to the door. He leans into my neck and hisses, “I hate liars.”
My eyes close tight, and I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t explain it. I can’t do this, no matter how much my body begs me for it. My lips find his neck, but instead of kissing him, I bite down. HARD. I sink my teeth deep into his flesh to hurt him. I don’t know why. I don’t want to fight him. But a sick part of me does.
“Fuck!” he yells out and pulls his upper body away while his hips stay pinned to mine, and his hand tightens on my wrists. His dick jumps from my attack. My eyes stare at his neck. That’s gonna leave a bruise. There’s no blood though. Good. I don’t want to really hurt him, just…
His hand that isn't holding my wrists touches his neck in disbelief. My breathing comes in sharp pants as his eyes widen. I expect him to hit me. To slap me across the face. My cheek would sting with a violent red mark. I want him to pin me down on the ground, my knees burning as they scrape against the carpet while I struggle beneath him. I want him to rip my pants down and tear my panties off. I want him to fuck me. To punish me and treat me like he owns my body. I scissor my thighs, searching for relief from the heated need of my fantasy.
But I won’t admit I want it, because it’s wrong.
I swallow thickly as his eyes darken and narrow. They travel along my body with dark desire as he contemplates what to do with me. I’m paralyzed with a deadly mixture of lust and fear. His hand tightens on my wrists while the other wraps around my throat. He squeezes just before the point of too much. It’s not a struggle to breathe, but I’m pinned to the door. I'm completely at his mercy. He holds my body still while he leans in. “You wanna fight me, doll?”
I press my lips into a hard line and struggle in his grasp. My body twists and writhes, but it’s no use. He huffs a humorless laugh. “All you had to do was tell me,” he says and leans in closer and bites down hard on my neck, making me scream out. The painful pinch of his bite intensifies the throbbing need burning in my core. He whispers in my ear, “Say red.”
I still with confusion. Red?
“Say red, and it all stops. Do you understand?” My eyes widen as I realize what he’s saying.
“Yes.” The word comes out easy in absolute submission. Hope and lust stir in my blood.
“Say it.” His words are hard and short.
“Red.” It whips from my mouth.
His hand loosens on my throat and he says, “Good girl, now fight me like you want to.” In a flash, he turns my body and pushes me hard against the door. His left hand keeps my wrists pinned while his other rips my pants down my thighs; the fabric burns across my skin as he forces them down. I think to scream, but I don’t.
I don’t want to scream. I don’t want anyone to know.
His thick fingers tear away the lace scrap covering my pussy, and his fingers dip into my heat as I whimper. “You’re such a fucking slut. So wet for me. Wet for a dirty, hard fuck.” I hear his zipper, and that’s when it hits me. Fuck! He’s not going to put on a condom. I start to open my mouth, but I don’t. I can’t ruin this. I buck my body against his, and his grasp on my wrists slips. I hear him stumble back, and I run for the living room.
My pants fall even farther down my legs and hinder my movements. I trip and scream out, but his corded arms wrap around my body and cushion my blow. He pins me down as I thrash under him. My fingers dig into the carpet. I try to move away, but I can’t. I can’t get out from under him. I can’t turn around.
His blunt fingernails dig into the flesh of my hips, tilting me up. And before I can move, before I can think of a way to fight him, he thrusts himself into me to the hilt.
“Fuck!” he yells out as I moan into the carpet.
I feel the sting of his massive size stretching my walls. I try