that was a play, trying to get it out of the way so that she wasn’t being pursued, so that she didn’t seem like the one on the back foot the whole time. She was active rather than reactive, and he’d liked that.  But even when she was following his rules, and his orders, she’d managed to maintain a veneer of control that seemed contrary to what he was after. Her body was given to him freely enough, but she kept most of her mind behind police tape, burly officers barring him from entry. But he was tenacious, and he wasn’t going to let that stand. Not with her. Not when she was how she was.  It started off like any other time they’d fucked. He tied her hands to the headboard, kept her legs spread as he pushed himself slowly into her. He let her get comfortable, or as comfortable as fucking ever can be, and then he started in earnest, hips plunging against arse, his teeth against her neck. She moaned, gasped and whimpered, making all the right sounds.  He bit a little harder. Her moans, in turn, grew in volume and frequency, and when he rumbled something about what an adorable fuckpuppet she was being, and he saw the blush come to her cheeks. Just the right shade of red. It felt engineered.  He reached back, pressing his fingers hard against her clit, and started to run hard circles around it. She almost jumped, her whole body tensing as she struggled to keep a handle on the dual stimulation, the thickness of him lancing into her as his fingers played a merry tune against that most sensitive of spots.  Her shoulders bunched, and he grinned. That was her tell, and he gave her ten seconds before she started asking, pleading with him for permission. It was breathless, when it came, but it was also carefully worded, exactly what he wanted to hear.  “Please Sir! Please can I… coome!?” The urgency didn’t disguise the composure, and as he heard those words, he pulled back, sliding clear of her before he pressed his lips close against her ear. “No.” With all the finality of a funeral, he gave that clit one last circle before he moved away, leaving her pleading and mewling, disbelief bereft on her face.  “Please! What!” Nonsensical questions fired from her lips like accusations, but she couldn’t quite fathom what he’d just said. He chuckled, one hand between his legs, idly fondling his hard length.  “I said no. You can’t come.” She cried out, seething against the bonds on the bed, trying to get clear of them. She was too frustrated for words, instead just a series of gasps and groans, grinding against the bed, trying to use the friction to get her off.  He grabbed her hips, keeping her still. “No.” He growled the word out, the kind of warning you don’t test. He’d leaned forward again, the slight roughness of his stubble grazing her earlobe. “I’ve got you now, you adorable, fuckable, haughty little slut. You’re mine.” She keened like a wounded animal, the realisation slipping over her like a shroud.  “Pleeeease.” It was a whine, but it was a dejected, resigned one. She knew he wasn’t going to say yes.  “We’ll see.” He muttered, before his hand found his way between her legs, gently starting to stroke those swollen lips. -- source link

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