Page 49 of Wretched Choices

“Don’t move your hands.” His hand moves between my legs, touching me gently with his fingers. I whimper under his touch, and in seconds, my panties dig into my skin just before they’re ripped from me. I watch him take the fabric to his nose and inhale deeply before pocketing them.

I hear the buckle of his belt open, followed by his zipper.

Yes, please. I need him inside me.

He opens the foil condom packet with his teeth. I didn’t even think of birth control. Last time, we didn’t use protection. I put that thought aside for now. I want to enjoy this.

I watch him roll the condom on with one hand while his other is on my neck, still pinning me down.

“Tonight, I take what I want. You don’t have any say in how you get what I give you.”

He slams into me, taking my breath away when the pressure on my neck grows, his hand squeezing.

My hands wrap around his forearm, keeping it there, not pushing. Just a small act of reassurance that I’ll take it.

He pulls his cock out all the way and slams into me again and again, filling me in a way I never thought possible. He places one of my legs on his shoulders, my other wrapped around his waist, and he keeps pounding into me.

I grip his hand tighter as the deprivation of oxygen does its work even if he isn’t choking hard. But I fall into what feels like some other dimension until my body screams, wanting release.

The tingling feeling down my spine grows until it moves down to my stomach and explodes. My nails dig into his hand, my muscles contracting, and I come for what feels like a long time. I see black dots in front of me as the hand on my neck tightens, followed by a groan and a loud, “Fuck.” Just as I think I’ll black out and lose my breath, the pressure on my neck is gone.

My eyes widen as I try to catch my breath, my brain realizing what just happened.

He choked me while fucking me.

“Are you okay?” he asks like this is a normal thing for him to do. Maybe it is, but I can’t know that because I don’t really know him.

Is this who he is? Is this what turns him on? I never expected him to be caring or gentle. I expected mostly rough sex.

This was more, though. It was about control, something he didn’t have last time.

Is this about him being in control? If so, why does he look so conflicted?

I’m too dumbfounded to even think about how I feel. I would have thought I would panic. I didn’t. I wanted more.

I gave him control over me.

I trusted him when I shouldn’t have. So, what does that make me?

“Are you okay?” He narrows his eyes, his voice edged with concern.

I realize I was deep in my thoughts.

“I’m fine.” I push myself up on my elbows. “Are you?”

He looks at me, confused, before blinking a few times. Ignoring my question, he takes the straps of my bra and pushes them up on my shoulders. He trails my skin with the back of his hand from my shoulder down to my breast, waking my body again. And if that wasn’t enough, I can feel him growing bigger inside me again.

He didn’t pull out.

Like he can hear my thoughts, he drops his hand and pulls out. I wince but stay in my place, not moving an inch as I watch him take the condom off and toss it in the bin.

“Stay here. I’ll be back.” He walks toward the door, tucking himself in, leaving me confused on his desk without panties and with a ripped blouse.

With a groan, I get down from the desk and try to make myself presentable to walk out. Not that anyone will notice my state. I knot the blouse under my breasts; it should work.

I look around his neat office that reflects his dominating personality. It’s not that I didn’t like what he did, it is just another piece of the puzzle. Every time he does something, it’s confusing because what he does doesn’t match his public profile.

And that is making him even more interesting.

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