"No?" The word rang out in the room. The chessboard stood abandoned with its pieces suspended in-game on the table, along with the two glasses of red wine, the file of papers, the application form, the red pen. His suit jacket was slung neatly over one chair; her anorak a jumble on the floor with her satchel. The air in the room, so recently dancing with the coy and playful interplay moments before, had now thickened with purpose. A dark focus emanated from him.
His lips crooked into a smile, as he stood towering in front of her. "Oh, is that how it is going to be then?" He chuckled, and then suddenly grabbed her by the back of the neck. Not so very hard, but firm enough to feel how unrelenting the grip was.
"You don't want it, is that it?" He murmured. "Is that the story you're telling yourself, when those feet took you up all of those steps to come here. At night-time. To my home." He ran his other thumb slowly along her cheek and pulled at her full lips, which parted involuntarily.
"I think you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into." He looked down at her through eyes that had turned stern, but were lit with a cold amusement. She trembled slightly under his gaze.
He sharply pivoted her around and threw her against the wall, pressing her face-first against the cold, smooth surface.
"Your outfit also says otherwise." He noted almost clinically, and ran a hand lightly up one of her taut legs, which were sheathed in stockings. "In fact, I believe your body may be betraying you." He chuckled again as his fingers dipped up under the arc of her skirt and skimmed over her crotch.
"Wet already." He breathed at her right ear and then buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent as he let his hand linger so close that she could feel the heat radiating up to meet hers.
She was blushing furiously at his discovery.
"Well, unfortunately for you, now that you're here that no doesn't mean very much at all." He rasped, his warm breath coiling around the nape of her neck.
"Your body is mine to do with as I like." He punctuated this with a rough grope of her full buttocks and then trailed his hand up along the side of her lithe body, fondling her small pert breasts through the layers of fabric. He pinched a nipple, drawing a gasp from her.
He pulled her hips away from the wall, his other hand still pinning her at neck. He pushed her down and forward so that her back was arched. Her rear felt so exposed and provocative even though they were still covered by her skirt and underwear.
"Yes... I think you know you are a little slut... That's what you want to be." He said more distantly from behind her, and she could feel his gaze from above, as he ran his hands over her body.
A scintillating tremor crept along her skin as his fingers once again unhurriedly inched up her inner thigh. She was so wet; she could feel her clit throbbing, betraying her, throbbing for his hands, his words, his will.
Again his fingers danced over the thin material of her underwear and she let out a gasp.
