'Did I say you could come?' His face is so close, she can smell herself on his breath, his dark beard wet from her.
'No, I'm so sorry, Tom. I didn't mean to-'
'I don't care about what you mean to, only what you do!' he growls at her. His hand is at her throat. She's not completely sure he isn't gonna squeeze and she hates that it makes her want him even more. Maybe even want him to do that.
'Tom, please, I'm really sorry.'
'Whatever,' he says, releasing her and pulling back.
'No! Don't go! I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise!'
He smirks at her, with no humour, just cold appreciation. Licks his lips, contemplates her with a raised eyebrow.
'Come back, please' she whispers, fully aware that he has a thing for her begging. She doesn't think he likes her very much, though, and that's just as well. God knows, she hates him.
'I'll be good, I promise. Please, Tom. Please.'
Tom strokes a hand down her calf.
'Turn around,' he commands and Jess immediately complies, rolling to her belly, cushioning her head on her arms, looking back at him. He tugs her hands free easily, stretches her arms above her head and pins her wrists down with one hand.
She has to close her eyes. It's so humiliating how he treats her and even more humiliating that she keeps coming back, begging him for it. Sometimes she thinks it's going to be just nice but then she crosses one of the countless lines that he's never bothered to explain to her and he's punishing her for the transgression. Like now. He had never said she wasn't allowed to come. In previous encounters, he'd teased her for how easy she was for him, taunted her with the number of times he could make her come in just one night. And now he suddenly doesn't like it. But she can do this. She can hold out, if that's what he wants.
He's not doing anything. At all. If she couldn't feel the fabric of his jeans against the tender skin of where he's kneeling between her spread thighs, she might consider that he's left her alone. He's not speaking. It takes all of Jess's control not to squirm. What she cannot control is her breathing, though. The longer he makes her wait, the faster her breaths, shaky and desperate. In an attempt to make it less obvious how turned on she is by him doing absolutely nothing, she closes her mouth, tries breathing through her nose but it ends up in an embarrassing, loud moan.
'Oh you dirty little whore,' he sneers, 'I'm not even looking at you and yet, I bet you're already soaking wet for me again, aren't you? Want me to check?'
'Please,' she moans, giving in to the urge to rut against the mattress after all.
'Hold still,' Tom says and grabs her thigh painfully, his other hand stroking down her back and-
'Ow! What the fuck?' Jess cries out when he suddenly slaps her arse, and not in a funny way. She wants to turn around, but he's pushing her down by the shoulders, kneeling above her.
'Shut. Up. And stay still, I said!'
She stays as still as she can, when he slaps her three more times. She stays still when he roughly parts her arse cheeks and starts licking. She stays still as long as she can when she feels his saliva pool in her crack and slide down towards her cunt and she knows she's so wet already but this feeling is something else entirely and she can't help herself any longer, she presses up against him with a loud, un-muffled moan. And then she waits. Holds her breath.
'Yes,' she says in a small voice, not daring to even open her eyes.
'Are you trying to make me mad? Is that what you want? Because it's working.'
'I'm sorry, Tom.'
'So you keep saying. Jess, I don't want to hurt you, you know that, no? We're just having a bit of fun here, isn't that right?'
She nods, the weight of his hand heavy at the nape of her neck. He's squeezing at the sides of her throat and she swallows.
'Alright, I have an idea,' Tom says, in a tone that makes it painfully obvious to Jess that this is exactly where he wanted her all along. He leans in to whisper into her ear. 'I'm gonna lick your cunt, you filthy little bitch. And if you manage not to come from my mouth, again, then I'll fuck you any way you want. But if you do … '
'Well, then I'll just fuck you any way I want, obviously.'
He lifts her head, pulling her up by the hair, to look at him.
'Say yes,' he commands, squeezing around her throat again.
'Yes,' she breathes, terrified and aroused and terrified of her arousal at the amusement in his voice. She knows this is never gonna end her way. He's gonna make her come and then he's gonna fuck her and she's afraid that she's not gonna like it and that she's gonna like it too much.
Dropping her head into the pillow, he slides down her body again. His hands are warm on her back, her ass, pulling and then his tongue is back, teasing at her hole with purpose now, circling the rim, thrusting in ever so slightly more. She is dripping into the sheets, begging him for attention where she really needs it. She's thinking of Kate. Beautiful, lovely, kind Kate. Kate, who said she loved Jess. Kate, who told her Tom doesn't touch her anymore, not after the accident. Kate, whose husband she's fucking.
'Stop,' she says weakly.
'We can't do this anymore,' she says.
But he does. And she lets him.
He's turning her around, his tongue travelling around her hips to lap at her cunt and she cries out at the first lick at her clit. He's devilishly good at this. And he knows it. Always makes her come like this.
He's two fingers deep in her, thrusting almost tenderly, rubbing her in all the right ways, his lips sealed around her clit, sucking and licking her, one hand splayed on her belly comfortingly. She's writhing and begging him for more. When he inserts a third finger, the pressure starts building and she knows he can feel her trembling. She doesn't look down, doesn't want to see his smug expression, knowing he's won.
She comes, crying his name, and he strokes her through it with his tongue, and his fingers inside her. He scoots up the bed while she's coming down from her climax, holds her almost affectionately, his hand rubbing small circles into her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. When he kisses her, it feels empty.
'On your knees,' he says once her breathing has evened out again, his eyes dark and dangerous. Not a request.
'I don't think we-' she starts, feeling hollow and regretful.
'On. Your. Knees. I'm not gonna say it again. I won. You agreed. Now do it.'
He's not smiling. He's waiting, standing beside the bed, his fingers on the zipper of his jeans, slowly undressing in front of her. He's never been self-conscious with her, fully aware of her attraction to him. Once he'd told her he'd seen her watching him, even before all this started. And he'd been right. He's a beautiful man and he knows it.
She gets up on her knees, facing away from him. There's the characteristic rip of the condom wrapper, then the click and squelch of a lube bottle even though she is still soaking wet. Then his hands on her hips, pulling her back suddenly so she loses her balance and lands on her face, arse up in the air, only held up by him. She tries to get her hands under her, to get up again but he slaps at her arm.
She bites back a comment, afraid he's gonna hit her again, turns her face to the left and waits.
He's rubbing his cock between her clenched thighs, moaning, and it gives her a strange sort of satisfaction to know he's not completely unaffected by her, either.
When he presses forward and guides his cock between her cheeks, she gasps in shock and tries to move away but he's got one arm around her hips, holding her in place, and one hand pushing down on her head.
'Oh no, you stay. Any way I want, remember?' She can practically hear the smirk, see his self-satisfied sneer, while he's panting the words at her.
'Tom, please,' she brings out, muffled by the sheets he's pressing her into.
'Yes, Jess. I'm gonna give you exactly what you need.'
'No Tom! Please, don't-'
He presses in, talking over her: 'Shit, you're tight. Christ, Jess, didn't expect a filthy slut like you to be so tight. Have you been waiting for me to fill you up?'
The pressure is too much. She gives up fighting it, and him, breathing out shakily to ease his way. It still hurts.
'That's it,' he gasps, 'there you are. Oh, you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? What a good little slut you are for me.'
He's draped all over her back now, groaning lowly into her ear. His breath is hot on the side of her face and she's squeezing her eyes shut so she doesn't have to see him. He's enjoying this. Enjoying her squirming underneath him, trying to get away, but there's nowhere to go. She's just giving him more friction with every movement.
'Oh yes, just like that. You like that, don't you? Pretending you don't like me? Pretending you don't want me?'
'I don't like you!' she spits out, saying nothing about want because despite her fear and the pain and humiliation, she feels arousal wash over her in trembling waves whenever he pushes roughly into her.
'Come on Jess, admit it,' he goads her. One of his hands is in her hair, pulling her head back and he's mouthing at her neck, softly now.
'Admit it,' he repeats.
'I don't like you.'
'Oh but you like this. I know it. I know how wet you get, just for me. Does he get you so wet? What do you think he'd say if I just …' he breaks off and scrapes his teeth over her throat.
'No, Tom! No, you can't, please!'
'Of course I can,' he says conversationally while fucking her at a brutal pace.
'I could do absolutely anything to you and you'd let me, wouldn't you? Needy thing, you are.'
Her head is dropped again and he's holding onto her hips, pulling her back against him, increasing the tempo with the vigour of his thrusts.
'Shall I make you see? Make you see just how much you need me?' he asks, stilling for a moment.
'No, no, please, Tom, no. Just stop it. I don't want-'
'You do!' He reaches around and roughly pulls apart her labia to run his fingers through her folds. She doesn't like it, she doesn't, but the friction is so good and she keens helplessly, bucking into him.
'See!' he says triumphantly, bringing one hand up to smear her essence around her mouth, making her nearly gag when he pushes three fingers between her lips suddenly. 'See how you need me. You can taste it, you can smell it. You dirty bitch.' He wipes his fingers at her cheek before pressing her face down again, all the while fucking her arse and now circling her clit with his other hand again.
'Tom, no, please,' she begs him, again and again, crying now. She knows she's close to coming again but she doesn't want it, not like this, doesn't want to give him that satisfaction.
'Please,' she cries when it hits her and he's pushing his fingers inside her, filling her up from both sides now, and she's convulsing around him, sobbing, begging him to stop but he doesn't, increases his tempo, pushes her limp body between his hand and his cock until finally he reaches his climax. He's panting harshly and pulls out immediately, leaving her raw and open, curling in on herself, sobbing uncontrollably.
'Pull yourself together,' he says coldly, turning from her to dispose the condom into the bin underneath his desk.
'Kate's gonna be home in twenty minutes. Your better be gone by then,' he tosses over his shoulder as he enters the bathroom.
Jess waits for another word, another touch, but then she hears the shower running. She wipes her face on the rumpled sheets and stands up. Her clothes are all over the place and she shakily gathers them and gets dressed. Then she sits on the edge of the bed, waiting. When Tom doesn't come back, she starts taking the sheets of the bed and throws them in the hamper by the door. She doesn't know where they keep their linens.
She's standing by the mirror, trying to fix the mess Tom made of her hair when he comes back into the room.
'What the fuck are you still doing here? Get out!'
Without even looking her in the eyes, he goes to the closet and takes out a new bed sheet. He doesn't say anything else while making up the bed.
Jess leaves without another word. She drives for 45 minutes. She doesn't know where she's going. She knows she going to come back.