“This needs to end now, Fallon. Time to break your temper and make you mine for real. This time you’ll kneel.”
He began to drag her along by the grip he had on her hair and did not spare her any pain. She needed it and, he had no doubt, wanted it. He was going to give her exactly what she wanted from him; someone who would storm her castle and the walls she built to protect herself and bring her out by force. She would never surrender to her own needs. He would have to make her.
One hand in her hair, another pulling her arm, he dragged her to his study. All he could think about was taking her. He couldn’t help but love she was struggling and playing the game to full effect. He glanced down at her again, some semblance of sane thought flickering through his mind just to make sure he hadn’t misread the signals. But there it was in its full glory, that secret smile in her eyes and on her lips. Just as they reached the door of the study he felt her resistance lessen further confirming his suspicions.
He flung the door open and with a hard push propelled her forward into the room watching closely to make sure she didn’t stumble and injure herself. When she fought to right her balance after his shove he worried he’d gone too far. But when she continued moving forward until she reached his desk and turned to face him with a primal look, he relaxed. Her hands gripped underneath the wood frame of the desk as though to focus on controlling herself. She took his breath away. He wanted the dress off her and to be inside her pussy.
No words were spoken. None were warranted. Vidar locked the door and barred any escape for her. He tugged at his bow tie until it unravelled and hung loose around his neck. Undoing the top button of his shirt, he approached her, catching her swiftly as she ran to get behind him. Sweeping everything off his desk to the floor, he slammed her down onto it, holding her arms and hands down and above her. He wound his arm underneath her waist and lifted her further onto the desk until her head hung over the back of the desk where his leather chair was positioned. She struggled, forcing him to press his body down on her to hold her in place.
Vidar pulled the bow tie out from around his neck and tied her wrists together with it. Fallon gasped but, to his surprise, did not protest. The urge to kiss her lips roughly was potent. But she was to turn away from him when he lowered his mouth. Frustrated and angry he pulled her hair forcing her to turn her head back. She struggled but finally his lips made hard contact.
Pulling Fallon’s hair harder to force her head back and her mouth upwards, he probed his tongue hard, deep and rough inside her mouth. Her resistance remained, spurring him on until he felt her tongue stop the fight and respond unlike her body which continued to move restlessly underneath him. She curled her foot and aimed it at his ankle charging his temper once more and renewing the fight for dominance.
The sound that came from his mouth in response was primal, a forgotten cry that came from somewhere deep inside lost from eons ago. Vidar raised himself off her body and stretched to reach the letter opener still lying on the table near them and took hold of the front of the red dress. He wasted no time in using it to cut the silk bodice open and down to the crotch pulling the material away as he did so. He opened the dress enjoying the way her heavy naked breasts bounced free from it on top of her chest. Her body arched upwards towards him as he pulled the garment out from underneath her body and threw it to the floor. Snapping both sides of her skimpy matching red panties he freed her pussy from its prison.
He swept his hand down the side of her body and looked down at her.
“I own this,” he hissed. “I own you. You are mine and always will be. I am never letting you go, bitch.”
“Bastard,” she sneered back at him her eyes glistening with a mixture of contempt and urgent desire.
He grinned.
“We go together well. The bitch and the bastard.”
He lowered his mouth to one perfect pert teat pointing from the tip of a juicy mound and harshly nipped it with his teeth making her scream. She struggled underneath him as he sucked the nipple teasing it beneath his teeth, small aroused gasps and whimpers escaping her lips almost at odds with her fierce struggle. To calm and still her he raised his hand and slapped her opposite breast three times. There was no confusion or mistake in the nature of her reaction. The sound was loud and guttural echoing out around the room to bounce off the walls.
Someone started knocking on the door demanding entry to make sure they were both okay. Vidar ignored them burying his face in her chest once more, lifting her bottom to slap the side twice to calm her struggles. His action appeared to encourage her to move more and risk further discipline. Yet not once did she
