'Jesus Christ,' I muttered under my breath, slamming the kitchen cupboard shut.
'Everything OK, Baby?' He came into the kitchen behind me, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms across his chest. He looked incredibly handsome in his dark grey suit trousers and navy button-down shirt and he hadn't taken his black work shoes off yet, but despite how fucking mouthwateringly gorgeous he looked right now I still felt the daggers in my eyes as I glared at him.
'It would just be nice if things were put back where they were supposed to be so I didn't have to risk burning the dinner while I search the whole bloody kitchen for salt,' I spat, hands on hips. I hadn't started cooking yet but this was beside the point.
I maintained eye contact, chin raised defiantly. He raised an eyebrow at my tone and posture, and an alarm bell started to ring in the back of my head. Usually this would have been enough to send me straight to my knees, prostrating myself in front of him and begging forgiveness into the floor. But for some reason, my anger was so thick that it muted the alarm so that it was barely audible.
'It's in the same cupboard Baby, even if it's not in the exact same place as usual it's still accessible,' he replied calmly. Too calmly. Another warning sign that I completely disregarded in my stressed state. I had no idea why but it just made me all the more intent on causing an argument. His refusal to bite back was infuriating.
'Well I guess everything is just my fucking problem today isn't it,' I growled, turning back to the cupboard. Turning my back on him.
'What did you say to me?' His voice suddenly had a steely edge to it. If I had been paying attention and not in my own head, I would have known I had gone too far before what happened next. Instead I bristled and spun back on my heel, opening my mouth to retaliate. In my fury I hadn't heard him move across the kitchen from the doorway, hadn't been as aware of his presence behind me as I usually would have been.
I had been prepared to spit further insults, but instead I found his hand wrapping tightly around my throat, slamming me back against the kitchen counter. My hands grabbed the edge of the counter behind me to steady myself. His body pressed against mine hard and his teeth were bared against my neck under where his thumb was pressing against my pulse. Still struggling against the red mist in my mind, I began to wriggle against him, trying to free myself. He growled ferally against my skin, causing goosebumps to run up and down my arms at the noise. I became still, taking a short shallow gasp against his grip.
I heard him take a steadying breath, and this reminded me of the position I was in. All of a sudden I realised how close he had come to losing his temper with me. He had only truly lost his temper once during our relationship due to a situation at his work. Although he had not acted on his temper, he had become withdrawn, silent and glowering for days afterwards. The worst part of it was seeing my wonderful Master - who craved complete control as deeply as I was addicted to giving it up entirely - lose grip of that carefully crafted composure. I knew that even if he ever did fully lose his temper with me that he would never hurt me in anger, but I knew that at times I pushed him dangerously close to the edge.
I also knew that I would be paying for my behaviour tonight for a long, long time to come. Usually this thought thrilled me, turned me on, but in my current position, trapped between my Master's body and the kitchen counter with his hand still fastened around my throat and my airway being heavily restricted, waiting for him to regain composure, I could only remind myself that this was my doing.
In the time it took me to process what had happened, I also realised the other reason he had reacted in this way. I was being downright bratty, and my Master had taught me to recognise this as a sign that something was wrong, that maybe something was overwhelming me to the point where I purposely provoked him. By taking action, he was immediately taking full control. So while it could have been a scary situation under other circumstances, instead I immediately felt relief coursing through me as I released control.
I felt the shaking in my Master's body subside. He had been almost crouched over me - this wasn't hard as his 6 foot frame usually meant that he had to lean over all of my 5 foot 4 inches to whisper orders in my ear or run his tongue up my neck while he pinned my hands above my head - but now he was starting to straighten up, and I could sense that his own control was slowly returning. His breathing had been rather sharp and laboured, but now it was becoming slow and even again. He leaned his torso away from me, eyes closed as he breathed out for a long time. The grip around my throat didn't loosen and he kept his pelvis pressed hard against mine. His eyes opened slowly, and he looked down his nose at me. I could see a flicker of the anger still remained in his eyes, but as he ran his free hand through his floppy copper hair I realised that it wasn't me that he was angry with. He was beating himself up for being so close to losing it.
The grip on my airway finally loosened fractionally, and I took as big of a breath as I was able to. It set my head swimming as my oxygen levels suddenly spiked. My Master, now fully in control of himself, leaned into me again, placing his hand on the counter behind me as he brought his face down next to mine.
'Now, Kitten.' His voice was a purr as he muttered against my ear, and I started to become aware that the feeling of relief was slowly giving way to the all too familiar feeling of arousal. 'I don't want any apologies right now, I just want you to be truthful. So tell me, brat,' I heard the smirk in his voice as his teeth brushed my ear and my knees started to weaken. 'What exactly was it that you said to me?'
'Sir, I'm sor-' My breath caught in my throat as he ground his hips against mine harshly. His free hand snaked up my back and wound into my long curling brown hair, pulling it into his fist in a tight knot and tugging just enough to jerk my head back. The pressure on my throat remained unchanged and I heard him tutting softly.
'You're not listening, Kitten. Listen to what I'm asking you to tell me and not what you think I want to hear. As I said, I don't want your apologies right now - there will be plenty of time for that later.' His tongue slid up the outside of my ear and I shuddered against him, my own hips bucking slightly as I felt his cock hardening with his growing desire. He chuckled darkly, releasing my hair from his fist and putting his hand back on the counter behind me so he could lean even harder into me. His breath tickled my neck as he said, 'What I asked you was, what exactly was it that you said to me?'
'I-I said... I said I guess everything is just my problem today, Sir,' I whimpered. I felt his cock twitch as I addressed him, and groaned as I felt my own sex becoming wet in response.