ELLIS FINALLY GETS WHAT SHE WANTS

FRANK HELD HER WRISTS BEHIND HER BACK WHILE HE kissed her hard. Ellis didn’t struggle; she knew she could free her hands but she liked the illusion of submission. There was anger in Frank’s grip, he was hurting her a little bit, and it was thrilling. He pushed her up against the wall and ground his body against her.

“This what you’re looking for?” He kissed her again then bit her neck. “What you’ve been after all along, huh?”

Ellis smiled. It would certainly break the mood if she answered, “Yes, as a matter of fact this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. It’s about time you grew some balls.” Instead she moaned as he kissed her and ran his hands over her breasts.

He was rough, not at all his usual careful self. He released her wrists, grabbed the neck of her t-shirt with both hands and ripped it straight down the middle. Ellis wasn’t wearing a bra and she could feel her nipples tighten with excitement. No one had ever treated her this way. Ellis had spent her life dominating people, everyone around her, but not today. There was actually something a little scary about Frank’s rage. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her body close to him. With his right hand he grabbed her breast and pinched her nipple between his thumb and index finger then squeezed while he glared into her eyes. The pain shot straight through her body and lodged, sharp and hard, right between her legs. This was new, something she couldn’t control. She was completely present, mind and body, feeling the pain, not thinking ahead to what was next, not drifting away from the moment. For the first time, Frank had her.

And then he let her go. He walked towards the door, picked up his keys off the table and stepped out onto the porch. He was leaving.

Ellis stood for a moment and watched him walk away. Let him go, she thought. He’ll be back. But then she rushed outside, not bothering to cover her bare breasts, not caring who saw her. She grabbed him by the arm but he didn’t turn.

“Wait.”

He turned and she saw his anger. He looked like a different person, harder, almost mean and all business-like in his fancy clothes. “Stay,” she said.

Frank grabbed Ellis above the elbow and led her back into the house. His grip was too strong, his pull too forceful, and Ellis knew there would be a bruise but she felt peaceful and calm. He kicked the door, hard, so it slammed shut. Then he released her arm.

“Take off your pants.”

Ellis didn’t question him. She unzipped her jeans and let them drop to the ground. Who knew that surrendering control could be so damn exciting? She started to take off her white lace thong but Frank shook his head.

“Bend over.” His voice was harsh as he pointed at the dining table.

Ellis practically swooned at the command. She moved the chair aside and leaned over the table. A giggle, like an itch, was working toward the surface but she held her breath. She braced herself on the table and waited. She could feel Frank standing there behind her, looking at her. She could feel his heat and the extreme reaction from her body. She thought he’d touch her soon, maybe caress her ass; he loved her ass. But nothing happened. She just stood there for what seemed like minutes. She longed to turn around, to kiss him, to bring him back to her, but she dared not. This was Frank’s game now, Frank’s rules. Somehow he’d taken the wheel and she liked it, she loved it. Why did she want to cry?

He cupped her ass with both hands then ran his fingers lightly along the center, down to where the panties hugged her pussy. He touched her through the fabric, pushing gently along the ridge of her clit, a tease that made her throb. Then he went back to rubbing her ass. Round and round his hands went over the smooth skin of her cheeks. It felt sexy and somehow nurturing. Ellis found herself relaxing into the massage; nothing had ever felt so good. She pushed back into his hands and found herself moaning with pleasure. No man had ever taken her here.

And then he hauled off and slapped her. It wasn’t like the playful spankings that she sometimes gave Pablo, little swats to let him know she was in charge. No. This was meant to hurt. And it did. It knocked her sideways and she almost fell. She braced herself on the table and waited for what came next, hypnotized by the violence of it. One, two, three times he slapped her ass. The sear and sting of his hand was exhilarating. She could feel her pussy ignite. So why was she crying, long racking sobs?