Willing Victim

Laurel pursed her lips. "Are you threatening me?"
"I never threaten a woman unless she begs me to." His smile came slow and sticky, dripping with put-on sweetness.

"Right, Laurel White. I'm Michael Flynn." He shook her hand curtly. "You've (view spoiler)[watched me f@ck (hide spoiler)] and we know each other's full names. That enough for your first night?"

"Well, draw yourself a pretty little blueprint and do me a favor and don't show it to me. I like fighting, and I like f@cking. I don't care much for thinking."

"I'm so f@cking ready, you're gonna get me off before we start playing. Taste me," he ordered.

"I'm a selfish prick, and I want to be the greatest f@ck of your life and ruin you for every man who comes after me. But I'm not a mind reader, so I need some help. Otherwise I could end up as the douchebag who's got shitty taste in wine and totally traumatized you when you were thirty."
"Twenty-nine."
"So tell me," he breathed, right behind her ear. "What do you want me to do to you?"

"I'm at the Dunkies by my site and I figured out what you smell like."
Laurel made a noise only she heard, a little laugh caught in her nose. "Oh. What's that?"
"That gooey stuff inside a Boston crème donut. That's what you smell like. Now I'll get a hard-on every time I eat one."
She snorted. "Did you just call to sexually harass me?"
"I'm allowed now, ain't I?"

"Aren't you supposed to wear a mouth guard?" Laurel asked.
(...)
"I hate those things. They make me feel like I'm choking on something."
"Guess I'll never get you into a ball gag, huh?" she asked.
Flynn met the remark with a withering sneer. "Keep that snark up and you'll get yourself punished, missy."

"F@cking lay still," he whispered. He reached down and pushed the crotch of her panties to one side, big fingers finding her pussy wet and ready. "Oh yeah, you're gonna feel beautiful."

He forced his thumb between her lips, got her teeth apart even as Laurel bit down as hard as she thought she could without breaking his skin. His tongue slid into her mouth, finding hers and giving her as explicit and dirty a kiss as he could manage. He pulled away, keeping his face close, pressing his forehead to hers and sliding his thumb out of her mouth.

"Let's quit our jobs and f@ck all day."

He pressed his neck into her touch, spoke through a heavy sigh. "I like when you do that."
"Do what?"
"You know…" His voice faded to a mumble. "Fuss over me."
"Take care of you?"

"And maybe afterward we could come back here and not have sex."
"Sounds fucking sensational," Flynn murmured, pulling her tight against him so she felt his hardening cock. "Can't wait to not have sex with you."

"You keep busting my balls and I might just trick you into sticking around."
She laughed, embarrassed and flattered. Relieved.
"But don't worry, not 'til we get better at not having sex."

I like fighting, and I like fucking. I don't care much for thinking.

He looked both lean and heavy, ra

I like fighting, and I like fucking. I don't care much for thinking.

He looked both lean and heavy, raw and bruised and tattooed and feral. Muscles sicced and jumped in this arms as he stripped cotton bandaging off his wrists and tossed it in the trash basket behind him.

God,Flynn"
"That's right. Say my name. Tell me who's fucking that tight cunt."

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"Fall in love with me." Horror slapped her hand in the face as the words tumbled out of her subconsciousness in the air between them.
"I will," he said, still panting, still lost in the fucking.
"I didn't' mean that."
He laughed, sounding exasperated. "Fine. But you keep treating me the way you have been, and I will. Whether you like it or not." He groaned. "But I won't say it in the middle of getting my brains fucked out, so relax."

"Fall in love with me." Horror slapped her hand in the face as the words tumbled out of her subconsciousness in the air between them.
"I will," he said, still panting, still lost in the fucking.
"I didn't' mean that."
He laughed, sounding exasperated. "Fine. But you keep treating me the way you have been, and I will. Whether you like it or not." He groaned. "But I won't say it in the middle of getting my brains fucked out, so relax."

He was bare to the waist, powerful muscles lit stark by the white light, sultry by the red. He looked both lean and heavy, raw and bruised and tattooed and feral. Muscles ticced and jumped in his arms as he stripped cotton bandages off his wrists and tossed it in the trash basket behind him.

When his chest brushed hers she wrapped her arms around his back, grateful for his strength. Grateful he might be in her corner she she decided she was ready to learn how to be strong again herself.

“Friday and Saturday nights, eight to one. Tell the guy working that Flynn invited you...If that doesn’t scare you off,” he said, “you can try askin’ me out again.”

“Neither of us is here to prove anything,” he said. “We’re here to have fun, and for you to maybe get your motor cranked like you never knew it could be. Or not. Who knows? My ego’s not tied up in this going a certain way. The only thing that makes me nervous is hurting you by mistake, and I trust myself enough to think that’s unlikely.”

She swallowed and winced, accepting the violation, trying to welcome the sensation. Still not her favorite thing, but with Flynn she didn’t feel pressured or coerced, cajoled. He was simply dirty, ready to take, seemingly without permission.

The things this man craved could be blacker than the sky above them, rough enough to bruise and sharp enough to sting.
And tonight they were hers to give. Hers alone.

« ...one summer afternoon a tall, built bruiser named Flynn strides in and steers her straight

« ...one summer afternoon a tall, built bruiser named Flynn strides in and steers her straight into an infatuation she never saw coming. Flynn introduces Laurel to things she’s never imagined—to the violent but exciting realm of the underground boxing circuit, to rough sex and even rougher role-playing, and to an attraction she craves even as it intimidates her. »