Need, not want.

I know. I'm a bad, bad girl and I have taken far too long to finish this. But, it's done. Hope it satisfies, S. I like to please. Too much. Grin.

“Fuck me.”

There is a pause while he turns, his face is too absent.

“Now?” he asks, yanking on his jacket and grabbing his bag for work.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘now’?” I demand, smacking his bag out of his hand; I can see his eyes flash across my insistent face. He is considering. He is doing it wrong, but I can use this to my advantage.

“Soon, my pet,” he soothes, reaching down to the strap and slinging it back over his shoulder, “As soon as I get home.”

I stomp my bare feet on the cold tile floor and scowl at him, “No. Now.”

I can see the frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, but I want him too much to stop now. He let me have this moment. He built it; he sabotaged himself. You can’t give this sort of power without serious repercussions. I can see all this in his thoughts, his fingers twitching across the shoulder strap and his keys clenched tight in his fist.

“There isn’t time,” he insists, chewing his lip as he reaches for the door. I slip around him before he can pull it open and block his exit. His body is close now and I can smell him, fresh, warm, too inviting, too appealing. I grab his bag and pull it out of his hand before he can object a second time.

I know he is weak; I haven’t gotten dressed yet, a silk envelope licking up around my breasts, my hair wet from my shower and saturating the thin robe. I unwrap my thigh and tuck my ankle behind his leg, pulling him closer. I hope that he can read in my eyes what he has ignored from my lips.

His breath is shorter; I can feel his chest quick and shallow against my breasts. I want him to slide his hands inside the silk and cover my damp skin, sweep his palms over my aching nipples, drag me back to the bedroom and lickme, touchme, poundme, fuckme until I am saved.

Jesus, Jesus. He won’t help me now. Only one thing will and I want it. I will happily pay any price to tastehim, suckhim, ridehim, soakhim. Soon I will be lost to whimpering pleas. I have to convince him while I can. I pull his hand between my thighs and press him against my lap; I can feel cold metal against my cunt. With a shiver, he drops his keys between my legs and presses forward, driving two fingers into my shamelessly slick pussy.

Breath comes fast, groaning down my throat and filling my lungs. I can’t open or close my mouth and I know that he is laughing at my pucker of surprise. I don’t care though so long as he keeps his hand on my pussy, his thumb lolling around my pouty clit. My legs are weak, but I manage to find his keys with my toes and kick them under the heavy oak bureau on my right. Subtle? No, but effective. He grunts, snatching his hand away. My whine is pathetic. I know that.

He presses me against the door; I can feel every inch of him through the sheer fabric and I can’t stop my hips from digging against his thigh. His kiss is slow, his tongue parts my lips and I can smell him. He tastes like strength and I suck it off his lips eagerly. I can feel his fingers knotting through my hair and the whimpers in my throat. He will not let me have this long, so I memorize the scent, the flavor, the twisting between my legs. He pulls back, but I am not surprised. With a casual flick, he tugs my long, wet hair back and speaks directly into my ear.

“I would’ve fucked you so deliciously when I got home. I would have given you what you wanted. I would have watched your breasts sway as you rode my lap, my cock buried deep in beautiful pussy. I would have spanked your ass until it glowed. I would have made you squeal; I would have made you moan.”

It is painfully hot above my pussy and I can feel my thighs damper, my nipples tight. I want to touch him, I want to swallow him into my greedy throat. His eyes are on mine, the surface cool and reserved but underneath churning, scorching dark. I flinch, though I don’t want to. I am losing ground too quickly. His voice is in my ear, in my head, is my thoughts, is my sentence.

“But now…you say to fuck you now? So I will. But I will remind you of your place. You will not get what you want, you will get what you need. I will watch your breasts bounce as I ride you, my cock buried deep in your ass. I will thrash you until you’re bruised and broken. I will make you scream; I will make you cry. I will fuck you now, my pet.”

My mouth is a plain, is a dry, dry match. My tongue scrapes across my lips and I can feel tears beginning in my eyes. I don’t want this. Jesus, Jesus. He won’t help me now. Only one thing will but I don’t want it. He lets go of my hair and pushes me forward, toward the bedroom. My footsteps are short, anxious, backtracking; I can feel his body, solid behind mine, there is nowhere to move but down the long corridor. I swallow hard into my fate.

“Please,” I turn, grabbing his jacket and pulling on the fabric, frantically. His eyes sparkle maliciously and I whine as his fingers crush my arm, heaving me bodily toward the bedroom.

“Of course, my pet,” he grins, nodding toward the dark room, “You asked for this, and you shall have it.”

I am terrified; I am intrigued. I am losing my robe to his insistent fingers….