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I need to get a grasp on my surroundings here so I can decide my next move. I’m not safewording out. I’m just not.
I need to think rationally about this.
Ben must think I’m safe here on the patio or he never would have shoved me out that door. He’s far too concerned with consent and possible litigation to put me in actual danger.
I decide to lean into that.
I turn around and face him just as the sky lights up once more, the brilliant electric white and blue reflected in his eyes. I hold that gaze and take a deep breath.
And then I turn and start to walk away.
I hear the door behind me open immediately and try to break into a run, but the puddle of water I happen to be standing in at that moment foils that plan. I go down hard on one knee and both hands, scrambling to get myself back up.
Ben’s behind me with both arms around my waist, capturing me and lifting my body as I flail and kick, screaming at him to let me go.
I make it as hard for him as I possibly can, but I’m no match for his strength as he drags me back up the patio and presses me over the stone table. The surface is slightly dipped in the center, meaning it’s completely filled with water at this point. More water pounds down from the sky as the wind continues to try to throw us sideways.
Ben is unmovable behind me, hips pressing mine to the table. He captures my hands even as I swing them wildly to try to prevent it.
I’m disappointed at how easy it was for him to take me down. I hope that if I knew the stakes were higher, I would have done a better job at fighting back. But it’s hard to say. When actually faced with this kind of situation, the whole thing is a lot harder than I ever imagined it would be. It moves too quickly for rational thought and my instincts are apparently not up to par.
Ben shifts one hand to hold both of my wrists at the small of my back and fists his other hand in my soaking wet mess of hair. “Quite the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into now, isn’t it?”
I struggle against him, even though it’s pointless.
Ben uses his grip in my hair to press my face down into the puddle of water on the surface of the table. I hold my breath and clench my eyes and mouth closed.
Finally, he pulls me back up, sputtering and coughing.
“I’m going to give you one more chance to do the right thing here, lover,” Ben says, leaning down so his face is parallel to mine.
He wants me to safeword out so we can go back inside. But that would mean he won the game. There’s no way.
“Fuck. You.” I spit the words into his face.
He smiles. “Yes, that’s the idea.”
His face disappears from my view as he stands back up. His grip on my hair relaxes, and I feel my shorts and underwear pulled roughly down to my knees.
“Shall we see how wet you are for me, lover?”
He laughs softly at his own joke as the rain continues to drench us. I feel my legs pushed roughly apart and his hand enters me without warning.
I gasp and squeeze my eyes closed, trying my hardest not to come at the first bit of contact that I've been dying for.
“So fucking wet. Inside and out.”
“Let me go.” It's a pathetic attempt, and Ben doesn’t even bother to respond.
The next thing I feel is his hard, swollen tip driving into my entrance. He has to push my legs further apart to get the angle he needs to press his enormous, hard cock further into my body, but I’m a puppet in his hands. With a few firm presses, he seats himself inside me.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
I’m teetering on the edge of orgasm once more, his harsh entrance having rubbed my clit just the right way. He continues that sweet, rough rub as he slides out and shoves himself back in.
It’s brutal and terrifying, cold and chaotic, but it also might be the best thing I’ve ever felt. I’m a prisoner to this man, but free as a bird in my own mind. The confinement allows me to let go for a moment and just be.
Ben is slowly sliding his tip up and down my inner walls, still pressing my hands to my lower back.
