Page 63 of When Night Falls

"I will do whatever I want, Rivian. If you expect me to just bend over and-"

I regret my words before they even finish leaving my mouth.

Rivian yanks me over to his desk by my wrist, bending me over—using my words against me to put forth the action—and pulling my arms behind my back and securing them in the grip of one of his hands.

My stomach lays flat against the cold wood, he kicks my legs apart with his foot, and his other hand skates up my pebbled flesh on the back of my thigh, now even more exposed as my dress slides up due to my position.

"Rivian, no." I squirm under his searing hold, his hand pushing me deep into his desk.

I don't miss the arousal that builds between my legs. Having him so close does that to me, but this is not right.

"You can't seem to keep your little mouth shut, Cyn. You want me to give in to you? You want to be with me? I’ll give you exactly what you want."

His fingers reach the fabric of my cotton panties. I can't help the painful moan that releases from my twisted lips, confusion swirling in my head.

He yanks my underwear down and lifts my dress up past my ass.

"Not like this," I beg.

"But this is how I like you. Bendable and begging. So very fucking pretty, little sin." His deep tone drags down my body like a blade on fire, leaving my flesh heated in its wake. I can’t take it, the need is so unbearable yet I feel betrayed by his roughness.

"You don't have to do this. You'd just rather lie to yourself about what you really want because you think admitting it will make you seem weak." I try to talk him out of it, out of how close his fingers are to entering me. I can feel every centimeter he touches as he explores my pussy. I hate that he's doing this to me, but I love how it fucking feels; impermissible yet fulfilling.

"Tell me you hate me again." His voice shatters in waves of chills over my neck as he leans down to my ear. I never said I hated him in the first place so—

Wait, I never said that out loud which can only mean one thing.

"Say it," he demands as his finger hovers over the spot needing the most friction. If I don't say it, he'll leave me alone. Which is what I want, right? But if I say it, I'll get to feel him again. And I want that too.

"I hate you," I grit out in a pained admission, feeling inadequate in my own self-assurance for doing what he asked.

His middle finger swipes against my clit before inching back down to my entrance. Fuck, it feels so good.

"You are so fucking wet for me, little one." I buck at him, squirming in protest—I think—but the way his finger slides through me as I move only provides that much more satisfaction.

"You're not weak, Riv." I moan, trying to retract what I had said earlier that might have caused him to act this out. "You're strong." I don't know who I'm trying to convince at this point. Him? Myself? The fucking air?

He holds my wrists tightly in the grip of his hand while the other prods my entrance. I can feel slight pressure as he eases his finger in and I push back against him, another false attempt to get him off me but really, it's my reaction to the intense pleasure coursing through me.

"So fucking strong," I whisper in a lust-filled daze, not even sure what I'm saying at this point.

"Does this make you feel seen, Cyn?" His finger is only deep enough to cover his first knuckle, but it's in enough for me to feel myself clenching around him as he speaks. "Knowing that I like hearing you moan for me while I tease this pretty pussy with my finger. Does it give you power to know that I have no controlover the wreckage I plan to make of you." I feel pressure building in my core, everything threatening to break apart the longer he keeps talking to me. His voice is like a drug, giving me a high I never knew I could feel.

"You're the only one who gets away with defying me, Cyn. Do you like knowing that I can do this to you whenever I fucking want?"

He removes his finger and I miss the pressure, but he focuses on my clit, rubbing small circles over it until I can feel an orgasm build. Throbs wrack as I seek the end, hating that I love how it feels.

"Yes. I like it," I whimper.

"Say it again," he demands. I writhe under his grip; the desk is so uncomfortable under me in this position, but my vision blurs the closer I get to coming.

"I like it, Rivian. I like it so much. Please, don't stop." I'm begging him to bring me there, to send me into a euphoric frenzy as he works my clit closer.

But then, he stops.

"What? No, don't-" He removes his finger, I can feel the pain of my orgasm drifting away as he steps back, leaving me bare and edged.

"What are you doing?" He lets go of my hands and I frantically lift myself up, embarrassed as I fight to pull my thong back up and cover myself with my dress, looking at him in disgust.