Chapter Five

Excitement raced through his body as, in one swift move, he grabbed both of her wrists that were in front of her and yanked her down, her back smacking the desk with a loud-ish BANG. Moving to the desk in one swift step, he jabbed his lower pelvic area into hers. Bending her elbows, he pulled her closer and whispered into her ears, "It is taking a lot for me not to hurt you. You're right, I would have done it already. The only problem is: if I do what I would like to do, you wouldn't be able to walk for weeks. I want to see you strut your stuff and I can do exactly that. All I have to do is give you a little liquor," he smirked, laughter dancing in his eyes. She suddenly remembered that a few hours earlier, she was slightly drunk and let him know what kind of girl she was. Her heart jumped in her chest and she could feel the blood rushing to her face.

"It was laced with something I put in it," she said, trying to pull herself away. Chuckling, he tightened his grip and pulled her even closer, dragging a warm, moist tongue along her jawline. A surprised gasp escaped from her lips and she arched her back up slightly. The gentleness made her think a very naughty thing.

"Which was what?" he said, in between the soft kisses he started placing from her collarbone to her earlobe. Before she could tell him it was a pain-killer, he bit her ear hungrily. A tiny moan sounded out. "What did you say, dumplin'?"

"I… said… painkiller," she huffed out, trying her hardest not to call him 'sir'. Why? She didn't know.

"Why? What hurts, baby? Is it here?" he started, slowly massaging her breasts with the hand used to unclasp her bra, which she didn't know was open. Shaking her head, she bit her bottom lip in an attempt to not moan.

Then he asked her, "Is it here?" he asked, gently sliding his hand to the front of her neck and slowly wrapping his fingers around it, squeezing lightly. She felt a rush of blood go through her body and wrapped her legs around him as he savored the heat he felt from between her short legs. Liking the reaction, he squeezed a little harder, taking to mind when she looked like she wasn't breathing as well as before.

"Or is it here?" he said, letting go of her arms and grabbing her ass and sliding his hands up the back of her legs. When he didn't get a reaction, he pushed her legs to her stomach with the force and speed of a moving train. A small yelp came from her lips and she regretted it because his normal sociopathic smile stretched a little further as he placed his index finger on her ankles and pushed them down to the sides of her hips, his ears being awarded a louder yelp. The smile turned into a grin of satisfaction. "Who are you so flexible for, huh? Who is the lucky bastard?"

Emilia was scared to answer at first because he looked pissed but answered anyway. "No one."

"No, you can tell me. I won't hurt them," he mumbled loud enough for her to hear but low enough to show how upset he was.

"It's no one-"

"You're a stripper as well, right?" he said, immediately changing the subject.

"I-I used to be but not anymore. And the term is pole-dancer, not stripper. Why ask, sir?" she said, not realizing what she said until she said it. Fear latched himself onto her chest as a look appeared in his eyes. Not saying anything about it, he gently grabbed her shoulders and eased her up, allowing her legs to come down as well.

"Follow me," he smiled, helping her up. "Leave your shoes, you won't need them." Confused and oddly horny, she followed him to his car, where he opened the door for her.

"Will I regret any of this?" she asked, unsure of whether or not she should trust him. Something in her said have your doubts, but trust him. She couldn't tell if that was her strawberry half or her subconscious.

"No," he simply answered, helping her stiff legs bend so she could get in. He walked over to his side and pressed the 'start the engine' button. "You won't at all."