He grabbed her arm, not roughly, but firm enough that she wouldn't have been able to pull free. She didn't try to though, why would she? He didn't pull her to him, but rather stepped up to her, into her personal space, wrapping her arm around his back as he did. He traced his hand, the real one, up the length of her arm, pressing the palm down on her flesh to cause a wonderful friction and leave a trail of warmth behind. His hand reached up her neck as he snaked his other arm around her back and pulled her firmly against him. He didn't grip her neck as she'd expect, but reached up to cupped her cheek.
His palm warmed her face as his rough thumb stroked her chin, his fingers laying along her temple and behind her ear. He didn't kiss her, just stared into her eyes with an intensity that made her heart hammer against her ribs. She tried not to stare back into his blue orbs, the colour was so bright! She knew he wanted her to match his gaze though, so finally she gave into him. She felt the warmth of her blush, caused by the heat of his scrutiny, as it blossomed up the flesh of her throat and across her face. He smiled then, just a little so that only the creases at the corners of his eyes and the ever so slight thinning of lips bespoke the gesture. But she saw it, how could she not?
"Are you afraid of me love?" Those lips framed each word in a way that was positively erotic. Her mouth was dry from the heat of her blush, though the folds of her sex where slick. She swallowed to moisten her tongue, and buy herself a few precious seconds to frame a response. His lips parted and he ran the tip of his tongue along his full bottom lip. Her gut clenched as she followed the path of his tongue, he didn't miss the way her pupils dilated.
"Yes," she whispered. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, she had known that before she spoke. "I'm afraid," she continued, bunching his vest tightly in her fist, pulling him just that tiny bit closer to herself. "But I might weep if you don't kiss me already". With a throaty chuckle he slowly brought his face to hers.
His lips pressed into her own with a maddening slowness, and she whined in frustration. Then suddenly he ran his fingers into her hair and gripped the back of her head, pressing her into him. His lips parted around her own and his tongue pressed to the seem of her mouth. He pulled sharply on her hair when she didn't open for him and she yelped from the sudden, sharp pain. With a smug rumble in his chest he plunged his tongue between her parted lips and set to claiming her.
She thought about fighting him, because she knew it would drive him crazy. Ulysses Klaue was the kind of man that got what he wanted. He was brilliant and ruthless, and unafraid of what might be necessary to obtain his goals. Right then his goal was the conquest of her flesh, and she cheekily thought to make it as has hard for him as possible. He was an accomplished lover, she well knew, who could be both gentle and rough, swift or maddeningly slow. His moods where still mostly unreadable, even to her. But she knew how much he loved a good fight! And just then, aroused as she was, she felt like making him work for it.
She simultaneously kneed him in the inner thigh, punched him in the kidney, and pushed against his chest with as much force as the cramped embrace would allow. One of these action alone would not have been enough to move the the solidly built man, but in combination it left him fighting to keep his balance. He looked so awkward flailing to steady himself and wincing from the sharp, unexpected pain that she couldn't stifle the giggles irrupting from her kiss swollen lips.
Klaue recover himself swiftly, and she squealed as he lunged towards her. Just missing the grab, she felt the biting caress of his nails scrape along her arm. She fell to her ass, and waisted no time scooting backwards. With his momentary pause to realize he hadn't caught her, she was able to get her feet under her. Springing up into a full run she raced to put the expanse of his desk between them. She was giggling again, though honestly she hadn't hardly stopped. His face was red, and the predatory baring of his teeth would have had the bravest of men wetting themselves.
"Kitten," he rumbled in warning, "I'll make you regret that." She chocked on her giggles when he vaulted to the top of the desk, and she found herself without an exist. She glanced quickly around, prey frantic to escape. He took a moment too long to gloat though, and her quick witted mind had her diving beneath the desk just as he committed himself to jumping down. He barely missed stomping on her, and was again temporarily disoriented as he glanced first down, then over his shoulder to see her sliding out the other side of the desk. She rolled and come back up to her feet, giggling again with a triumphant smile on her face, only to go down in a heap as he slammed into her back.
Now pinned on her stomach beneath him, panting heavily, she took a quick moment to contemplate just how upset he'd be if she smashed his face with the back of her head. But his robotic hand came down on her head, pushing her face into the thick carpet and she knew the brief scuffle was over. Still she giggled. Then he pulled her head back, arching her painfully and the giggles stopped.
"I'll gag you kitten!" He warned, his breath hot on her ear, voice husky and deep. She gulped to catch her breath in the contorted position and squeaked out something that could have been apologetic. He knew her well enough though to know that it was likely meant to be provoking. He was grinning as he hauled her up by her hair, her hands coming up to grip his wrist the moment her arms where freed. He released her hair and grabbed both of her wrists in one broad hand. He was just an inch taller than her, but his arms where longer. His used the length to force her up onto her toes as he raised her arms higher than was comfortable.
"I'll be good" she winced, "I promise" he slapped her with his real hand. That's how she knew he was still playing, he'd slapped her plenty when they were being rough, but never once with his robotic hand. He wanted to cause her pain, to hurt her in the most sharply pleasurable ways he could. And with a devious imagination like his he could hurt her in seemly endless ways. But he would never injure her.
He tsked at her, waving his finger from side to side before her face. "Now kitten," he gruffed deeply, knowing how the rumble made her sex wet and her knees weak. "You've forgotten something" she bit her lip in frustration. Well she had started this, and it seemed he was in the mood after all.
"Sir" she bite out, much like a sulking child might when caught being naughty. "I'll be good now Sir" he slapped her again, then before she could register he let her arms go, and lifted her up over his shoulder. He planted a resounding slap on her ass and she winced even as she smiled. He dumped her on the ground beside his desk and swept the papers and other disarrayed items to the floor. Then grabbed her by the hair again and lifted her up to her feet. Holding his grip tightly against her scalp he rumbled out the order for her to drop her pants. She did, wincing while somehow also holding a smile upon her lips. He spun her then and forced her down onto the desktop. He pressed the side of her face so firmly into the wood grain that she closed her eyes involuntarily. But they sprang open again when the first slap landed on her naked flank. She never wore underwear because she knew it maddened him.
"Brat!" He husked as he began landing one heavy slap after another on her ample bum. She panted, sighed, giggled, and gasped as he varied his blows. Unable to relax as he smartly avoided any kind of pattern she was soon pleading and squirming, the dampness of her arousal slick upon her thighs.
"Please Sir, please!" She chanted breathlessly like a mantra. Now he was the one laughing, the dark chuckles striking her senses as soundly as his palm upon her flesh. She started to make a sound like a mixture of panting and chocking, her body went ridged, then lax in quick spasms and she screamed "please my I cum" through gritted teeth.
"Yes," he commanded in a primal snarl, sliding his hand as he spoke between her slick thighs to plunge three thick, calloused fingers deep into her spasming sex. She cried out and road his hand as her orgasm ripped through her body, tearing her thoughts to splinters and leaving her limbs jelly in its aftermath.
Her body was pliant as he kicked her feet apart and positioned himself between her legs. She heard, as if from a distance, as his buckle clinked open and his pants fell with a heavy thud to the thickly carpeted floor. She came back to herself instantly when he thrust to the hilt inside of her. The tickle of his pubic hair on her sensitive ass was too much for her shattered senses, and she struggled beneath him. He fell on top of her, his heavy body pinning her to the hard desktop. He moved inside of her and she was so overcome with sensation that she writhed beneath him, a primal thing, thrashing and snapping her teeth. He laughed full bodied from deep inside his chest, and snaked his real arm around in front of her. He forced his thickly muscled forearm between her gnashing jaws and grew harder inside of her as she buried her teeth in his flesh.
Like a wild beast dominating a female in heat he fucked her into the desk. His laughs turned to grunts and he felt himself grow taunt, the sweet pull in his balls making him gasp and growl as the tightness finally snapped. His vision splashed first white then spotted over in blackness. He came fully back to his senses sprawled on the floor in a tangled heap of limbs and bruised, sweaty flesh.
She was clutching him and panting, shaking from her own release. He wrapped his arms around her, and she clung to his tattooed limbs as if to a life raft. "Well done kitten" he panted into her ear, the salty sweat in her hair stinging his parched lips. "Such a good kitten you are" he praised.