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He sat in his car eager himself to stay. Just call her. Honk for god sakes. Do not go up there. You can’t go up there.

Besides, why did he want to? He was angry with her. She’d embarrassed herself and she’d embarrassed him. He was not getting out of this car. Let her walk down here.

But before he knew it, his legs were walking up the stairs to her apartment and his fist was banging on her door.

She opened the door looking, he assumed, as terrible as she felt. There was make up under her eyes and her blonde hair was everywhere. He could tell she’d been crying and when he saw her pouty mouth, he almost lost all his anger with her.

She was wearing pajama pants and old concert t-shirt. Oh shit, that was his t shirt. He could see the outline of her breasts under the threadbare cotton and he had to close his eyes or he was gonna be in real trouble.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you,”she whispered.

If she cried there was no way he was getting out of this apartment without comforting her, and he WAS mad at her dammit.

He slammed her door closed.

“Fuck yes, I’m mad at you. Why would you act like that?”

He closed the distance between them so quickly, she had no where to go before he’d backed her into the wall.

“You should be punished,” he growled.

Her green eyes flicked up at him and he saw it then, she knew he wanted her.

She nodded and bit her lower lip.

In one move he pulled her shirt (his shirt) up over her head, pinning her hands together in one hand while his other hand closed around her throat.

“Do you think I’m joking? Im going to punish you.”

There was a glint in her eyes now. “Go ahead and try.”

He gently squeezed her neck as he mashed his mouth onto hers. She kissed him back instantly, her knees buckling.

He pressed a leg between her thighs to hold her up, and he could feel the heat of her.

Jesus he had to have her.

He released her from the wall, as she stood gasping.

He was gonna make her beg.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologize,” he snarled back. “I don’t want to hear it.”

His anger flared again as he wondered of her behavior the night before.

He was gonna show her how she could be sorry.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around so her back was pressed to him. He shoved his hand down the front of her pajamas, finding her wet and open already.

“Do you want to be fucked?” he asked her. “Should naughty girls get fucked?”

Please she whispered. Please.

He walked her forward to the couch, bending her over the back.

He pulled her pants down and pushed himself against her.

Please she begged. Please.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you. If I fucked you right here.”

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock, teasing her by rubbing himself up and down her slit.

She tried to reach back, to grab him, to guide him inside her.

He grabbed her wrist, “You are not in charge here. Bad girls don’t get to be in charge.”

He knelt down and pressed his face into her depths. She tasted as sweet as he remembered.

She cried out as his tongue slipped inside her.

He brought her to the brink with his mouth before backing off.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged.

Her turned her around and kissed her, knowing how she’d at all times loved to taste herself on him.

His resolve to punish her was waning. What he really wanted to do was lay her down and make love to her, but he knew if he did that they’d never stop. And they were over. He wasn’t hers anymore.

“You’re a slut aren’t you,” he told her. “How do sluts get fucked?”

Against the wall? On the kitchen counter? On the balcony so all her neighbors could see what a dirty slut she was? He wished he could fuck her in every corner of this apartment.

“They get fucked hard,” she answered him. “Can you do that?”

She’d at all times been mouthy.

With one move he had her down on the ground, pinning her arms above her head as he drove inside her. He moved hard and fast. She wrapped her legs around his back pushing him deeper inside her.

“I fucking hate you,” she cried out as her powerful orgasm shook through her.

She squeezed her pussy around him, because she knew the afterthrobs of her coming at all times finished him off.

He pulled out just before he came, spilling himself over her stomach and her breasts.

He laid down next to her and they turned on their sides to look at one another.

“I really am sorry,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“Me too,” he replied. He kissed her soft lips knowing it would be the last time. He brushed the tears from her cheeks and pulled her close.

Enough, he wondered. This would have to be enough.

NSFW: yes

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