Untameable (BWWM)

Same Night (Ruby Jean's POV)

Grant's hands slid up and down the length of my neck with his damaged fingers threatening a squeeze. He was trying his damnedest to intimidate me. It worked when I first showed up. Especially with how hurt he looked and it made me feel a guilty although I maintain I did nothing wrong. In the end, I knew this man wouldn't actually do anything. What could he?

"...You're drunk and it's gross," I said to him with a roll of my eyes. He couldn't see how much I didn't take his threats seriously but my tone and body language was sure to tell it.

"Nah. I ain't drunk, Mama," I heard him chuckle above me. "Kinda wish I was though. It'd make what I'm about to do a whole lot easier. Take off your clothes."

Excuse me? I turned to glare at him. What I had assumed to be a joke, was evidently not one.

Grant was mad. His jaw clenched into a square shape and I may have actually heard his teeth grit. His face had changed almost completely. I knew it was him, but in the same, he was unrecognisable. Just barely familiar. I have never seen him this angry before and truth be told, I was beginning to worry. In this state, who knows what he would be capable of?

"You heard me, Mrs. Augustus. Clothes. Off. Right now."

His command was very demanding and I  found it rather attractive that despite his apparent rage, he still wanted me. Silently, I rose from my seat and stood before him. We were very close. Chest to chest, almost. I watched him closely as he watched me. His eyes were red. From the alcohol? Who's to tell? He was mostly composed for a drunk.

Take off my clothes? "No."

That sent him over the edge. Grant's eyes flashed a darker shade of blue as he tried to reach for me but I dodged him to make for the door. Unfortunately, he was quicker than me and grabbed both of my arms. His grip on me was harsh but not painful as I struggled in his arms to no avail.

"Let go of me, Grant!" I shouted, which apparently fell on deaf ears. "You son of a mother fucking asshole!"

He ignored me and continued to handle me like a cheap sex doll. Grant turned me to face the dining room table and forced my chest to lay uncomfortably on its solid surface. "Keep resisting, baby. Y'know it only turns me on more."

"Damn perv! You're a fucking maniac!" I could call him all types of names but that wouldn't change how my body responded to Grant's dominance. Any time he gets rough with me like this, my arousal instantly heats up. A mini pond began to saturate my undies as he pressed his erection against my back side.

With one hand cuffing my wrists, he was able to hike my dress up my thighs with the other and snatch my lace boxers down to my ankle. "Get 'em off," he demanded with a slap to my ass. "And don't make me repeat myself."

I obeyed him and kicked the thin material to the side. "Grant—"

"Shut the fuck up," he sneered.

A loud moan struck the quiet room when a second slap landed on my ass cheek. The sharp sting was rubbed away by Grant's light caresses. His fingers ran the length of my exposed vaginal folds. I was embarrassed by how wet I was already. He hadn't done anything at all yet my pussy felt otherwise.

Grant and I hadn't made love since Atlanta and these three weeks have been hell on earth for me. I've wanted this man so bad but I've been so mad, I hardly even wanted him touching me.

Now I'm craving it. Demanding it, almost. I wished then, more than ever before, that G would shove two of his thick digits into my snatch and finger fuck me til I could no longer stand.