#mentalgames

Joe leaned against the doorframe, his eyes lingering on you as you sat at your desk, surrounded by books and notes. You could feel his gaze, intense and predatory, sending a shiver down your spine. He stepped into the room, his presence dominating the space, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and fear.

"You're late," he said, his voice a low growl. "I don't like to be kept waiting."

You stood up, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm sorry, Joe. I got caught up in my work."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Work can wait. I can't."

He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You leaned into his touch, despite the warning bells ringing in your head. He was dangerous, you knew that, but there was something thrilling about the edge of risk.

"I want you to understand something," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I desire you. But I also want to break you. I want to see you shatter and then put you back together, piece by piece."

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "Why?"

He smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. "Because it's fun. Because I can. Because you intrigue me."

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he explored your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. He tasted like danger and desire, a intoxicating mix that made your head spin.

He pulled away, his breath ragged. "But you have to earn it. You have to earn my desire, my attention, my punishment."

He stepped back, his eyes roaming over your body, assessing and calculating. "Take off your clothes. Slowly."

You hesitated for a moment, then began to comply, your fingers trembling as you unbuttoned your blouse. He watched, his expression unreadable, as you slipped it off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Your skirt followed, pooling at your feet, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

"Turn around," he commanded.

You did, your heart hammering in your chest as you presented your back to him. He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours, his hands resting on your hips. You could feel his hardness against your back, and it sent a wave of heat through your body.

"You're mine to punish," he whispered, his lips against your ear. "Mine to break."

His hands moved to your bra, unhooking it with a deftness that belied his size. It fell to the floor, and you were left exposed, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath. He cupped them, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

"Please," you whispered, not sure what you were begging for.

He chuckled, a low, dark sound. "Please what? Please stop? Please continue? Be specific."

"Please... touch me," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

He pinched your nipples, hard enough to make you gasp. "Like this?"

You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed as he continued to tease and torment your sensitive flesh. He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, marking you as his. You could feel the wetness between your legs, your body aching for his touch.

He spun you around, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you effortlessly onto the desk. You scooted back, making room for him as he stepped between your legs, his eyes locked on yours. He hooked his fingers into your panties, pulling them off in one swift motion.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your naked body. "Absolutely beautiful."

He leaned down, his tongue tracing a path from your knee, up your inner thigh, making you squirm with anticipation. He blew a stream of cool air on your wet folds, and you shuddered, your hands gripping the edge of the desk for support.

"Joe, please," you begged, your voice hoarse with need.

He smiled, a wicked, knowing smile. "Please what? Please lick you? Please fuck you? Use your words."

"Please lick me," you whispered, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and desire.

He obliged, his tongue delving into your folds, tasting you, exploring you. You cried out, your back arching off the desk as he brought you to the brink of orgasm with his skilled tongue. Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away, leaving you gasping and wanting.

"Joe," you protested, your body aching with need.

He stood up, his hands going to his belt. "I want to hear you scream my name. I want to feel you shatter around me."

He unzipped his pants, his cock springing free, hard and ready. He stroked himself, his eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, filling you completely. You moaned, your head falling back as he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours in a relentless rhythm.

He reached up, his hand wrapping around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "You're mine," he growled. "Say it."

"I-I'm yours," you repeated, your voice a breathless whisper.

He smiled, a dark, satisfied smile. "Good girl."

He increased his pace, his body slamming into yours, the desk shaking with the force of his thrusts. You could feel your orgasm building, a coiling tension in your core that threatened to explode. He leaned down, his teeth capturing your nipple, biting down just hard enough to send you over the edge.

You screamed his name, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. He followed soon after, his own release tearing through him, your name a growl on his lips.

He collapsed on top of you, his body slick with sweat, his breath ragged. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, your heart pounding in your chest. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, a soft, almost tender expression on his face.

"Mine," he whispered, before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.