Definitely Dangerous

content: rough sex, verbal humiliation, face slapping, impact play, breath play

Author's note: the character Derrick is inspired by the adult film actor Derrick Pierce, who has done some very

interesting

BDSM scenes.

-----

I am at a crowded noisy bar, again. Alone—again.

But still. What better way to ease my loneliness and heartbreak than yet another random hookup? That would make me feel better. Right?

I am already slightly buzzed when I see him. Tall. Muscular. Heavily tattooed. And a steely, intense blue gaze that makes my stomach flutter.

I'm staring, I realize with a start, so I look away, my face reddening. Maybe some women can get away with such a wanton stare, but I lack the sexual confidence to make it work. I take a deep breath and resolve to keep my cool.

But when I look up again, he is by my side, a hard, intense, unreadable expression on his face. Is it scorn? Contempt? Desire? I swallow. I don't want to find out.

"Don't you know it's not polite to stare, pet?" he says smoothly, gazing down at me with an amused expression in his eyes.

I immediately flush, my heart racing. I open my mouth to speak, but don't manage to get out a single word.

He leans over, his breath hot against my ear.

"That's quite a look you had on your face there, princess. Were you imagining my cock in your mouth?" he murmurs, his voice low and measured.

I pull back, shocked and offended. And yet, my skin is burning and there is an unmistakable dampness between my thighs. This is, quite possibly, the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.

But! The nerve of the man! I blink rapidly, unsure how to respond.

He smiles at me, the brute. It's the slow, sensual smile of a man who knows

exactly

what effect he has on women. He looks like a tiger stalking his prey and is now staring at me with unbridled lust.

My throat starts to tighten in panic... but my heart is pounding with excitement. I can't remember the last time I was so turned on, and he hasn't even touched me! This man is pure sex. And definitely,

definitely

, dangerous.

Still smiling—apparently, I am amusing to him—he lightly traces a finger down my throat. I feel my nipples harden.

"With lips like that, I might just let you," he says, his voice low and smooth. "I bet you really know how to use your tongue," he adds with a slow grin.

I let out a tiny gasp. Whatever I was imagining before, I am most certainly

now

picturing myself on my knees as I suck, lick, and thoroughly

worship

his hard cock. I'd make him groan in pleasure as he grabs a fistful of my hair. He'd tell me I am a good little slut as he skull-fucks me, not caring if I gag or choke on his thick cock.

I shake my head slightly, trying to rid my brain of these unwelcome thoughts. There is

no way

I am letting this arrogant asshole touch me again, let alone ram his hard cock down my throat.

Fuck. There I am, thinking about it again. I want to scream in frustration.

He draws back and smiles again. This time, the smile is friendly. Mostly.

"Where are my manners? I should introduce myself. I'm Derrick."

"I'm Lexi," I breathe and shake his hand.

He has a firm handshake. His hands are much larger than mine, I notice, and then I idly wonder what it would feel like to have his fingers inside of my wet, needy pussy.

I shake my head. I don't know why I'm allowing myself to imagine these things: this man is strong, powerful, and could probably snap my neck in two—if he wanted to. I nearly shudder at the thought.

Of course, I'm quite sure that he'd much rather fuck my brains out, in every possible position, until I am raw and sore and can hardly walk. He is probably a kinky motherfucker, too. Jesus.

"Lexi, it's nice to meet you," he says smoothly. "You have a beautiful smile," he adds with a wink.

Dammit. He's definitely imagining me on my knees now, my mouth wrapped around his hard cock, my tongue lightly flicking the head as he groans in appreciation. And now I am, too. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Let me buy you a drink," he says. Demands, really. I'm not sure I can say no. But I definitely don't want to.

"Sure," I say with an embarrassed smile. I'm flustered by his attention. He is a fluster-er. Which means he has all the power and, well, fuck if I am going to give that much power to a man ever again.

"Come with me to the bar. There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight. You might run away," he says with a devious grin.

Fuck. He has my number. And I've barely said four words to him. Motherfucker.

He orders me a sweet but strong cocktail. He doesn't even bother to ask me what I want. It's perfect, of course. Jackass.

We move over to a table, and he's still smiling at me. Assessing me with narrowed eyes. I nearly melt at the intensity of his gaze.

Okay, I totally melt.

"Tell me, Lexi, why are you alone at a bar on a Friday night? Don't tell me you can't find a date. Not with a beautiful face like that." He winks.

The fucker. He keeps smiling, winking, and makes everything sound dirty.

"There isn't anyone I want to go out with," I say. "And I'm not really looking for a date right now," I add, a hint of defiance in my voice.

"Ah, a meaningless hookup then. Tell me, how is that going for you?" he says, his voice languid and amused.

That same steely gaze. My face flushes, my nipples are almost uncomfortably hard, and my panties are probably completely soaked.

"Well, it's hard to find someone who fucks properly," I say boldly, trying to keep my voice even. "No one's really up to the task."

I'm challenging him. If I'm going to go home with him, he'd better be worth my while.

"And how do you need to be fucked?" he asks, his voice low and hoarse.

Deliberate word choice, I notice.

Need

, versus

want

. Maybe he will be a good fuck, after all. Maybe it's worth finding out.

He notices my hesitation. "I bet you're a kinky slut," he says, appraising me.

Wait... is that appreciation I sense?

"You tell me," I respond, challenging him some more. "I like to be held down and fucked hard. Tied up. Slapped. Choked. Breath play. Throat fucking."

I pause, staring him right in the eye. "Is that kinky?"

There. Maybe now he'll back down.

He laughs. "Damn, it sounds like you

really

need my thick, hard cock inside you," he says, this time with definite pleasure and appreciation. And a hungry look in his eyes. Oh, fuck, what did I just do?

"Do I?" I say with a smirk. And then, the words spill out breathlessly.

"What I

want

is to be controlled. Ordered around. Punished."

Shit. Did I really tell him all that? This is not information he should know.

"And maybe even..." I add, my voice trailing off, unable to meet his eyes.

"Hmm?" he says, lifting my chin to look at him.

"I wonder if I can guess," he muses. He looks at me and licks his lips.

Okay, now even my jeans are damp. This is getting ridiculous.

"I think you want me to Dom you," he says slowly, not taking his eyes off mine. "I think you want me to do all those filthy things to you, because you're a dirty little slut and you want to be punished. And fucked hard. Or I should say... fucked however hard I want. Or not. Whatever the case might be."

His voice is hard. Powerful. Commanding. It sends a shiver down my spine.

I swallow and bite my lip. There is no way I'm going to be able to refuse this man.

He stands up, pulls me close, and suddenly presses his lips to mine. His tongue invades my mouth forcefully. Confidently. I can barely stand.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls gently, his hand close to my scalp. He pulls harder as the kiss becomes more forceful, more intense. I nibble his lip and he growls in pleasure.

He uses his other hand to press his body against mine, and I feel the unmistakable bulge in his pants. He pushes his hard cock against me, making me moan in pleasure, then grabs my full ass and moves his lips to my neck, kissing me roughly. Insistently. Deliberately. As if he wants to devour me.

And I desperately want to be devoured by him.

He wraps an arm around me and presses his lips to my ear. "Come home with me so I can show you what a proper fuck feels like. Fair warning though—you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow."

"And that's a promise," he adds with a wink.

I gasp.

He nibbles at my earlobe as he continues, his voice a low growl. "I like you. I want you. I'm going to fuck you and leave bruises

all over

that beautiful, soft skin."

My legs feel like jelly and I'm glad he's holding me steady. Will fuck me up against a wall, I wonder, my legs wrapped tightly around him? He's certainly strong enough. Or will he throw me onto the bed, pushing me down, fucking me hard, the full weight of his body on top of me? I nearly gasp at the image.

"What do you say, beautiful?" he asks as he gently presses his lips to mine. The change in behavior is thrilling. He's

definitely

going to be an incredible fuck.

"Ok," I say breathlessly, unable to say more. I'm not sure how, but this man makes me unable to speak. I'm no longer a strong, intelligent woman who doesn't take shit from anyone. Instead, I've become a panting, drooling, obedient slut who wants nothing more than to please her Dom. Her incredibly strong, sensual, masculine—and dangerous—Dom.

God help me.

. . . . .

When we arrive at his apartment, he is the epitome of the gracious host. Gone is the kinky Dom stalking his prey, replaced by a charming, affable man. It's a little unsettling. But also, very hot. Somehow, I trust him, even though I barely know the man.

Though he's still just as arrogant as before. Of course he is, the bastard.

Well, I won't let it get to me, I decide. That would give him too much power, and God knows he has too much as it is.

"What do you want to drink?" he asks.

"Oh, now you ask?" I reply with a grin.

"This time you deserve it," he replies, his voice hard and gravelly. "Answer the question,

slut

."

Fuck. There's that look in his eyes again.

"Rum and coke," I respond, swallowing hard. How the hell is he doing this to me? And why am I letting him?

He quickly mixes the drink and brings it over to me, sitting close to me on the couch, our legs almost touching.

"Here you go, honey," and slowly presses the drink into my hand. His hand lingers on mine as he holds my gaze and gives me a slow, lustful smile.

My eyes flutter as I accept the glass. At least my hands aren't shaking, right? But it doesn't matter: he knows I'm going to do whatever he asks of me.

Correction: whatever he

demands

of me.

After I take a sip, he takes the glass and sets it down on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving mine. He cups my face in his hand and leans over to speak, his voice low and hoarse, his breath hot against my neck.

"Make no mistake, pet, even though I'm going to do whatever I want to you tonight, you're going to thoroughly enjoy it. I'm going to give you so many screaming orgasms that your voice will be hoarse tomorrow."

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name," he adds, a slow, cunning smile on his face. "Lexi..." he says in my ear, his voice a slow whisper.

Fuck. Just the way he says my name makes my pussy twitch in anticipation. He takes control so easily. Makes me obey him. Turns me into a wanton little slut who wants nothing more than to serve and please him.

He

has all the power now. There's no turning back.

Before I can catch my breath, his mouth is on mine, his kiss strong and firm. And oh, so delicious.

And then I'm moaning. I'm so turned on that I'm moaning

in his mouth

. If he had any doubts about how much he affects me, about how much power he has over me—well, they're certainly gone now.

I decide to stop fighting it. Who am I kidding anyway? From that very first look in the bar, he knew just how much power he had. And he loves it. The fucker.

Fortunately for me, he plans to use that power to fuck my brains out. And I'm going to let him, because I suspect he's just as kinky as I am. If not more.

I shudder.

With his mouth still on mine, he runs his hand through my hair and tugs gently. His other hand finds my breast, his thumb lightly stroking my rock-hard nipple.

Then, he pulls his lips from mine as I catch my breath. I glance down and softly gasp when I notice the unmistakable bulge in his pants. Is he just as turned on as I am?

His cock looks perfect—big and thick and hard. Fuck. I sigh in pleasure.

He stands and pulls me to him gently, holding my small hand in his. Then, he leads me to his bedroom, chuckling slightly as he sees how unsteady I am on my feet—which has nothing to do with the two drinks I've consumed. No, it's all because of him and his intense sexual power. He puts his hand on the small of my back, making me feel small and protected by his large frame.

His bedroom suits his personality perfectly. Dark velvet curtains, burgundy sheets, a masculine scent in the air.

He stands behind me, his lips pressed to my neck. He licks my neck lightly, then wraps one hand around my waist and pulls my body against his—roughly. He pushes his hard cock against my ass, making me gasp as I feel

just

how hard he already is.

With his other hand, he traces a line down my neck, slowly and deliberately, making me sigh and moan in pleasure and delight. And then... he places his hand firmly on my throat, with just enough pressure to make it clear that

he's

the one in charge. My eyes roll to the back of my head. He knows just how to make me melt in his arms.

He presses his lips to my ear. "Tell me, princess. Do you want me to dominate you? Do you want me to fuck you so hard you scream and squirt all over my big, hard cock?"

He impatiently turns me to face him and pulls my hair roughly, pushing me against the wall. "Answer me, slut. Do you want me to dominate you?" His voice is a low, lethal growl. He pulls my head back until my eyes met his.

I can't speak. I can only gasp and sputter.

He kisses me then, roughly, biting my lower lip as he does so, making me gasp in pain. "Answer me. Now. I'm not going to ask you again, slut."

His voice is rough and hard, with a tone I can't quite identify. Is it annoyance? Anger? Or... arousal?

I finally manage to say, "Yes, I do," my voice barely a squeak.

"Louder," he commands, grabbing my chin roughly. "Louder, slut!"

"Yes, yes, yes, please dominate me," I say, my voice pleading. Desperate.

He releases my chin and grins. "Good girl. There's hope for you yet."

He holds my body firmly against his, and I melt against him, letting him hold me tightly. He's so strong, so hard, so powerful, and so dominant. And those tattoos! I can't believe how much I want him, and I barely know him.

His mouth is by my ear again. "Let me tell you what's going to happen. I'm going to

destroy

your cunt. I'm going to fuck you until you're raw and rough and sore, and you're going to love every fucking minute of it."

He pauses for emphasis. "And then, I'm going to do it all over again."

"But first. What is your safe word, darling? I want to make sure you're well taken care of, you filthy little slut." He grins as he says the word "slut," which makes me melt against him even more.

He looks at me expectantly, the intensity of his gaze taking me by surprise. Maybe this is why I trust him—he takes his role as a Dom seriously. He knows the difference between a scene and real life and would never use kink as an excuse for abusive behavior. Assuming I read him correctly, that is. If not... well then, so it goes.

"Red," I reply. "Red to stop the scene, yellow to slow down."

"Perfect," he responds smoothly.

Then, suddenly, his demeanor changes, sending an immediate chill throughout my body.

"And now, you're

mine

," he growls, looking big and strong and lethal. Almost... terrifying.

Oh fuck. What have I gotten myself into?

"Let's get these clothes off you," he says, his voice low and thick with desire. He pulls off my shirt, unclasps my bra, and pulls off my jeans and underwear quickly and efficiently. I gasp in surprise. I hadn't expected to be stripped naked

quite

so quickly.

"Get on the bed, slut," he thunders, his face close to mine. I take a step back instinctively.

"Ok," I somehow manage to say. His face darkens.

"Let's get one thing straight, you filthy whore. From now on, you will address me as 'sir.' If you don't, you will be punished. If you disobey me, you will be punished. If you displease me, you will be punished."

Then he smiles, a mirthless, dangerous smile. "Oh, and you'll be punished,

if I just fucking want to

."

"Yes, sir," I respond, quickly laying on the bed. "Whatever you want, sir."

"Good girl," he replies with a wink and a grin. "You're catching on. Just a bit of training and you'll be the perfect fucktoy."

"Do you want that, slut?" He's taunting me again.

"Yes, I'd love that, sir," I say breathlessly.

"Perfect," he says, kissing me deeply.

I'm both stunned and turned on. First, he yells at me and threatens me, then he's... almost sweet. It's a terrifying, confusing combination.

Hot, yes. But, terrifying.

He pulls off his shirt and pants and is down to only his boxer briefs as he lays next to me on the bed. He kisses me abruptly, the force taking my breath away. Before I know it, he's on top of me, kissing me even more insistently.

"I was right, princess, you

do

know how to use your tongue," he murmurs softly.

His words barely register. I'm too distracted by the hard cock that's pressed against my soaked pussy, and I can't help but gasp and moan. This is quite possibly the hottest kiss of my life.

He pushes his cock against me with more and more pressure as he slowly rocks against me. He's

huge

. Oh. My. Fuck.

He kisses his way down my face, my throat, my collarbone... then, suddenly, he flicks his tongue over my nipple and bites down gently. And then, harder and harder.

"Oh fuck, yes," I moan.

He frowns and pulls away, growling, "I think you're forgetting something, slut. Don't make me remind you again."

And with that, he squeezes my breast, hard, painfully, and twists his hand slowly as he increases the pressure. I yelp.

"I'm sorry,

sir,"

I say, gasping in pain.

He slowly releases my throbbing breast and resumes sucking my nipple. Except, now my breast is so sensitive that I can hardly take it. I moan in pleasure... and in pain.

"I won't forget again, sir," I beg. "I promise."

At this, he laughs. He moves his mouth to my neck and lightly traces his tongue in a circle. He blows on my neck gently... then suddenly bites down.

I yelp again. Fuck. I need to come up with a sexier sound.

He alternates between gentle kisses, playful bites, and much, much harder ones. The mix of sensations makes me dizzy. I'll

definitely

have bruises tomorrow.

Oh well.

He smiles. "This won't all be punishment. Just when you're a naughty little brat."

His hand moves down my body until he reaches the dampness between my thighs.

He laughs again. "Damn, sweetheart. You're soaked, you filthy little girl," he growls.

He moves his fingers to my wet pussy and strokes lightly. I twitch and moan, desperately wanting him inside of me. Now. Immediately. And fucking me hard.

"Looks like you have a greedy little pussy, slut," he says with a chuckle. He's laughing at me, yet again, but I'm in too much bliss to care.

"Mmm," he growls appreciatively. "This pussy is mine now," he says, slapping it over and over, alternating between light and hard slaps. It's overwhelming and delightful, and I never want it to stop.

It's incredible.