Overpowered at the Office

Finally, he pulled back and stared into her eyes. Although no longer pressing against her, his leg remained between hers, effectively pinning her to the cabinets. His left hand released her jaw to cup the side of her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen. Like him, she was panting slightly.

As soon as he kissed her his eyes closed in ecstasy, but he knew hers were open the whole time, possibly except when she squeezed them shut in exertion. Now those glorious hazel eyes glared up into his, blazing indignantly. He continued his silence just drinking in the sight of her, amazed that a girl could look so seductively sultry and infinitely adorable at the same time. She was perfect.

"You- you-!" Lips feeling bruised from his kiss, Sandra couldn't find words to express her shock and fury. Never had a man forced himself upon her, and she couldn't believe that the man was Simon, someone she always respected.

But at that moment his gaze was so disconcertingly obsessive she was temporarily lost for words. Not anything like the Simon she knew, his eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, in his excitement their colour seemed to have darkened into liquid pools of black.

"This is illegal," she said, her voice trembling with anger and fright. "This is assault. It's unacceptable. Let me go!"

Simon shook his head apologetically. "You don't understand," he tried to explain, "I'm still that same guy you've worked with for half a year. It's just...I can't resist you. And you like me, I know you do."

As she shook her head to deny it, his right hand trailed down her body.

"I can't forget what we just shared - I want more." On the last word he bent his head to kiss her again, but this time she managed to duck to the side and his lips grazed her right ear.

As she tried to dash around him he caught her easily and pulled her close into a bear-hug, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Don't fight me, Sandra," he murmured into her ear, his mouth on that sensitive area sending shivers through her body. "I can make this good for both of us."

"You're sick," she snapped, jerking her head back. "I didn't take you for the type to have an ego that can't take rejection."

Twisting her torso, she tried to kick him. Simon grinned and tightened his hold on her, making her whimper. Realising her efforts were useless, she tried to placate him.

"Simon, please!" she insisted, "Enough already! Let me go!"

She squirmed, trying to loosen his hold. "You're holding me too tight!"

Simon didn't think it was possible, but her begging made his erection even harder than before, bordering on painful. Without loosening his grip he easily hoisted her up, chest to his, so their faces were level. She lost a shoe as her feet left the ground.

"Are you going to cooperate?" he asked roughly.

Sandra tried to look away but she couldn't. The desire in his gaze alarmed her, and she could feel his erection more prominently in this position. Crushed against him, she noticed his eyes had hardened in his determination. In that moment she knew he was going to get his way regardless, and possibly hurt her in the process.

For a long moment they faced each other - one apprehensive and uncertain, the other predatory and confident. A tear rolled down Sandra's cheek, and she dropped her head to his chest, hating further intimate contact with him but wanting to escape the tension in her body and most of all, his terrifying stare.

"Please don't hurt me, Simon," she relented, "I'll do what you want."

"Look at me when you say it."

"No." She shook her head against his chest and her soft hair brushed his chin.

Struggling with the temptation to breathe in the scent of her, he gave her a little shake. Always business before pleasure, Simon needed to assert his control first.

"Look at me. Tell me," he persisted.

When she still didn't answer he shook her harder.

"Say what I want to hear, or you'll just drag out the experience," he said.

How she hated him! She heard the smirk in his voice - he said 'experience' it as though it was something for him to enjoy, at her expense. If he was going to be an animal, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of her reactions.

On an angry sigh she raised her head, stared right through him as though he wasn't there, and repeated herself, her voice completely devoid of emotion.

"Please don't hurt me, Simon, I'll do what you want," she said mechanically.

Simon tiled one head to the side, wondering how to tame her. Whilst the first plea fuelled his urges, her second attempt irritated him. By deliberately withholding the emotion from her voice, she lessened his pleasure.

'Strong-willed,' he thought, carefully watching her face.

Although Sandra feigned indifference, Simon noticed her eyes wandered over his face warily, anticipating his next move. He initially planned more kissing and then some heavy petting, but at that moment he changed his tactics. He knew how to curb stubbornness.

Suddenly he dropped Sandra to the ground, startling her, but making sure he supplied enough support so that she wouldn't hurt herself in the fall. She promptly sat on the ground - her legs were not strong enough to stand after a combination of struggling and being held mid-air. Simon grinned down at her from his intimidating height and slipped his hands into his trousers, his erection still visible.

"So, you're going to do what I want, right?" he checked.

Gazing up at him, she nodded apprehensively. He stood between her and the door, and there wasn't room to dodge around him.

Looking desperately past Simon at the exit, Sandra wondered how she ended up in this hellish situation. She thought about how normal things were less than half an hour ago, what she wouldn't give to turn back the clock and hightail it out of there, before Simon had the opportunity to trap her.

Simon held a hand up to his ear, as though he was hard of hearing. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?"

'What a cocky bastard,' she thought, reluctantly breaking her gaze from the door to meet his eyes. Though she knew deep down that he had complete power over her, and she was in big trouble.

"You win, Simon," she gave in, "I'll do what you want."

Smugly, Simon pulled his hands out of his pockets and clapped them together once, as though he was finalising one of the many meetings they had attended together.

"Excellent," he smiled, taking a small step forward so he was directly above her.

When he came closer she immediately scooted backwards until she was half sitting on a lower shelf lined with dusty records. As he opened his mouth to speak again Sandra interrupted, taking a last shot at freedom.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She signalled around the room. "Look at us, you don't have to do this. Think about what you're doing. Think about the consequences!"

He just watched her. His silence wasn't encouraging, so she tried another tactic. She had to make him see reason, she had to at least try.

"If you just let me go now, I won't tell a soul." She pressed a hand to her heart and exhaled heavily to ease her panic. "I swear. I just want to go home. You've had some fun, and scared the shit out of me. I've been through enough tonight.

"Please," she continued earnestly, "It's not too late. We can forget all about this. I just want to go home." On the last word her voice trembled as though she might cry, but she was determined not to, and with a small sniff and a lot of effort managed to avoid it.

Simon crouched down in front of her, and she shrank away from him. The truth was, normally her plea would have had an effect, as he could certainly appreciate her desperate situation. However at that moment, in the grip of pure lust, he wasn't moved in the slightest. In fact, with the way he was feeling, if someone had tried to come to Sandra's aid he might have killed them without thinking.

Simon never considered himself a horrible person, but there was something about Sandra that brought out the sadist in him, and he liked it. All he knew was that he wanted her, more than anything in his entire life.

When people really want something, they tend to find a way, and Simon suddenly struck upon an idea of how to turn an uncertain situation into a positive one.

There was the nagging thought in the back of his mind that he could get caught, and arrested. The chance that Sandra would have him locked up as soon as she was out of his reach. Even if he didn't end up in a cell, now that she knew what he was capable of he'd never get within arms-length of her again. She wasn't the type to tempt fate or make mistakes.

Watching her, shrinking on the floor away from him, he realised the solution to his dilemma. If she thought he only wanted one encounter, she was extremely wrong. But if he didn't reveal this right away, if she believed that she'd soon get to see him thrown in jail, she might be more cooperative in other respects.

It was these other 'respects' that would keep her at his mercy in the long run. Simon hated his tactics, and before this point had managed to avoid the regrettable circumstance of forcing himself on a woman - where women were concerned he was never short of offers. But he couldn't deny that he delighted in this particular chase. Accepting a challenge and winning with flying colours. Besides, all's fair in love and war.

Simon's hand snaked out and though she tried to strain away, he was quick enough to get a firm hold of her chin.

"Tell you what," he said amiably, "I'll let you go... on one condition." He watched the emotions flicker across her face - fear, hope, relief, trepidation.

"What is the condition?" she asked suspiciously.

Tired of crouching, he released her chin and sat back on the ground opposite her. As he moved back he noticed she relaxed a little, and smiled thinking how she would react to his proposition. He spread his hands, palms facing her.

"You have two options." He raised his left hand. "You can fight me till you're exhausted and, although it's not what I want, you might get hurt. Then I'll thoroughly rape you, take your clothes, and you can call the police or whoever you want and they can collect you in the nude. Or..."

Shifting the balance, he lowered his left hand and raised his right. "You give me a blow-job, I'll let you go, and you can keep your clothes on. But we're not talking just any blow-job."

Simon's smile became a grin at Sandra's horrified expression.

"You have to act like you love it," he said. "You have to give it like it's the best thing in the world. Like I'm the one doing you a favour."

Sandra's eyes had widened when he mentioned the rape, and he knew she would never choose that option. But when he gave her option two she turned her face away, eyes squeezed shut in disgust.

Watching her struggle with the humiliating concept of the blow-job, it was difficult not to laugh his triumph. She didn't want to be raped, but acting like she enjoyed pleasuring him didn't hold much more appeal - it was infinitely more degrading.

Sandra's mind was a whirlwind of clashing thoughts. The first option would no doubt be physically painful, not to mention more intimate. The second option would scar her pride.

'He's not going to get that satisfaction,' she thought, savagely. 'I'd rather fight him.'

'What about you?' a second thought overrode the first. 'Look at his size, he'll put you in hospital. And at least he won't get sex. Then you can get out of here in one piece and totally fuck him up.'

Simon had no intention of hurting Sandra, but she couldn't know this. He gambled that she would choose option two. Well aware that the first option would come with torn clothes, minor scratches or bruising, and bodily fluids - she would have an abundance of physical evidence against him and he'd be screwed. But he knew she wouldn't call his bluff.

Before his attack she wouldn't have believed he'd assault her - how could she tell what he was capable of now? Knowledge was his power at present, and in light of his physical strength, she was at a serious disadvantage either way.

"If I agreed to the second option," she said slowly, "how do I know you won't just rape me anyway?"

"Good question," he replied. "But I guess that's a chance you'll have to take. Besides giving you my word, I don't really plan to spend the night here - it could take me a while to recover from your attentions."

Simon rubbed a hand across his broad chest thoughtfully and amusedly watched her shudder when he said 'attentions'.

"I do give you my word," he said, "but the truth is there's no way to be sure."

Watching her contemplate the options - either rough sex or sucking him eagerly, his heart began to race and he grew impatient. His need for her increased with every moment, and his cock was aching for release.

"If you don't make a decision," he continued, his dark eyes narrowed in lust, "by default it'll be option one."

Presented with this new information, she replied automatically.

"I'll blow you." Sandra winced at her own words, but knew he wouldn't let her stall for much longer, and she was genuinely scared he would rape her if she didn't choose.

He picked himself up with surprising agility, and stood looking down at her with a twisted smile on his handsome face.

"Then get started," he murmured, not wanting to give her time for second thoughts. He wasn't in the clear yet.