Page 67 of Contention

“Is this your idea of a good time?” Kara makes a noise of derision, because she’s irritated, following after him. She thinks of something horrid to say. “You’re being an absolute cunt of a man child!”

Oh, that gets him. The lines of his spine stiffen so quickly that she can even see it happen through his sport coat, still donned. “What did you call me?” The words sound like a storm brewing in the distance and Kara is ready to see it hit.

Feeling her breath come and go quickly, Kara’s mouth twists nastily and she says, “You heard what I said.” For good measure, she kicks off one of her heels in his direction. It doesn’t hit him, but it does clatter to the ground very close to his feet, a clear threat.

He looks over his shoulder at her slowly, like out of a horror movie. He hasn’t turned any lights on, so it’s rather dark and ominous. “Shut the door.”

With a sneer, Kara grabs the door and slams it shut with all her might.

She barely has a moment to collect herself before she’s pressed up against it. Kara gasps in outrage and slight surprise, the doorknob digging into her back. Calais has his hips pressed against her, his lips crashing down on hers in a wave of fury. His hands, strong and domineering, are at her waist and shoulder. He tastes of gin and lime, his tongue overpowering her own as he counts her fucking teeth with it. Kara can only keep herself standing, feeling her legs go shaky.

He’s like a whirlwind of power, aggressive and vicious, his teeth playing with her lips precariously. He descends downward, his mouth finding her neck, teeth sinking in hard enough that Kara gasps, knowing she’ll have a bruise.

She doesn’t know what to do with her hands. Does she push him away or pull him closer? Kara attempts to knee his groin, but he’s simply too near for it to be impactful. Snarling, she tries to knock him off his feet, hitting at him, digging her fingernails into his biceps. “You beast! You’re hurting me!”

In response he grabs her by the hair and hip before slamming her backwards against the door. Kara tries clawing at his eyes and he grabs her fingers in one of his large hands, squeezing hard enough to make it hurt. Kara sinks against the door, panting with effort, looking up at him with heated eyes.

He’s simply too strong to fight. Kara has to remind herself that this is what she signed up for. Stupid!

Calais chuckles coldly, leaning down to press his teeth against her jugular. He’s got a scratch on his cheekbone. “God, you’re a fucking bitch.”

With a show of strength, he turns her around, pressing her front to his door, forcing her stretchy skirt up to her hips, exposing her rear. She tries to tear out of his grasp, but he only presses her harder against the wood with finality. “Stay where I put you,” he growls viciously.

He pauses, breathing hard. Desire coils in Kara’s belly, unintentionally, knowing he’s looking at her red thong, his eyes probably tracing it between her globes of flesh. His hands caress her skin now, his thumbs dipping into the crease, tracing downward. His breathing changes.

His desire for her is strangely arousing.

Kara feels adrenaline spike and a breathy little gasp escapes her lips. She’s torn between fear and arousal. She widens her stance a bit and he notices, emitting a sharp bark of laughter. “Look how eager you are,” he hisses. He presses his front up against her, thrusting his erection against her bare cheeks. “Ready and eager for some cock.”

It’s dizzying to realize he’s hard, really hard, and the knowledge makes Kara wet. She feels herself begin to moisten, her nether lips swelling with arousal. He tugs a bit on her thong, pulling it backwards so that it rubs hard against her clit. “Oh…” she gasps out, pressing her fingertips into the wood in front of her while pressing her rear backwards.

His still clothed cock fits so nicely between her cheeks and he rubs it there, biting back a groan of his own. One of his hands finds its way under her small scrap of underwear, delving between her legs. “What’s this?” He breathes darkly. “Wet already? Christ, you’re practically gagging for this.” At that, two of his fingers delve inside of her, filling her with a gentle stretch that has Kara moaning. Finally.

She’s burning. The need inside of her is like a flame. The scent of him, the sound of him, all of it twisting her up inside.

In and out he slowly slides his fingers, stroking through the mess of her sex. When he pulls his fingers out completely, he palms her, rubbing her arousal all around. He pulls some of it backwards, towards the entrance that no one has touched, fingers precariously circling it.

His touch is so possessive, as if he believes she is an object that belongs to him.

The violation of it makes her feel dirty and lustful. Seeing her practically writhing under him, Calais makes of noise of amusement, his pointer and middle finger delving back into her aching center, all while his ring finger sneaks gently into her rear, testing her.

Kara stiffens in surprise, the sensation of being penetrated in both parts of her different, but not bad. She’s ashamed that she doesn’t dislike it, feeling full and consumed by him. Like he’s taking ownership of her body, claiming every piece of it that he can.

Slowly, he drills into her, warming her body up, softening her to the sensations of being fucked. Kara gasps, reaching downward to play with her clit, needing some friction. She sighs loudly, electricity running through her veins. She gushes around his fingers, bathing him in her arousal. He groans deep in his throat, an animalistic sound.

Shame is at war with desire in her belly.

“Want me to fuck you in both, slut?” He spins her around, pulling at her shirt, her last real defense against anything.

Her shirt comes away far too easily, even as she struggles against him. Now, she stands in just her lacy bra and her black skirt, hoisted up around her hips. Exposed.

His eyes are drinking her in, hungry. A predator. His cock is hard in his jeans, large and ready. Kara wonders what he tastes like, if he’s leaking precum in his eagerness to defile her.

“You’re a filthy bastard, aren’t you?” She adds fuel to the fire, feeling her lip curl. She channels her father, because it makes her feel powerful and far braver than she actually is. “You’re a fucking pig and if you want anything from me, you’ll come to heel like the dog you are!”

Calais stares at her like he’s never seen her before. Like suddenly he’s found an interesting puzzle that he just can’t figure out. Like he can’t believe this is even happening, like he’s surprised he got a certain present at Christmas that he never expected to actually get. Then he sneers, “You think you have any control here?” He yanks her head back hard, watching her wince. “You put yourself in my grasp and you’ll not leave it until I say so.”

With a possessive hand on the nape of her neck, he propels her towards the guest bedroom, passing by what she knows is his room. Her hands try to pry his grip off of her, but to no avail. It reminds her so much ofher fatherand the blur of memories and reality is almost disturbing.

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