Ariana woke with a start, Patrick still asleep beside her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed to get up. He woke up, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her back into bed. She put up a half struggle, not so much trying to break free as playing along. She secretly loved his strong arms around her, making her feel safe and dominated at the same time. He yanked her back roughly, like a rag doll, pinning her down. She fought a little harder, trying to throw him off. He bit her neck. She scratched her nails down his back. The fighting had merely become a part of their foreplay. Ariana found she couldn't even get into sex without it anymore. The idea of conquering any man was an instant turn off. She needed to be taken. To be possessed.
"Tell me you need it, slut," he said, teasing her with the tip of his cock. Tell me you need it and you might get it. Beg me."
"I won't"
He grabbed her wrists and pinned them, squeezing a little too hard. The pain was beginning to be an addiction. A necessary component.
"You don't want it deep inside you, throbbing, like a time bomb? Waiting to explode? This time may be the time, you know. I know you're ovulating. You're leaking like a faucet. Beg for it."
"Please don't make me. I won't fight you this time. I'm all yours. Just please don't make me beg again. It's humiliating."
