Love lays embedded deeply within the practice of deception. We immerse ourselves quickly in new realities much like a curious journalism student getting a job at a BDSM club but starts to uncover things aren't quite as they appeared originally on th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
His breathless pants and desperate groans were music to my fucking ears.
After the torment and all the shit he's put me through hearing him remotely at my mercy, under a spell of my control is the biggest power trip I have ever experienced. The nickname is supposed to undermine me, make me feel as though I'm smaller than him and not as worthy in a position of authority yet speaking it after a desperate plea, one in a whined tone where he begs me to do as he pleases.
Pinned to the wall he towered over me, staring down with his blow-out pupils and an untamed curl dangling messily over his forehead. He looked the epitome of delirious, the sultry smirk that was constantly embedded on his face wiped away as they fought almost curling down.
The confidence I was so used to watching him saunter around the club, the expression worn constantly on his face was wiped into something new, something I didn't think I'd ever see expressed on his sharp chiselled features. Desperate to be completely at my mercy, wanting me to have that control over him and getting off over the hate I spewed in his direction had begun to turn me on too.
I can regret this later but right now teaching him a lesson for the shit he's been putting me through is all I can think about.
His face leans in closer, feeling the tip of his nose nudging at my upper lip in a bid for attention after staring down at me for so long. My eyelashes feather together, sinking into the wall against my will even though I want to stay strong to his reign. I capture his lips with mine before he can pull away, feeling the softness of his mouth against mine as he doesn't immediately kiss me back but instead remains lazily allowing me to do all the work.
It gives me the upper hand despite him towering over me, taking control of the kiss as my hands gravitate to his hips and tug him in closer by the loops of his trousers. Our hips press together, and the added height of my white platform boots makes it easier to feel the hardness trapped in his trousers pressing against my lower stomach just shy of where my body craves friction.
He groans at the feeling of relief, our kiss breaking so the sound can vibrate across my lips which are beginning to swell from the pressure of our kiss. The closeness of our bodies is intense, the darkened thoughts towards one another mixed with the ferocity of our previous argument is still pumping anger through my veins.
The intense arousal he felt from our fight made my head spin, how could someone get so incredibly turned on from insults being hurled their way; let alone this pathetic and desperate for someone they swear hatred upon?
"Are you really this desperate to get your dick wet, hm? Had to come crawling to me like some pathetic little mess, yeah?" My voice came out a low drawn-out whisper as I gazed up at him under my lashes with our lips grazing teasingly as he fought ravishing me in a deepened kiss.
He swallows down at the sound of my voice, I can tell he wants to kiss me in the hopes of shutting me up as his face flushes to a soft pink colour I had noticed previously in the night when he appeared with McKenzie. Although he presented this submissive side of him to me after I called him names I can tell he's struggling to not jump back into what I've been so used to seeing from him.
