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I won’t let her get away that easily.
“Drop. The. Towel.” I enunciate each word. She’s so much shorter than me that I have to tilt my head down to look at her face. Her eyes refuse to meet mine, either out of defiance or fear, but I’m banking on the second one from the way her tight little body is trembling.
Her eyes flicker to the door and I think she’s about to make a run for it. Before she can make up her mind, I grab the towel and yank it out of her hand, tossing it behind me. I grin, amused with her behavior. Her eyes go impossibly wide at the loss of the towel and her arms flail as she makes a feeble attempt to cover herself up.
“Don’t hide,” I growl into her face, my fingers circling her wrists before I pin them above her head and against the wall. Her chest heaves up and down like she just ran a triathlon.
“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice nothing more than a caress against my cheek. My nostrils flare and I inhale her scent again, needing it to clear my head before I do something stupid, like kiss her.
I take both of her slim wrists into one hand and use the other to touch her. She flinches at first contact as if I would use my hands for anything but pleasure on her, though she doesn’t need to know that.
My fingers trail over her collarbone, her skin so smooth it feels like cashmere and for a moment I imagine things are different, that we’re just two normal college kids sharing an intimate moment, but we aren’t, not really. There isn’t anything intimate about us.
This is about fear, about power, about control and I’m going to show her that. She wiggles in my grasp, and my attention drops to her perky breasts, her light pink nipples are hard and begging to be in my mouth. I bite my bottom lip stifling a groan as my gaze sweeps farther down her body, my fingers ghosting against her sternum along the way.
There’s a slight tremble to her body, the muscles of her smooth tummy ripple beneath my fingers.
So soft, so fucking perfect. My cock is aching, the fucker wishing to be deep inside of her. Enemy. Enemy. She’s the fucking enemy. I remind myself over and over again as my gaze travels lower, falling onto the smooth flesh between her thighs.
Fuck. Her pussy is silky smooth, and completely bare of hair.
“Please…don’t.” Her voice meets my ears and I swallow down the arousal that’s building inside me. I could have her if I wanted her. I could take from her until there was nothing left to take, but I won’t. I can’t. I want to hurt her, but I don’t want to hurt her like that. Looking up at her I notice the shaking of her lips. Her fear is real, and it only makes my cock harder.
“I’d like nothing more than to run my hands all over your cunt, to dip my fingers inside and see if it’s as wet as I think it is…” I pause, leaning into her face, my thumb drawing tiny circles directly above her mound.
“But I don’t fuck liars, so…”
Her cheeks flush pink and her lips part. “I don’t care what you like, and I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on the planet, so I guess we agree on one thing.” She curls her lip before pulling her wrists from my grasp, using her hands to shove at my chest. Her weak attempt at moving me makes me grin, and she glares up at me with a fury that could almost rival my own…almost.
It takes her another second before she finally moves. Scurrying to the side as not to touch me, she heads to her dresser. I twist around and watch her bare ass jiggle lightly with each step. My dick is so hard, the fucker has created a sizeable tent in my shorts, giving away my want, my need. She rips open the first drawer, her hands shaking as she plucks a shirt from inside and quickly pulls it on, and over her head. Then she does the same with a pair of leggings, my eyes following the fabric up her legs.
“No underwear, huh?” I lift a thick brow. “Not that I’m complaining. It’ll be easier for me when I come for you in the middle of the night.”
Fuck, what’s wrong with me? Threatening her. Scaring her.
She’s driving me insane.
“Fuck you! Touch me again and I’ll cut your balls off,” she yells before dashing out the door.
What the hell is wrong with us? It’s like an intense game of tug of war. I should just leave her alone, but I can’t. I stand there for a long moment, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
