He came on strong. He didn't want to wine and dine, he just wanted her... hot... hard... and now.
"I sent an Uber. Be ready in 10 minutes," he texted.
She quickly changed as instructed and got into the Uber. She was shy, nervous, and a little afraid. Not of him, just of the intensity and force. He had dominated their flirtation up to now, and she wasn't used to giving up control or submitting. She laughed at the thought of it and the promises within, which gave her confidence and calm.
The door opened. He welcomed her in, barefoot as he was, shirtsleeves untucked and a scotch in hand. She stepped inside, shed her coat and watched as he smirked at her dress and heels. He stepped into her space, and with a swift movement, put one hand above her head, pinned her up against the door and growled in her ear, "Are you ready?"
"Yes," she replied, nearly melting down to her toes.
"Good," he replied as she stepped back, "because tonight you're mine and you're going to remember that."
She bent over carefully to remove her shoes.
"No," he stopped her.
He took her hand as she stood up. He guided her with him as they slipped deeper into the house.
He led her to the ottoman in the living room, "Kneel," he demanded.
She tentatively knelt forward on the ottoman as he pushed her down. His erection was already hard and hefty, threatening to burst from his pants.