The door slammed shut behind her, the echo reverberating through the dimly lit apartment. Susan's heart raced as Marcus's grip on her arm tightened, pulling her further into the room. Her breath hitched, her body trembling with a mix of fear and something she couldn't quite name—something she refused to name.
"You rang my doorbell," Marcus growled, his voice low and predatory. His eyes darkened as they trailed over her body, lingering on the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts beneath her blouse. "What did you want to say, Susan?"
She opened her mouth to protest, to demand he let her go, but the words caught in her throat as he yanked her wrists behind her back. The rough bite of rope against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, and she gasped as he tied her hands tightly, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.
"Let me go!" she managed to choke out, though her voice lacked conviction. Her body betrayed her; her nipples hardened under his gaze, heat pooling between her legs. She hated him—hated how he made her feel. And yet, she couldn't deny the thrill that surged through her as he stepped closer, his breath hot against her neck.
"You hate it, don't you?" he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. "Hate how I make you feel." His hands slid down her sides, fingers digging into her waist as he pulled her against him. She could feel the hardness of his body, the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing into her.
Susan squirmed, trying to free herself, but his grip was unyielding. "Stop it," she whispered, though her voice trembled. "This is wrong."
Marcus chuckled darkly, his hands moving lower to grasp her ass roughly. "Wrong? Or is it just what you've been craving?" He leaned in, his lips grazing her neck as he whispered, "Admit it, Susan. You've thought about this—about me."
Her breath came in shallow gasps as his hands roamed over her body, skimming the hem of her blouse before slipping underneath. His calloused palms brushed against her sensitive skin, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. His touch was electric, igniting a fire deep within her that she couldn't extinguish.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his hands cupping her breasts through her bra. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a sharp gasp from her before he tore the fabric aside, freeing her full, heavy breasts to his hungry gaze. His thumbs swiped over her nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks.
Susan's knees buckled, but Marcus held her upright, his body pressing against hers as he continued to play with her breasts. "You like that, don't you?" he taunted, his breath hot against her skin. "I can feel how wet you are."
Her face burned with shame, but she couldn't deny the truth. Every touch, every word, only fueled the desire burning inside her. She hated him—hated how easily he could unravel her—but she wanted him. Needed him.Marcus's smirk deepened as he released her wrists, only to push her down onto the couch. Before she could react, he straddled her, pinning her beneath him. His hands moved swiftly, sliding under her shirt and finding the sensitive spots along her sides. Susan let out an involuntary giggle, immediately biting her lip to stifle it. But Marcus was relentless.
"So, you're ticklish," he purred, his fingers dancing over her ribs, her stomach, and even the arches of her feet as he stripped off her shoes. Her laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, her body writhing beneath him as she tried to escape his torment. "Beg me to stop," he commanded, his voice dark and teasing.
"N-never!" Susan gasped between fits of laughter, her face flushed with both embarrassment and the heat of their shared tension. But Marcus only intensified his assault, his fingers moving faster, more deliberately, until she was gasping for air, tears of laughter streaming down her face.
Two hours passed in a blur of breathless giggles and failed attempts to break free. By the end, Susan was exhausted, her body limp and trembling, her resolve crumbling. Marcus finally stopped, leaning over her with a satisfied grin. "Still so proud?" he taunted, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Susan glared up at him, though her defiance was now laced with something else—something far more vulnerable. She hated how easily he could undo her, how he could make her feel both helpless and alive in the same breath. But she said nothing, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath.
Marcus's smirk faltered for just a moment, replaced by something darker, hungrier. "Now," he said, his voice low and commanding, "let's see how much more you can take."
Marcus smirked, sensing her internal struggle. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that left her breathless. His tongue plunged into her mouth, claiming her with a dominance that made her head spin. She moaned involuntarily, her body arching into his as he deepened the kiss.Marcus smirked, sensing her internal struggle, but instead of leaning in for a kiss, his hands darted back to her sides, resuming their relentless tickling. Susan's laughter erupted anew, her body jerking beneath him as she tried to squirm away.
"Stop! Marcus, please!" she gasped between peals of uncontrollable giggles, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desperation.
But Marcus didn't stop. His fingers danced over her ribs, her waist, even the sensitive spots along her inner thighs, his touch light yet maddening. "Beg me properly," he teased, his voice dark with amusement. "Tell me how much you hate this."
"I—I can't!" Susan choked out, tears streaming down her face as her body convulsed with laughter. Her pride was crumbling, her willpower slipping with every torturous stroke of his fingers. "Please, Marcus, I can't take it anymore!"
He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. "Say it again," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "Beg me to stop."
Susan's resolve shattered. "Please!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Stop! I'm begging you—please, just stop!" Her body was limp, trembling, utterly at his mercy.
Finally, Marcus relented, his hands stilling but remaining on her hips. He gazed down at her with a mixture of triumph and something darker, more primal. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."
When he finally pulled away, Susan was trembling, her resolve shattered. Marcus's eyes gleamed with triumph as he untied her hands only to push her to her knees in front of him. "Now," he said, his voice thick with desire, "show me how much you need me."
Her hands shook as she reached for his belt, unfastening it with trembling fingers. She hesitated, but Marcus's hand fisted in her hair, forcing her to look up at him. "Don't make me repeat myself," he warned, his voice dangerously low.
With a shaky breath, Susan obeyed, freeing his cock from his pants. Her eyes widened at the size of him, thick and hard and leaking precum. She licked her lips nervously before taking him into her mouth, savoring the salty tang of him as she began to suck slowly at first then with increasing hunger.
Marcus groaned above here letting himself enjoy every second of this victory over such an otherwise proud woman who now kneeled before him servicing him like any other woman would do if she knew what was good for her