Playing Hard To Get (Van McCann)

Part 10

You're half expecting him to burst through the door behind you as soon as you enter but he doesn't. Nevertheless you're still on edge as you take out towels that have been drying and fold them carefully, your eyes darting to the door every now and again. Maybe he's just biding his time, or maybe he's not as desperate for you as you thought. You try to ignore the disappointment that descends on you at this notion, crossing over to the washing machine and kneeling down to load the washing into the drum.

That's when you hear the door creak open, and you look up, startled. Van casually strolls in and saunters over to you, and you try to just carry on with what you're doing, pretending the effect he has on you is that insignificant that you've barely noticed his presence.

Of course that's easier said than done. He comes to a stop right in front of you, and you're on a level with his hips. Gosh those jeans really are tight. You can't get the imagine of him naked in the shower out of your mind.

"Want to tell me what you were up to in the bathroom this morning then?" He says finally, and when you look up he has a smug kind of grin on his face.

You immediately blush. "Look I'm really sorry about earlier. I didn't know you were in there."

Van laughs like you've just told the funniest joke he's ever heard, causing your cheeks to redden even more. He's not buying it and you can't really blame him.

"You're not a very good liar," he states.

It's true. You're a terrible liar. There's no point even trying to convince him otherwise.

"I don't tolerate liars," he says. "So let's try again shall we? Do you like to watch me getting off then, huh?"

This statement only furthers your humiliation. "No... of course I don't... I just..."

Van looks down on you with his eyebrows raised and you trail off.

He sighs. "What are we gonna do about those lies coming out of that mouth of yours, hey?"

You feel uncomfortable under his unrelenting gaze, looking up at him, chewing on your bottom lip, nervous.

"I love that look you get," he smirks. "You look kind of innocent... but me and you both know that's not the case, right?"

He shakes his head slowly, he wasn't waiting for an answer. "You know it makes me want to pin you up against the wall and fuck you just like the dirty little slut you are."

His eyes are locked on yours and you know he's waiting for a reaction. The feminist in you should be outraged but instead this filthy talk is just making you even hotter.

You decide to play along, giving him that wide-eyed little girl lost look that you know drives him crazy, feigning a purity that you both know is very far from the real you.

"Why don't you then?" You say boldly, your heart hammering in your chest, your throat dry.

His eyes are blazing now. "I think maybe I've been too good to you. You're starting to forget your manners. You know you have to ask nicely when you want something."

He suddenly reaches out and grabs a handful of your hair which he winds tightly around his fist, forcing your head back slightly, giving you no choice but to look up at him. It smarts a little, but as you're starting to realise amid your shame, his forcefulness actually heightens your desire. And right now you're so aroused you can practically feel your body throbbing for him. Especially when his other hand goes to the button on his jeans and he unfastens the top one, slowly, his eyes not leaving yours.

"So what do you say, huh?" He opens another button.

The realisation that he actually wants YOU to plead with HIM for permission to pleasure HIM sends an entirely unexpected thrill through you. This degradation only fuels your need all the more. What's wrong with you?