moment, I think it might hamper his intentions too, but there’s a rip and the cold lashes me from the waist down. He just tore my fucking dress. I thrash harder. “You bastard!”
“Yes.” He drags off my panties, easily overpowering me, moving my body to his whim despite my determination not to make this easy for him. And then his hand is there, palming my pussy, claiming me as his own. “Your body always betrays you, baby girl. No matter how much you scream 'no,' you’re fighting yourself not to fuck my fingers right now.”
I hate that he’s right.
I love that he’s right.
I’m torn between spreading my legs for him and trying to kick him in the balls. I twist my hips, trying to dislodge him. It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t work.
Jafar covers me with his body, but he’s not lining up with where I need him. He presses me down to the cold ground, his hand between my legs, and pushes a single finger into me. “I’ll always give you what you need, baby girl. Even when you’re too stubborn to ask for it.”
“I don’t want this.” The lie is all part of the game, but my brain gets things all tangled up. I don’t want a vacation. I don’t want time to think, to feel the things weighing on me.
“Maybe not.” He fucks me slowly with that finger. Taunting me with my helplessness. Taunting me with my wanton desire. “But you need this.”
I’m still forming my denial when he moves. He flips me onto my stomach and rips the skirt of the dress the rest of the way off. I spare a thought to how pissed Tink will be when she finds out what happened to all her hard work, but then Jafar’s hauling me to my hands and knees and there’s no room for anything else.
He doesn’t give me time to brace, and when he shoves his cock deep, I nearly smash my face into the frozen grass. Only his rough hold on my shoulder, pinning me to his cock, saves me.
Then there’s no more space for words, for denial. There is only fucking, harsh and primal and rough enough that I’ll have bruises in the morning. I’ll relish them, just like I’ll relish the grass stains on my palms and knees.
Jafar fucks me like he wants to imprint himself on my very soul. Harsh, deep strokes, yanking me back onto his cock as he shoves forward. Each one drives a helpless sound from my throat. I’ve forgotten the game, forgotten that I’m supposed to be fighting this. I can only feel.
He shifts his grip, sliding his hand from my hip to my clit. The shock of cold from his fingers makes me gasp. “Now, my little slut.” He does something with his hips that change the angle, until he’s grinding against my G-stop as he circles my clit. “Scream my name when you come so everyone knows it’s my cock you crave.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp, even as I know I’ll do exactly that. He makes me feel so dirty and so protected, all at the same time. I love it. I love him.
And then there’s no more space for fighting. My body takes over and I’m coming. I dig my fingers into the cold earth and scream Jafar’s name as my orgasm rolls through me with the strength of a tidal wave. Through it all, he keeps fucking me, keeps drawing the waves higher and higher until my arms give out and it’s only his hold that keeps me off the ground.
I’m vaguely aware of Jafar lifting me into his arms and carrying me through the maze back to the courtyard with the gazebo. I expect him to take me back to the house, but he moves into the gazebo itself. Warmth licks my bare skin and I lift my head enough to see that there’s a space heater and a pile of blankets. “What’s this?”
“Shhh.” He lowers us to the floor and strips me out of the remains of my dress. Even with the space heater, it’s chilly, so I’m grateful when he wraps one of the blankets around my body and shifts me to straddle him.
I’m already reaching for the front of his pants and withdrawing his still-hard cock. Even with desire buzzing in my veins, I feel clear-headed for the first time in days. “Thank you.”
His hands settle on my hips as I sink onto his cock. “I’ll always give you