Resist?

His hands grazed gently across her lines, heat radiating, seeping through her skin, searing her bones.

She felt as though a slave to him, once his hands laid upon her she could no longer pretend she was disgusted with him.

Lord knows she tried to resist, but her whole image, her being, weakened to the strum of his fingertips.

She tried to show him distaste, like her body for him didn't crave. She tried to avoid eye contact, tried to avoid his emerald gaze. For once his eyes pierced the surface of her baby blues, she became his rag doll, something for him to use.

He knew his power over her and used it to his advantage. Playing his demonic game of if you dare, until she subdued into the palms of his hands, as if cast into a prison, the warden calls and she whimpers.

Something drew her to him, kept her clinging to him, as if letting go would be her demise. She knows it isn't right, these feelings she gets with him, but he, her, them, they want what they want, like what they like and so she lingers, her breasts rising to his lips, her skin burning under the heat radiating from his fingertips.

She can never resist, Though she is not...still she is...every bit...his!