Pillow Talk

Love The Way You Lie part 2

"You wanted to fuck with me tonight? You wanted to piss me off? Be careful what you wish for, slut." The words left his mouth softly, barely above a whisper. As soft spoken as they were they had a core of iron resolve running through them. Elena knew then that their game was moving on. Her breathe hitched and she felt her stomach tightening into a knot. She'd asked for this, she'd pushed him because she'd wanted a reaction, she'd wanted something real, something that wasn't a complete lie and yet, as his lips caressed the side of her face, oppose to his heavy threat, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd gone too far, if she was going to be the one shred into pieces.

"You're so full of shit, Bürki. I'm not fucking afraid of your fake ass," she hissed through clenched teeth. She wanted to, no, needed to fight back. She couldn't let him get away with this, couldn't let him think he could go and humiliate her like that. Elena was desperate to have the upper hand and she was ready to fight dirty if needed. His lips pulled into a smirk as he gripped her wrists solidly and continued pushing back. She had to shuffle backwards in her heels to try to keep her balance. She realised when her back hit the cold brick wall that she wouldn't have to worry about that though. The shock of the cold surface forced her to arch her back automatically, instinctively attempting to get some distance. But her arms were locked against the brick, Roman pushed them solidly against it, ensuring she had no escape.

She was about to open her mouth to cuss at him but he was faster. Her gasp echoed as his free hand forcefully pressed flat against her pussy, pressure and no movement, just pure force against her clit and slit. She should seriously get into the habit of wearing panties but would it really make his life more difficult? Of course not, he'd just rip them off her as he always did. Roman Bürki the knickers destroyer, she'd have laughed if she wasn't so torn between wanting to kick him and beg for him to make her come.

He'd seen looks like that from her many times and they always drove him crazy, but along with his need to fuck the ever living shit out of her there was also a shard of ice running through him. She'd pushed for this and he knew it, she wanted something from him but he didn't know what.3 He pressed her wrists hard into the bricks, the rough surface scratching her skin as he pushed his fingers savagely into her. She bucked hard against his hand as he pressed as far as he could, the heat of her slipping around his touch, the folds of her cunt running along his fingertips like smooth velvet. She was panting softly as her eyes fluttered upwards into the back of her head with the discomfort of his harsh actions mixing with the sensation of his palm pressed to her clit while his fingertips stroked her roughly.

"Is this fake, too? Are you faking how fucking wet you are for me?" Finding a rhythm that he knew would drive her crazy but prevent her from getting too close to a release he pressed his lips to the hollow of her neck, to the side where he knew her skin was sensitive. His tongue snaked slowly between his lips, the very tip resting against her soft flesh. He could hear the intakes of breath that the touch created as he slowly ran his warm moist tongue up her neck to her ear.

"Maybe I'm not wet for you," she hissed, her sanity hanging on a threat. Elena was clinging into her anger like it was her last lifeline. She should stop him, should tell him that this wasn't going to solve anything this time. However, it was nearly impossible to even shape a single word as her mind clouded by his actions. She could feel the goosebumps coming alive on her skin, spreading over her body, followed by heat that started from her core. She couldn't stop herself from caving to his demanding touch.

"We both know that's a fucking lie," he snorted, the thought fueled his rage even more despite of the fact that he knew she was just trying to push him off balance. The movements of her hips against his hand, begging for more, begging for a faster touch, a firmer touch only made him harder. He could feel the press of his cock against his pants, and could already feel the slight dampness in his boxers as his body craved what would come next.