Overpowered At The Office Ch 08

As Simon dragged Sandra's panties down her legs and over her small feet, she kept her thighs tightly closed together. Tossing the scrap of black cotton aside, he winked at her.

"Open," he ordered, sliding his hands up her legs.

Sandra's face burned in embarrassment as she obeyed.

"Don't even think about kicking," Simon warned, backing off the sofa-bed until he knelt on the floor. He pulled her legs toward him so they hung over the edge.

"Well, hello there. I've missed you," Simon smiled at her pussy. He raised his head a moment to check Sandra's reaction, and saw her stare blankly up at the ceiling, pretending not to hear him.

"Your owner won't admit it, but I know you've missed me too," he teased, slyly lifting his head in time to see Sandra cringe angrily. Lowering his head, he inched closer and she felt his hot breath blow intimately between her legs.

"Oh!" she gasped in surprise, as his mouth fastened onto her inner thigh.

"Mmm-hmm, yes, you're delicious," Simon murmured against her soft skin. Fixing his eyes on her pussy, so close to his face, he forgot all about teasing her.

"Oh, Sandra, I have been waiting to do this...all...night...long," he groaned, kissing his way to her heated centre, feeling her whole body seize up in pleasure.

The bed tensed as her fists clenched the mattress at her sides, and for a long moment there was only the sound of Sandra's ragged breathing as Simon's hot mouth devoured her.

"Try and pretend you don't like this, Sandra," Simon panted his victory from between her legs, his chest heaving with excitement, "I dare you."

Slipping two hands under her perfectly rounded ass-cheeks, Simon lifted her and ducked his head underneath, playfully nipping a smooth, taut buttock. Then he moved back and continued going down on her, circling her clit with his tongue, placing sensual, torturous kisses all around her entrance.

"Oh, God," Sandra's eyes widened as he dipped a tongue inside, shooting waves of pleasure from her pussy straight to her brain. As his attentions progressed, a desire for more gathered within her.

"Oh- oh, God... oh, God...Simon, eat me!" she gasped, unconsciously raising her knees. She'd forgotten everything - who she was, where she was, everything but the feel of his amazing lips and tongue, making her crazy.

Simon used every skill he knew to take her to the brink. As her thighs began to tremble around his face, he reluctantly pulled back, catching his breath after the excitement of tasting her so intimately and hearing her cry out his name.

"I think you want to ask me for something?" he panted, climbing up onto the bed to kneel above her, wildly staring into her stunned eyes.

Sandra's brow furrowed as she met his burning gaze, struggling to think clearly, to recover from her sexual frustration. "I don't know," she said weakly.

"Yes, yes, you do," he encouraged. "You know what to say. Say it, Sandra. Ask me."

Sandra looked at his ecstatic handsome face, his jaw covered in her juices, and closed her eyes to the image, shaking her head. Simon confidently reached down, and her eyes flew open as his fingers danced over her pulsating pussy.

"Come on," he breathed, "come on, Sandra. You know what to say. Tell me you want me. I need to hear it."

In the lamplight Sandra's bright hazel eyes shimmered like liquid gold. Noting her flushed cheeks, knowing she was very turned on, Simon became frustrated. How could she be so stubborn?

"You're going to come, and you know it," he said harshly, spelling it out in a blunt reality check. "And you know it's going to be because of me. You're going to lose, and you're going to love it. We're both going to love it," he said hotly.

Impatiently, he shook her shoulder with one hand. "Talk, Sandra," he growled. "Stop shutting me out, I've earned this."

In lust, his jaw dropped open slightly as he slowly slipped a finger inside her, watching her breasts stretch toward the ceiling as she moaned.

"Say my name again, say it!" he panted, fingering her. In response she wrapped a hand around his wrist but didn't try to pull him away, instead she just held on as he worked on her.

"Simon," she breathed.

"Yes? Yes? What?" he pressed her eagerly, unable to take his eyes from her tortured face. He brushed his thumb over her swollen clit as he pumped a second finger into her tightness, and her hips bucked upwards before she could stop herself.

"I want you, Simon," she said, in a small voice.

"How?" he asked urgently, his eyes narrowing in desire.

Sandra turned her face away and he had to strain to hear her. "I want you...I want you inside me."

"Again!" he demanded.

"I- I want you inside me," she said a little louder, hating herself, but unsure how to cope with the unfamiliar, irrational need for satisfaction.

"Again!" Simon yelled suddenly, startling her, and his hand left her shoulder to roughly turn her face toward him. He was losing control, becoming desperate for her to need him, like he needed her. "Use my name! You have to do better than that, Sandra!"

"No!" Sandra screamed back at him, her dignity pushed too far, "I won't! You can't make me!"

Before she could defy him further, Simon exhaled in his longing and his mouth swooped down onto hers, and again she could only moan into his face as he kissed her deeply. As her lips parted on his, she tasted her juices, felt his shaking hands move up to capture her breasts.

Sandra's whole body seemed to burn, like she was on heat, but she'd be damned if she'd admit it to him. With her singlet bunched up around her neck, her naked chest pressed to his, the position seemed more erotic than if she'd been fully naked. It was as though they were having some kind of 'sex fight', and Sandra believed she finally understood what people meant by 'angry sex'. She felt wild, primal, and reckless. While one hand grasped his shoulder the other reached down and boldly stroked his cock through his underwear, making him groan.

Almost as soon as she traced his hardness, she dragged her hand away as reality flooded back to her. Immediately she regained the senses she'd discarded in lust, realised her surroundings, what she was doing. A deep, intense anger seemed to cut her from the inside as she recognised the situation she'd been forced into, what a fool he was making of her, while he enjoyed her body.

Jerking her head back from his kiss, her eyes flashed at him as she threw it all in his face.

"Fuck you, Simon" she hissed, spitting out each word like venom. "I don't want you, I don't need you. You disgust me!"

For a terrible moment they stared at each other, both struggling for breath. Sandra was panting from arousal, adrenaline and genuine shock at her own daring. Simon's chest heaved from barely restrained lust and the devastating blow of her rejection. With disastrously perfect timing, he felt the sharp pain in his side burn anew, as though her words had ripped open his wound.

"You, bitch!" he snarled. The melting warmth in his eyes was replaced with volcanic-black ash as he spoke through clenched teeth. "Have it your way!"

Sandra cried out as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragged her up to him so their faces almost touched, and forced her over onto her stomach. With one hand she tried to disengage his hold while the other strained to push herself up from the sofa-bed.

"You don't seem tired, as you said before," he observed mockingly, easily moving forward and sitting on her lower back so she couldn't budge. "You seem full of energy to me."

"Fuck you!" she screamed into the bed, struggling, her pretty face scrunched up in pain as he tightened his grip on her hair, holding her down.

"I will, oh, I will," he growled, sliding back and easily tugging her up with him by her hair, onto all fours. "I will fuck you, Sandra, it's just a shame this is how you want it."

Keeping her docile with his hand mercilessly tangled in her locks, Simon angrily ripped his underwear down with his other hand, releasing his straining cock.

For a moment his eyes flared as he gazed at her perfect body from behind, tensely bent over, trapped. But even in his intense arousal he felt an insuppressible rage build within as he recognised, despite his supreme physical dominance, he wasn't getting what he wanted. Simon had immensely enjoyed pursuing Sandra, he'd delighted in her fighting him, but now he needed her to ache for his touch, to want him and no one else. It was the one thing he couldn't physically force her to do, and it just happened to be the most important to him.

"I've had it with you!" Simon shouted, completely losing it, his composure collapsing as his grand plans of seduction shattered around him. "I've tried to be patient, but you just won't listen! Don't you get it?"

Cruelly pulling on her hair with once hand, he brutally groped her pussy with the other, deliberately spreading her juices all around her thighs, and she squealed at his rough handling of her. "See how wet you are? You're wet for me! For me! Not some shit-head called Peter!" he screamed, insanely jealous of a man he'd never met.

Sandra shrieked in pain and rage as she felt him line up and push into her.

"You can beg me for love, or you can beg me for mercy. It's your choice, but you'll be begging me for something, Sandra, that I promise you!" he ranted bitterly, sharply slapping her ass as he pressed forward.

Sandra grit her teeth and exhaled sharply as his cock forced its way inside her, again spreading her open, inch by inch. Determined to be silent, not to give him any reaction or response whatsoever, she turned her face into the soft mattress. She told herself to think of England, to let him do his worst without giving him the satisfaction of hearing her cries.

"Maybe you'll know better when I knock you up," he muttered, painfully jabbing into her further. Though his thoughts were jumbled with fury and a desire to punish, Simon didn't thrust in completely. He wanted to teach her an unpleasant lesson, not tear her insides.

Horror spread across Sandra's face as she heard his words. In her focus on survival she never thought about pregnancy, and suddenly recognised her foolishness in persistently working against him. Nothing he had said or done that night could compare to the threat now laid before her.

"Simon wait! You can't! Please, Simon, wait!" she pleaded, discarding her resolve to be brave in a heartbeat. Dropping down onto her forearms, she frantically tried to escape as she felt herself again slowly being stuffed, feeling her pussy burn as she again seemed to split open to accommodate his size. He maintained his grip on her hair and leaned forward with her, sliding in deeper as the other hand distractedly stroked up and down her back, squeezing the bare flesh of her hip, pinching her ass.

"Oh, no! No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Simon, please, look at me!" she wept, feebly trying to loosen his hold on her.

Simon paused, and Sandra felt him shudder behind her as he struggled to catch his breath. Though he was almost beyond leniency, he wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to hear her beg.

Sandra whimpered in relief as he slowly raised his body and pulled out. She was so tight, to Simon it felt as though her small pussy was sucking onto him, trying to keep him inside her. He released her hair and roughly flipped her over to face him, raking a frustrated hand over his head.

"Yes, Sandra?" he asked softly, though his chest belied his tone as it expanded, his breath coming hard and fast. Speaking gently, his quiet voice hummed with dangerously tested patience.

On her back, Sandra looked up at him fearfully, knowing she needed to appease him, whatever it took. She'd grovel, fake it, shove her pride through a shredder, it didn't matter - she could never carry this man's child. Trying not to curl into a ball and resisting the urge to pull her singlet down and cover her nakedness, she looked up at his tall, intimidating figure and earnestly ate her words.

"I'm sorry, Simon," she said breathlessly, "I'm sorry about what I said before, I didn't mean it... I didn't mean it!"

Simon didn't move or respond, and her mind flashed back to when she was on the dusty floor in the file-room, begging him to let her go while he'd stood over her silently.

"I want you," she insisted, "I do. I'll show you. I'll be good, I promise. Please," her voice shook as tears threatened to overcome her. "Please don't come inside me, Simon. I'll do anything."

Darkly watching her, Simon impatiently turned his head to the side and cracked his neck, considering her plea for a long moment before speaking. Sandra shivered, having never seen his eyes so callous.

"Another trick, Sandra?" he asked coldly, raising a fist and slowly running his knuckles under his chin in a gesture as calculating as it was threatening. "Got another hair accessory behind your back?"

Under his fierce gaze Sandra shook her head, frightened.

"You keep assuring me, and then you fight me," Simon said flatly, and though he kept his voice level, his jaw tightened in anger, and his brown eyes were mean.

"This is your last chance, do you understand?" he told her sharply. "I've given you far more leeway than any other woman. I've tolerated insult after insult from you. I'm getting really, really sick of warning you, and not following through."

"I'm sorry," Sandra said, in a hushed voice. She sniffed and brushed a tear from her cheek, silently wondering what other women had suffered at his hands in the past.

Finally his body relaxed as he felt the anger leave his body, quickly replaced by a building desire as he recognised his disrupted plans were back on track. He leaned forward and gathered her into his arms so they were both upright, kneeling together.

Willing to accept comfort from any source in her fear, Sandra buried her face in his chest as he held her, breathing in her hair. Although very ruffled, her tresses were surprising fresh and fragrant, despite the sweaty tussling they'd done throughout the night.

"We're going to make love," Simon whispered into the top of her head. He held her tight, loving the feel of her softness against him, trying to settle her as she quaked in his arms.

"Don't cry," he soothed, easing her shoulders back so he could look down at her. He cupped her cheek with his hand, gently brushing the tears from her flushed face as she kept her eyes downcast, staring miserably at his wide chest. Then he pulled her against him, stroking one hand up and down her back until her trembling subsided.

When he felt she'd sufficiently calmed down, he playfully pushed her and she fell lightly backwards, staring up at him nervously.

"Don't test me again, Sandra," he murmured, and it was clear in his voice that there would be no more chances. When she quickly shook her head to assure him she wouldn't, he gave her a last warning look before moving back down her body, lowering his face to her pussy.