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“No. I mean…I don’t know.”
I release her entirely, pulling my fingers from her warm pussy and dropping my grip on her hair. I take a step back and leave her gasping against the door, pants around her knees.
“Is that all this is? You didn’t leave when you had the chance because you thought I’d be mad if you did?”
She turns, the picture of dishevelment, hands raking through her own hair as she tries to form a sentence. “No, I mean. I do want to…I mean, I don’t know.”
“Victoria,” I growl, allowing my displeasure at her indecisiveness to echo against the walls.
Her knees buckle and she slides her back down the wall until her butt hits the ground. “I don’t know why I’m still here. I don’t know exactly what I want. But is it so terrible to want to please you?”
And what I want, of course, is for this strong, beautiful, courageous woman to stand up for herself.
But I also want her cowering on the floor in front of me.
I want both things equally, and the war between the two nearly splits my mind in half.
I wish I was a stronger man. The kind who would wipe her tears and fix her hair. Help her to her feet and give her a nice little lecture about stranger danger.
Maybe I even thought I was that man, before the lock slid closed on this bathroom door.
But I know now that I’m not.
“If you want to please me so much, take your clothes off.”
Her eyes shoot to mine and go wide for just a moment before she springs into action. Her top comes off first, and my mouth waters at the sight of her beautiful, handful-sized tits, bouncing as she pushes herself to her feet and strips the tight pants down.
“Face the wall again.”
She turns and presses her palms flat against the door, her right hand just inches from the deadbolt.
The fact that her escape is so close and she refuses to take it…well, that does something to me.
“Spread and bend over.”
She obeys, sliding her feet apart and then shuffling them back so her arms extend in front of her as she bends at the waist.
The view of her wet, spread pussy, waiting just feet from my cock, is a glorious fucking sight.
“I don’t have any condoms.”
“That’s okay,” she says, too quickly.
“It’s not fucking okay. Say it.”
“It’s…that’s not okay.” She stumbles over the words, but manages to get through them.
“Oh, really. You think you get to decide what goes down here, huh?” I know what a low blow I dealt her, but I want to see her crumble. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.
“I…I mean…I didn’t?—”
I cross the room in two strides and grip her around her waist at the same time I drive my fingers back inside her. “What did you mean, then?”
“I’m clean.”
“And?”
“And you need to tell me right now if you’re clean, too.”
