She'd been sarcastic and moody all day. Every little thing set her off. She could see The Look he gave her every time she snarled, she knew she was pushing her luck. But today? Today she didn’t care. She kept pushing, kept pulling the loose strings of the last rapidly fraying thread of patience he had. When he ordered her to strip, something in her snapped causing her to stomp her feet, yell, and curse. She kicked off her pants, her anger soaring as she was faced yet again with the reality that he didn’t allow her to wear underwear, something so tiny yet in the moment so irritating. As her anger boiled up, her face turning red, she tore her shirt off, and turned to throw it at him. Just before she let go, her fingers lingering on the cloth, her face was slammed against the wall, his hand ever so conveniently guiding her there.
He growled into her ear every rule she had broken. Every time she'd pressed him today. As her chest heaved, fear sinking in, her skin grew cold and his teeth sank into the back of her neck. He bit until she was sure that his teeth met inside her flesh and she froze. Every ounce of anger, every sarcastic muscle in her body paused as her mind emptied, and her soul split open running in wet rivulets between her legs. Just as her knees started to buckle his hands wrapped around her wrists, pinning her to the wall, holding her up.
He knew her inside and out and he knew which buttons to push, which switch the throw to bring her to her knees and set her free. As his hands tightened on her arms, she knew she would be bruised and a smile silently curled her lips.
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