Spinning her around, my arms encircled her tiny frame, holding her back against me tightly, her rear nestled into my groin, needing to stop her struggle. But once again, her fist reached up and curved just enough to pop me in the jaw. And with the angle of her tightly-clenched fist… shit, it hurt.

Fighting past the stars blanketing my eyes, I roared, “Enough! What did I tell you would happen if you hit me? I warned you! I fucking warned you! Did you listen to me? Did my warnings have no effect on your stupid ass?”

I needed to break her wild spirit. I would not tolerate. I would not allow. I would not let her win this battle of wills. I would come out the victor, and she would not like how I did it.

Without waiting for an answer, I threw her body over the edge of the bed, pinning her flailing hands behind her lower back, and securing her kicking legs with mine. In one swift motion, I lowered her pants as I had done before, revealing her still pink backside from the earlier spanking. But no spanking would happen this time. That was child’s play. No, not this time. She needed more. That much was clear. Now was the time for a reckoning she wouldn’t soon forget.

Reaching up, I grabbed her hair again, giving it a tug so that Anita cried out in pain. Yet, I also heard something else. Desire? Hunger? Unleashed passion? Yes, I could hear it laced alongside her delicate mewl. I could feel it.

She wanted me to release her. She wanted me to hurt her. She wanted two things, and her core so full of madness, was battling it out. I pulled on her hair again, listening closely as she released the same noise as before.

I almost paused for a moment at the sound of her discomfort… almost, but I was an asshole.

I liked it. I craved it. I wanted to hear more of it. I loved the sound of her cries. My cock hardened with each whimper and gasp. It throbbed with every hitch of her breath. Lucky for her, I couldn’t see her face. If I saw tears… if I saw tears, I would be undone.

I needed to teach this woman that she couldn’t behave like this and not expect ramifications. Not just with me, but if she continued in this fashion toward any other man—especially in the world of Spiked Roses—what I did, and planned to do, would be minor in comparison to what others would do to her. You can’t rattle the cage of the beast and not expect to unleash the fury. This was for her own good. She needed to learn how to, at the very least, fake submission, and if I had to fuck her raw to get that harsh concept through her willful head, I would.

“Please,” she pleaded as I removed her pants completely with my feet, spreading her legs widely and settling myself between them. “Please!”

Was she begging for me to stop? Or was she begging for me to continue?

It was a fine daggered line between consensual and non-consent, but I was willing to be cut by the blade.

Her body bucked as I tugged on her hair some more. I released her hands and took delight as she seized hold of the bedspread over her head and clutched the fabric between her fisted palms. She had given up the physical fight. The first sign of submission fueled my lust for her even more.

My cock ran along the seam of her ass, and it took every ounce of control I had to not just jam it inside her dry—tearing her as I did so. I was a bastard, but I wasn’t a monster, so I took hold of my dick and guided it to the folds of her sex. She was wet. So fucking wet, as I knew she’d be. Yes, this dirty girl liked it rough. Her secret divulged. I had cracked her sexual code. That knowledge gave me the power. She was mine. All mine to fuck and abuse as I wanted. And the harder I was on her, the more power I would have over her. She was a delicate flower who desired the thorn… I truly saw that now. How true those words were.

“Your cunt is wet. You want me,” I said as I bathed my cock in her arousal.

“No, I don’t,” she panted, but squeezed the bedspread even tighter. Her white knuckles exposed how she struggled for control.

“Yes, you do. I can see it. I can feel it. I can smell it.”

“I hate you,” she said but never once tried to move her pussy away from my jabbing cock.

“Good,” I said. “You are about to hate me more.”

I gave a harder tug on her hair, pulling her head back in order to place my palm at the front of her neck and hold firmly. I wanted her to know I could take her life at any moment I chose, just as I could take her body.

“Fuck you,” she said. The vile words were breathless.

“Say it again.” I squeezed her throat tighter.

“Fuck you.”

“Say it one more time so I can be sure I heard your words correctly.”

She paused, swallowing hard against my palm. “Fuck you,” she said in almost a whisper.

I placed the head of my dick at the opening of her pussy, fighting every urge to bury myself balls deep. “Do you want me to fuck this pussy of yours?”

She shook her head. “No! I fucking hate you!”

I smiled, liking that she answered correctly. “Very well. The choice was yours. I told you that if you ever said those words to me again, I would fuck you. So, since you don’t want me to fuck your pussy, I will fuck your ass.”

I took hold of my slick cock, placed it at the entrance of her puckered hole, and slowly eased in, breaking the surface slightly. I had stretched her anus less than an hour earlier, but I knew this was still going to hurt. Yet, by the delicious moan that escaped her lips, she knew that as well… and wanted it. She wanted the biting pain in her ass. Luckily, her wetness coated on my cock helped ease my way in, and I would go slow, but this was still going to hurt like hell.

She cried out as I eased my way in deeper, but she didn’t scream for me to stop. I wasn’t going to go light on her—there was no way of doing so with my size—and a twinge of sympathy on my conscience had me pause so she could catch her breath and allow her tight little hole to get used to the stretching.

“Have you ever had your ass fucked?”

She shook her head and tightened her grip on the bedspread.

“Well then, I’m going to have great pleasure in being the first to fuck this ass of yours.” I think that fact was pretty obvious, but I still wanted her to hear the words from my mouth. A virgin ass. There was something special about an anal virgin. They cried more. They tightened more. But they also wanted it more. Their curiosity made it so.

She didn’t reply, but she never resisted or put up a fight like I had really expected her to do. I had a lesson to teach her.

I plunged my dick in all the way. I could no longer hold back. I had to have her ass. I had to make it mine. She cried out, which made me want even more. I began thrusting in and out, driven by her whimpers of pain and pleasure. She bucked against me, silently demanding for me to go deeper with each push. The harder I was, the more she demanded.

In and out, moan after moan, her ass was mine. She was fucking mine.

And just as my control was wavering, and I was about to explode, Anita turned her head and made eye contact with me. Her eyes. I was undone.

With one final thrust, I spilled my seed inside of her, claiming her as mine, just as she had claimed me as hers with that one look in her eyes. I became her captive. Motherfucker, I became her captive.