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Caught Like A Fly

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He was dragging her into his office. Lindsay cursed to herself, that she'd been caught so close to her goal. He was dragging her to his desk, pistol still clearly out. The wound still smarting on her temple attested to that- blood dribbled down her face. He’d caught her snooping in another office, because she’d been told that was the correct one. Somebody had obviously been feeding them false information; purposely or not, Lindsay didn’t care.

She cared that she had gotten caught. 

When he sat down and forced her to kneel between his legs while he sat in his plush leather chair, Lindsay felt disgust fizzle in her belly. She knew he had a thing for her; he’d always made it evident in their past encounters. No matter what, though, she reviled him and cursed his very existence. She could see it in his eyes, the desire that burned for her and the desire to make her his . Lindsay would go down like a devilishly stubborn mustang: which was to say, never. 

"Now, now, Agent Lawrence. Do what I tell you and you just might get out alive."

Lindsay scowled at this beast of a man. 

"And how do I know you'll keep that promise?"

This time, his eyes and smile were full of malice. Spoke to her that, really, she couldn’t trust him; but then again, who had the gun and no head injury? His silence was all she needed for an answer. Whether she wanted to or not wasn’t pertinent to James Bradford, because he was going to get what he wanted either way and then he’d take more and more and more

He’d take until she drowned in him. 

“Unzip me, Lawrence.”

Lindsay bit back that he was a fifty year old man who had a free hand. Her head still remembered and felt the pain of the pistol, even when her tongue wanted to forget. So, reluctantly, she unzipped his pants and even undid the buttons for him for which she was rewarded a pleased hum. 

Lindsay could feel the hand with the gun on her head, petting her tenderly. Disgusting. Wracked with the awful idea that he fantasized about this, Lindsay glared up at him. Slowly, like a snake ready to strike, he pulled his cock out. Of course he was already half-hard. 

“Good girl. I’m sure you know what to do or…” 

He pressed the gun even more into her bloody temple. Her migraine rocketed, but Lindsay grunted and leaned forward. The heat from his body pooled over her, making her entire body flush from anger, heat, pain and overexertion. Hadn’t Jan said this would be an easy mission because Bradford or his spawn weren’t supposed to be home?

When she got the fuck out of here, Lindsay would be letting Jan know how she felt about shit he said was supposed to be true. 

Lindsay slowly took him into her mouth, trying her hardest to not gag. Slowly, roughly, his fingers dug themselves into her scalp and dragged her down. Everything about this was a slow torture. Especially when she’d taken him fully, after fumbling around and gagging and drooling all over him, he stroked her face with his gun. He’d even dig his thumb down onto her bruised temple to force her to open her eyes when they’d closed. 

The only upside was that he was steadily losing his composure. Even the gun had fallen to the wayside, up on the desk of course. Both of his hands earnestly dug into her hair, pulling her down and down. Lindsay struggled to breathe, especially when he held her down.

Then, suddenly, he pulls out. Lindsay closes her eyes in time as he cums all over her face. It nearly makes her gag. 

He's not quite done yet. Suddenly, she's being heaved up and flopped onto her belly on his desk. She nearly makes a scramble for it when-

Lindsay hears his gun cock behind her. 

"Ms. Lawrence, we talked about this… now behave or you'll be nursing a bullet ridden knee."

So, for what feels like the fifth time tonight, Lindsay begrudgingly gives in. She hears him taking off his belt, watches in contempt as he ties her front arms with his tie and feels him pulling her pants and panties down. 

He hums. 

"Not wet?"

Lindsay tries to keep the sneer in her voice down. 

"Not really; being forced to give a blowjob isn't what I consider foreplay."

James has the audacity to chuckle. And then she felt his fingers in her, thick and filling in a way she didn't want. He played with her like he'd had practice far too many times before. Lindsay bit into the tie, trying to mask her moan of pleasure and anger. And this was all with two of his fingers. Her feet didn't even touch the ground, forcing her to kneel on his thighs. 

He chuckled again when he began to finger her with three fingers. Lindsay tightened up, feeling her orgasm coming quickly. She arched her back until -

"No cumming for bad girls! At least with my fingers…" 

Lindsay fumed in anger but suppressed it when he pulled her onto his lap, facing away. His lips bit at her neck as he angled his cock to enter her. His hands were on her hips; she may technically be on top, but he was holding all the power here. 

When he finally entered her, he bit down harshly. That finally drew out a shocked grasp and James laughed . Wasting no time, he picked up a brutal pace. Between his own pleasured moans and Lindsay's clenched teeth grunts, he spoke to her.

You love this just as much as I do… 

I'll make you love it even more… 

My little slut, I've dreamt of this for so fucking long… 

You're mine now…

Lindsay wished her hands weren't tied, otherwise she'd be strangling him. Though, right now, she was hurtling towards an orgasm. Her breath was picking up, hitching in her throat and James definitely noticed. One of his hands trailed up to her nipples, pinching it through her shirt. At her little gasp, James played with her tit even more, panting into her ear. 

She was cumming in seconds. And he wasn't far behind at all, though this time he made sure to press himself deep into her. If she was in clearer minds, then Lindsay would despair more.

Instead, she bowed her head and heaved in gulps of air. James stayed in her until he grew soft, to which he placed her back on the desk and tidied himself back up. Then, he rifled through his desk, humming to himself quietly. Lindsay was too tired, the sting on her neck and thighs still smarting. 

"Hm, I think you should rest, Agent Lawrence…"

Lindsay felt a sharp sting in her neck that definitely wasn't the bite mark. Desperation clawed at her gut, trying to stay awake as dark tendrils of unconsciousness pulled her away. 

"I'll be sure to have more fun with you when you awake, Agent…"