The Challenge_(2)

Though she tries to pull away, he draws her close until he can lightly brush the tip of her ear with his lips. Nibbling down the outer edge of her ear he reaches her earlobe and kisses it firmly. Then, he sucks the lobe between his teeth which grasp it firmly and uses his tongue to play with it further. Licking and moving her earlobe he holds her tightly enough to feel her heart beat and listen to her breathing even through the clothing they both wear. When she is sufficiently aroused his mouth releases her and, speaking so quietly that his lip brush the whorls of her ear says, “Are you ready?”

Shaking her head free of his mouth she tries to struggle free, but, smiling, he proceeds to push her to a position face-up on the floor. With one hand he makes sure to grip her wrists tightly enough that she can’t escape. Then he turned his attention to the ear he had so far neglected. With delicate kisses, licks, and nibbles he devoted himself to all aspects of that ear, his light breathing filtering deep into her ear canal as his tongue stroked its whorls and his teeth and lips kissed and gripped its outer edges and lobe. Meanwhile his free hand rises to touch her other ear. She felt the light, ticklish touch as it traced the contours of her ear and then proceeded to touch more firmly. Distracted, she shivered, and the hand at her ear gripped it firmly and she felt its nails, not yet pinching, but more than able to.

With his hand gripping her ear his lips traced down the line of her jaw to where the pulse beat in her throat. Stopping just before he reached that point he moved back to her ear to speak in a hushed tenor. “What do you have to say now?”

Breathing heavily, both from the exertion and excitement, she growls back, “You’ll never get me to admit you won.” She tries to get her hands free, but feels the nails at her ear starting to pinch slowly.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” he asks.

She is still for a moment, trying to hatch a new game plan when she feels his tongue at her ear. The sensation shoots straight through her body making her muscles go loose and weak. “Am I sure I don’t want to change my mind?” she thinks to herself. She closes her eyes and enjoys the conflicting sensations assaulting her body, pain on one side and pleasure on the other.

“Nnn. What do I get if you win?” she moans.

“More,” he murmurs in her ear. Then he plants a lingering series of kisses on her ear and down her jaw before lingering lovingly over the pulse beat in her throat, but also violently enough that she knows there will be a mark there tomorrow.

“A chance,” he says as he moves to straddle her body so she can feel the hardness of his passion against her stomach. Held captive by his weight her hands are released so that he can use the both of his to gently caress her ears and hold her head so he can look down on her face. Then he brings his head down.

“Knowledge,” he says, “of what it’s like to be a trophy.” Then his hands grip firmly as his mouth takes possession of hers. Strong fingers caress her ears as his tongue and lips dance with her own.

With her hands free, she begins to slide them down his body, featherlight brushes that run down his spine. Reaching his trousers she rubs his hardness from the outside while unfastening them with the other. Then her hands gently reach inside and she grabs him and squeezes, “did you really think it was going to be that easy?” she whispers to him.

Closing her fist tighter and tighter, she rolls over him over so that she is in the victory position. “You know its going to take more than that for me to concede” she tells him. She leans over and runs her tongue down his neck, “it’s my turn to mark my territory” she whispers in his ear.

He grins up a her, not all startled by their sudden reversal. Pleased, in fact, with her strength and determination.

He chuckles and his hands slide down to the back of her neck. “You overlook,” he says, gripping the collar of her silky, filmy blouse, “that some things are easier when a person doesn’t have her back on the floor.” With a violence and strength that freeze her in surprise his hands tear the collar on her blouse and move across her shoulders and down her arms. Buttons fly from the front of the blouse as its back tears and its front pieces part ways. Fingers catch neatly in the bra straps over her shoulders, nails scratching lightly in passing, and as his hands continued their forceful passage down her body her bra is stripped from her breasts, revealing them to the open air and to his gaze.

His hands stopped just below her elbows, leaving her arms entangled in the silk-strong ruins of her blouse and bra.