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It's so hard to find good help (dominant_minded X Nurse_K)

He groaned lightly into her mouth as she kissed him. He could feel himself starting to get aroused again in spite of himself. "What are you... doing to... me?" he said chuckling, trying to speak around her lips. Once she finally vacated his lap and stopped trying to fan new flames in him, Nick buckled his seatbelt but left his shirt off. "I make no promises there, you crazy tease," he said, feeling incredibly playful. He looked around to find his sunglasses, having lost track of some of his personal articles in the midst of the throes of passion they'd both just experienced. He found his eyes constantly tracking over to the driver's seat to run appreciatively and approvingly over her body. It struck him how much more sexually aggressive she was acting today, which, of course, he absolutely loved. "I think it's safe to say you're coming out of your shell, Elsy," he said with a large grin, slipping on his blue-lensed sunglasses.
 
She buckled her seatbelt as well and turned on the car. She turned and grinned at him before moving the car, considering what he'd said. She was coming out of her shell. He was absolutely right, a month ago she'd have never had car-sex. A month ago she probably wouldn't have been very open to sex in the first place, she'd been feeling very centrist and was on a man-hating rant. But now she had a man that she absolutely adored in every way. She adored his body, his mind, his personality, his everything. Her cheeks flushed a little, "Hmm...maybe a little. You're not going to get me to run naked on the beach though." and then she turned her head and backed out of the parking space. "Where are we going? Home to swim?"
 
He mentally rechecked his math before answering her. "Sure, that sounds good to me, babe," he said in a mellow, relaxed drawl; he was really feeling the effects of the after-glow now. He leaned his head back against the head rest for a moment until he noticed a pharmacy.

"Hey, could you pull in there at the Walgreen's for a sec, love. I need to run in and get something," he said, a quirky little smile playing around the corners of his lips. When she pulled in and started to unbuckle herself, he said simply, "I'll just run in and run out, shouldn't take more than a minute or two." He grinned pleasantly and disarmingly, grabbing his shirt as he got out of the car. He was back, as promised, after only a short while. He was carrying one bag that looked bulky, filled with some sort of boxes. As he sat back in his seat and buckled himself back in, he noted with satisfaction that there was a hint of curiosity in her face. "Ahem," he said playfully, and then opened the bag to reveal ten of the largest quantity boxes of assorted styles of Trojans, "I bought three-hundred and sixty, do you think that will last us through tonight?"

He chuckled brightly, delighted at the look crossing her face. A bemused smile remained on his lips when she resumed driving, but a thought occurred to him as he glanced down at the bag once more. The smile slid off his face and he felt his cheeks get hot. He was blushing, and it was getting worse, more and more scarlet, by the second. He swallowed so hard she could hear it. "Um," he said nervously, his hand suddenly shaking on his knee. He obviously wanted to ask her a question, or talk about something, but he was suddenly acting like a 14 year old trying to ask for a first kiss. His head turned and he looked out the window; his sunglasses alone were not, apparently, enough for him to hide behind. "Elsa... can you... feel it. I mean..." he gulped, but forced himself onward, "can you feel it... dripping out... of you.... um... at all?" He continued to stare out the window, pretending to be interested in even the lamp posts they were passing as she drove.
 
The look on her face was a mixed one when he showed her all of the Trojan condoms he'd bought. She thought it was sweet, that he'd go buy all of those in hopes of keeping them safe or whatever, but did they really need them? Before him, she'd never had sex without a condom before. But sex with him was so phenomenal, she felt that the condom would really dampen the feel of it. He seemed excited about his choice though, he seemed to think that she should be too. So she just smiled at him the best she could and started driving, pretending that that was what was distracting her. "Sure, babe." she said vaguely and focussed on the road.

She turned and glanced at him when he asked her if she could feel it dripping out. She paused and then burst out into laughter. She laughed heartily for a good minute and then heaved a great contented sigh. "A little bit. Why? It's not a bad thing, Nick."
 
He twitched a little when she started laughing, feeling a little shocked and taken aback at first at her reaction. His face soon slid into an uncomfortable smile when she spoke, clearly visible in his reflection in the passenger side window. His blush deepened and spread to his ears.

"Oh no reason," he lied in response to her question, but even he knew that it hadn't sounded at all convincing. He let an awkward silence stand in the air until his ears felt so hot that he was sure they were burning. His voice was quiet when he spoke again, barely above a whisper. "It... well... the idea... just turns me on, I guess. That you can feel my... you know," he said awkardly, but then the embarrassment seemed to be too much for him and he added, "Nevermind... it's a little silly and weird I guess."
 
She slid her hand across the divider and found his hand, squeezing it gently. "It turns me on, too babe. I like being able to feel you," she rubbed his fingers with her thumb gently as they sped down the Seawall towards his private beach. When they got there she parked her car in its usual place and turned off the car. She unbuckled herself and then leaned across the car again to turn his head towards her and kiss his lips very gently. "Still up for that swim, sexy?" she teased him, a wide grin spreading across her face. He was so perfect, even when he was being silly and embarrassed like this. She'd never seen him act that way before, but she liked it. He was so adorable and cute. She couldn't believe that she had really ever hated him.
 
He felt a little tingle run up and down his spine as she rubbed his fingers and told him that the feeling excited her too. His mind was still working, and he realized there was something, still, that he wanted to do. He wasn't sure exactly why he was so nervous or embarrassed; he could remember clearly being so confident when he pushed her to admit her attraction, in fantastically physical fashion, to him in the limo weeks ago. He was still blushing beet red when she turned, kissed him (causing his heart to flutter like hummingbird wings), and asked him if he was ready for a swim. He gently took hold of the back of her head, not letting her pull her face away from his. "Not quite yet, love," he said, his voice suddenly sounding more determined. He was still embarrassed by the thoughts that were running through his head, but he was forcing his familiar confidence into his touch and voice.

He just held her there for a moment before making a move, letting his breath fall hot from his lips onto hers. He pulled off his sunglasses to reveal the smoldering, lusty blue eyes she knew and recognized, even though they were currently planted in a sea of unfamiliar blushing. It was strange how this was different to him than revealing that he wanted to collar her, perhaps it was because of how much more intimate in nature this particular kink of his seemed. He didn't speak, but reached slowly across the car's console to rest his hand on her exposed belly button. He held her eyes with his, letting his fingertips find their path by feel rather than by sight. Nick's hand moved agonizingly slowly down her body, towards the waistband of her sarong and swim suit; he was purposeful about the movement, slow so that she wouldn't be startled, giving her the chance to anticipate each movement he was going to make. When he reached cloth, his fingertips wriggled to get under the fabric. His hand continued south until his fingers were gently nestled in the curls of down that adorned her womanhood, his fingertips lightly brushing the highest part of her thighs, urging her legs to open for him. When she gave him the access he had silently requested, he inched his face closer to hers, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he carefully and deliberately did what he had been planning.

Gently, softly, careful not to poke at her sex annoyingly, his fingers slipped between the outer folds of her sex. He lightly brushed around her clitoris, not touching her directly until he was sure it would be pleasant and not overstimulating. When he was sure that her body would be accepting, he let his fingers dip further down her anatomy, finding the velvety inner lips of her sex and parting them. He instantly felt what he was looking for; he felt the liquid of their combined passion from earlier. Most of it was the sticky substance that he had given her, but it was still warm from her body heat. He swallowed hard and blushed deeper. His eyes stayed determined and lustful, but his heart was more skittish; his heart seemed to realize that in a few moments she was going to know what he was up to and that her reaction might not be all that enthusiastic. He dipped his fingertips into her... and started to gather up as much as of the sticky liquid that he could find by touch.

Very carefully, he pulled his fingers slowly from her swimsuit, bringing his sticky, cream-coated fingers up where she and he could both see them. He gulped hard, but his voice stayed steady. He pulled her gaze back to his smoldering eyes and let them start to burn more openly. "Elsa, I know you know what I'm thinking," he said softly in the velvet seductive tone he had used on her so many times, but there was something different in it now, a vulnerable edge, "I'm asking you to do this for me, but don't do it if you don't want to." His eyes scanned hers for reaction, watched her face for recognition.
 
Not quite yet? What else could he possible want, she wondered for a moment. They'd just had sex, could he actually want it again? When he took off his sunglasses and she saw his lusty and demanding eyes (the eyes she'd grown to partially fear but completely love), she thought that he did want to have sex again. She was about to speak in protest when his hand rested on her belly button. She closed her mouth and waited, figuring that he had some kind of plan he wanted to execute or he wouldn't be keeping her gaze like he was.

She kept wondering what he could possibly be up to as his hand slid down her stomach, to the edge of her swim suit, and then inside. His fingers gently demanded that she spread her legs and so she did, wordlessly, still unsure of what he was doing. Her breath caught when his fingers brushed against her clit, but it seemed obvious that that wasn't his main goal. His fingers slid down further until she felt that they were in the little pool of liquid that was still there. A couple of his finger dipped inside of her but pulled out almost immediately, his hand suddenly leaving her bikini bottom and up to eye level. She could see the bit of cum there on his fingers, and at first she wasn't sure why he had taken it.

But then she knew. Realization filled her face though her expression didn't change as he spoke. He wanted her to eat it. To suck the combination of their pleasure off of his fingers. Her heart began to beat a little faster, he was using his seductive tone on her. The tone that she couldn't deny even if her life depended on it. "I want to," she whispered to him, her heart melted by the tiny bit of vulnerability he'd allowed in his tone. She leaned her head forward and gently took his fingers into her mouth. She sucked on them, the liquid coming off of his fingers and onto her tongue. She withdrew her mouth and swallowed it obviously, so that he would know she'd done it. Then she leaned forward again and licked his fingers gently until she was sure they were clean.
 
His chest heaved in anticipation when she said she did want to, but nothing could have prepared him for watching her do that. He had no idea why it affected him so, but when she took his fingers into her warm, soft mouth he had to fight to keep from trembling. He audibly gasped and drew in a sharp breath when she pulled back and made a show of swallowing for him. He started to speak, trying to tell her how incredibly deeply she was shaking him, but his mouth snapped shut again as she went back to his fingers and started to lick them, seeking even the smallest bit of their combined love. He had either melted from overheating or his spine had decided to leave his body, he wasn't sure, but he had certainly lost most of his powers of speech.

"Thank you," he managed to get out. He was trembling now. He leaned closer to her and pressed his lips against hers. In the next moment he found himself pulling her into his arms and pressing his cheek against hers whispering 'thank you' over and over again into her ear, clearly overwhelmed. "I love you, Elsa. I can't believe how lucky I am to have found you," he said breathlessly into her ear, "I can't even explain what you do to me, babe. You just... make me feel like I'm flying." It may have just been a small sexual gesture to her, he couldn't be certain, but it was a deeply emotional one to him. There was never going to be a woman that would excite him the way that she could, he was absolutely certain of that, and he never wanted to let her go. He needed her too, that was the most crazy part. He needed her, and he had never needed anyone. He'd never let himself need someone. She'd come to rescue him from himself today, and that was exactly what she had done, on so many levels.

He sighed softly in her ear and then said cooingly, "I think I'm finally ready for that swim, Elsy."
 
She was taken a little off guard when he began to pull her towards him. She had to maneuver herself out of the driver's seat, over the middle, and into his lap again (a place she'd been not too long ago). She was so melted by him. So completely fallen. No man had ever had that effect on her. She'd never really had much respect for men except her father. All the men she'd gone out with had been pansies. They wanted to drool all over her and make her feel like a princess, and when it came time for intimacy they were painstakingly gentle and slow.

Nick wasn't anything like that, though. He was romantic when he wanted to be, seductive almost all of the time, and extremely adamant in what he wanted. Maybe that was part of what drew her towards him so much. The fact that he didn't take no for an answer, but was always willing to make her feel good. She wrapped her arms around his neck again and began to stroke his familiar soft spot.

"Nick, I love you too. I always will. Always. No matter what happens." she took one hand away and moved it over to open the passenger side door. She giggled and rolled off of him, getting out into the bright sun. Then she stuck her hand inside, "Let's go, slow poke."
 
Emotions and moods seemed to come fast and furious when he was with her, his overwhelmed melting had given way to elated joy and then playfulness as she climbed on him and spoke to him. When she started to stroke that electric spot on the back of his neck, obviously on purpose, he grinned broadly; The chill that ran down his spine was absolutely genuine, but (after melting a little more at her sweet words, of course) he made a show of panting like a puppy being scratched on its tummy. He growled at her as she sat there on his lap, trying to sound like a happy tiger.

When she teased him and got out of her car, even managing to challenge him, he felt excited blood rush through his veins. "I'm coming, I'm coming, sheesh," he teased her back with a wink, "I thought women didn't want men to come too quickly." He hopped out of his seat and grabbed the bag from the pharmacy with one hand and her outstretched hand with his other. He bumped the door closed with his hip and tugged her within range with his hold on her hand. Then he started to playfully attack her neck with his lips and tongue, grunting way more than necessary.

He let her wriggle away from him enough to walk up the steps to the door of the beach house and the long stairway down to his beach. He opened the door just wide enough to toss the bag and their things in the house, but not wide enough for her to get a peek at the inside of the place. Then he turned around and held out his arms to her. He smiled, winked excitedly at her, and said, "Mind jumping up here into my outstretched arms and letting me carry you, gorgeous?"
 
She thought his animal sounds were absolutely adorable. Of course, he was terrible at them, and sound like a goof, but she thought they were adorable anyway. He was the sweetest man she'd ever encountered in her entire life, and he was hers. The best part about it, though, was that he wasn't sweet all of the time. He was sweet when sweetness was needed, and something else when something else was needed -- and yet he was never fake. He was always Nick, no matter how he was acting or what he was doing.

She tilted her head back and laughed heartily, stumbling after him as he tugged on her. She squealed and hit him in playful protest when he assaulted her neck with his mouth, tickling and teasing her purposely. She turned to face him when he held his arms out to her and she advanced, wrapping her arms around his neck loosely. "I think you'd come whenever I asked you to," she said boldly, staring directly into his eyes. It was like she was daring him to speak his dominance over her. But then she took a step back and hopped up onto him, allowing him to carry her. Obedient, as always, even if she tested the waters first.
 
He chuckled as she implied that she might have sexual control over him. She was becoming such a delicious tease. Well, two could play at that game, he thought.

"Ohhhhh, I see," he said back with mock incredulity, starting to carry her bikini clad body down towards the beach, "it sounds like someone's challenging my self-discipline just a bit." He let his voice change a little, adding just a slight edge of threat to the otherwise playful tone, "We might just have to teach that someone a lesson about who's in charge in our bedroom." He looked down into her eyes and raised an eyebrow, and, even behind the sunglasses he wore, there was no mistaking the smoldering blue glint of lust in the familiar hue his eyes bore. He pinched the back of her thigh hard enough to leave a tiny red mark, punctuating the playful threat with just a little bit of actual physical threat.

His mind was wandering in this new direction as he carried her down the steps and his feet touched the sand. He was imaging how nervous she was at first with the collar, wondering whether she'd react the same way the next time he decided to leash her, and thinking of new ways to try and push her buttons. He was having fun... and then, all to quickly, he wasn't having fun. He very nearly dropped her, only barely managing to let her legs down first so that she didn't land ass first on the beach. He quickly pushed her away by the shoulders and walked a few steps away. That had come on far too quickly. It frightened him. He took deep breaths, trying to push his changing mood back. No, not tonight, he told himself, tonight I want to love her, and be loved back. NO! I'm NOT doing this tonight. I've waited too long to find someone like her. Not tonight.
 
Elsa was about to give some playful retort as to who was in charge in their bedroom when he quickly let go of her. She just managed to stay on her feet, stumbling and swaying dangerously from side to side. She yelped and stumbled a few steps, turning around to frown at him as quickly as she could. "Nick, what the --" but when she saw the look on his face she knew something was wrong. She ran over to him and tried to force him to turn around, but of course he was stronger than she was.

"Nick..." she said softly, running around in front of him. She turned her face up to him and tried to make him look at her. "Baby," she whispered, reaching up and stroked his cheek gently.
 
He pulled the sunglasses off, but closed his eyes for a moment, trying so hard to put the mood back under wraps once more. When he opened them again though, it wasn't completely gone. The dangerous, lusty fire she'd seen twice now still lingered. Her soft touch on his cheek helped, though, soothing him. He let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Elsy," he said, dropping his eyes from her gaze, "I didn't mean to drop you like that. I just... it was... not the side of me I wanted..." He shook his head for a moment. He had been flying high on the walk down to the beach, and now he was right back in the middle of the familiar fears. He was shaken by how fast and hard it had come on. He really thought he was at least in control of himself enough to at the very least wait until she was... ready for it. Ready for it? That still seemed silly to him, but he knew she was right about him, about them. Funny how that didn't seem to make it all that much easier.

He took several deep breaths and finally said, "I'm sorry, babe. I think I'm in control now... enough anyway. Where were we before I acted so rudely?"
 
"We're going to go for a swim," she said confidently, grabbing hold of his hand and tugging him down towards the water. "It's pretty warm outside, so I hope the water is nice. I have to admit though, there's only one other time I've been in gulf coast water," she turned her head and giggled at him, remembering their time together in the water. That had been the first time he'd really broken her out of her shell. Gotten her to have sex with him in a public place, despite the fact that there was no one there on the beach besides them and that it'd been early morning.

(Short!)
 
He smiled broadly at her. She was so good at that, making him feel whole. He eagerly let her pull him towards the waves. Just before they reached the wet sand though, he pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms around her stomach. He kissed the back of her neck lovingly and whispered in her ear, "I'm so lucky to have you, Elsy." Then his hands trailed down to her waist and started to untie her sarong. When he felt her body react and worried that she might protest, he explained teasingly, "I don't want to get this wet and ruin it, cutie." He pulled the light cloth off of her and let it gently fall to the dry sand. Then, in typical male fashion, he took a slight step backwards to admire her ass in the tight, pink bottoms she was wearing. He groaned in teasing approval and said, "Alright, now let's get in the water... I need to cool off suddenly." He gave her a little wink and let her continue leading him out into the light surf. He immediately slipped beneath the surface and slicked his wet hair back.
 
She was just about to jump into the water when he pulled her back. She stumbled a little but landed right on him, so she was a little glad that she stumbled. She smiled and giggled softly when he kissed the back of her neck and his hands trailed down her body. But then he was untying the sarong. Her body tensed up and she started to pull away, but he kept her back against him and whispered soothingly into her ear. Then the sarong was off. She could feel him step away and then knew he was examining her ass, but she didn't mind. If anyone was going to examine her ass, she wanted it to be him. When he announced that he needed to cool off she laughed loudly and then skipped right into the water, allowing herself to flop down into it without much grace or poise at all.
 
He laughed out loud as she flopped into the water and started bob around next to him. He splashed her playfully and dove under the waves to tickle her feet. The surf was calm, not that Galveston waves were ever much to speak of, but the undertow was particularly mild today. He swam with her, held her in the water, kissed her, slicked her hair back, and occasionally copped feels for the better part of an hour. When they were both mellowed, relaxed, and starving, he picked her up and started to carry her back to the house, leaning down so she could pick up her sarong while still in his arms.

The moment they were in the door, she could tell he had been anxious to get her out of the house earlier so that someone he had called could get into the beach house. The whole place looked freshly cleaned, and there were fresh tulips sitting on the living room coffee table with a large pepperoni pizza, which Nick promptly warmed up in the oven while Elsa got a chance to shower off some of the salt water. He was dry and curled up on the futon for her when she came back. They ate and watched a movie that she picked from the beach house's collection (either Nick liked movies, or felt compelled to provide a large selection for guests). He held her in his arms and whispered in her ear the whole time, making himself into quite a distraction.

As soon as she gave him the opening to do so, he invited her to retire for the evening. Naturally, there was a satin nightgown involved... the blue one from the mansion, Nick had really been specific in his directions, evidently. Once Elsa had slipped it on, Nick led her into the master bedroom. It was a large room, but didn't feel huge, just... open. There were rose petals everywhere and nice furniture, but by far the first thing anyone would notice was the view. The room was built into the corner of the house and both of the exterior walls seemed to be made entirely of glass. It literally felt like this room was sitting out on the beach, despite being 20 feet above the ground. The view from the futon was beautiful, but this felt like you were connected with the ocean. The sea breeze was blowing lightly into the room and the waves were clearly audible through several of the partially opened glass panes on the wall that most directly faced the water. None of the lights were on, but it didn't feel all that dark, even in the moonlight. She realized that the light in the room was dancing oddly along the floor, as if they were at the bottom of the swimming pool and the light was refracting through water. It felt interestingly like being in a bedroom that was underwater. When she looked up, she saw a large skylight... that had gently moving water in it, obviously to provide that very effect.

Nick had gone a little crazy with the decorating for the evening, as well. In addition to several arrangements of roses on every surface the room offered, there were rose petals covering the bedspread. As the evening progressed, and he took her to bed, it became clear there were rose petals in the sheets as well. He took his time with her, rubbing her back and kissing every inch of her skin that didn't send her into ticked convulsions (and a few that did). When he finally started to make more direct advances, he seemed determined to focus on wrapping them both in pleasure and love like warm blankets, starting by going down on her until he was almost exhausted. When she tried to protest that he was doing too much 'work', he warded her off with the look in his eyes. He was clearly loving every moment of the experience and would have felt denied if she didn't let him do the things he wanted to for her, and for him. When he finally took her, he was passionate and energetic, but making love to her, connecting with her (They had a very brief conversation about protection, which she was easily able to convince him to forget about). He had no idea how long it lasted, though he couldn't get enough, and even though he wasn't looking for his climax, it found him; he made special efforts, with his fingertips and his mouth applied to her breasts, to satisfy her before it overtook him. He held her close as they both slipped into a delightful afterglow that soon faded into loving sleep.

He awoke the next morning to find her still wrapped around him. He smiled and gently extricated himself, going to the kitchen to make her breakfast in bed. But the moment he got back in the bedroom, carrying a tray with strawberry and cream cheese stuffed french toast, a mini omelette, juice, milk, and a single rose, something came over him. The moment he saw her wearing only the bedspreads, he felt it. He wanted to wake her up in a very different way from what he had been planning. His breath fell heavy from him, and he started to panic at what he was about to do. He quickly set the tray down in the spot he had been sleeping and got out of the room. He was down on the beach before he knew where he was going or had realized he hadn't put on a stitch of clothing. He sat down in the sand and put his head between his knees, too sure of what he would do if given the opportunity to go back in the house to fetch something to wear.
 
They had had an absolutely amazing night together. From their playful swimming to their excitingly casual dinner to their powerfully erotic time in bed, their night had been amazing. The entire day had been amazing in fact. He was perfect in every way. She hadn't forgotten about his little 'problem', but she'd chosen not to think about it until she had to. She didn't think it would be too terrible now that she knew what was coming. She wasn't sure though. It'd been pretty horrible that day in his office...but, she'd been a different person then.

She awoke and rolled over to lay on him and maybe take care of his 'morning wood' but she rolled over into nothingness. She opened her eyes and frowned, staring at the bed below her. She sat up and looked towards the door, seeing the tray of food set down seemingly sloppily.

"Hmm..." she said to herself and rose out of the bed. She picked up her nightgown off of the floor and pulled it on. She went over to the window/wall and saw him sitting out on the sand. Her heart melted a little and she went running out to the stairs. She hurried down them but then stopped. She didn't want to disturb him before she got to him. She tiptoed as best she could in her skimpy nightie all the way down to the water where he was. She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned over, "Nick?"
 
He hadn't heard her approach; he hadn't had any chance to prepare himself. Nick had thought he was far enough away from her to let his guard down, let his mind wander. It was a mistake. When she touched him on the shoulder, he was already pretty far gone. His face turned slowly up to hers, and the blue eyes that looked up at her weren't like anything she'd seen in his face before, they were flat out viscous, predatory. He stared at her like that for a long moment, and then, without any warning, his hand flashed up to hers, resting on his shoulder, and grabbed her firmly by the wrist. He twisted her arm painfully and yanked her down off her feet. He was moving over her, still silent as a tomb, grabbing her shoulders to force the wrist up her back.

He worked her body with a considerable amount of his strength, evidently, even that day in his office, he had been using restraint with her. When he had her pinned down on her stomach in the sand, he released her shoulders and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He gave a sharp yank on her wrist, twisting her arm up her back until he drew enough of a yelp from her lips to make him smile in delight. He audibly sighed then moaned more happily than was necessary, rubbing in the fact that he was enjoying himself while she was in pain. He yanked on her hair so that he could see the look on her face, wanting to see whether fear, pain, or some other emotion was currently ruling her features. She could see him grinning down at her for a few seconds, but in the next moment her face was forced into the sand, and then his hand was grinding it into the dry, powdery brown beach; he was very obviously trying to get sand in her mouth, nose and eyes, and the very idea made him excited.

He was panting now, starting to grow a hard erection. She heard ripping as he tore at the nightgown, an act he would truly be sorry for later. He yanked the garment away from her body, leaving her no way to cover herself out here on the beach. He shoved her over onto her back and looked over her naked front, leering at her with that predatory stare. When his eyes met hers, though, they softened just a touch. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. His voice sounded normal when he spoke now, but there was a deep urgency, "Run, Elsa, run towards your car if you don't want this to happen. Run into the house if you don't want it to happen outside. But run. Don't try to get your keys, don't try to get dressed, just run. Run now!"
 
She jumped when he turned and grabbed her wrist. Her lips trembled and she opened her mouth to say something to him, but in the next instant he'd turned her arm and yanked her so that she fell onto the ground. Then he yanked her again and she was down on her stomach, her arm twisted horribly up her back. She cried out in pain, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried to hold back more whimpers. But then he grabbed her shoulders too and she had to cry out again, the tears dripping out of her eyes now. She screeched when he shoved her face down into the sand, closing her eyes just in time. But she had to breathe and the sand got up her nose and in her mouth.


When he turned her face around she stared at him with terror in her eyes. There was no pain there though, she knew he had to do this. Her physical pain was obvious by the tears streaming down her sand strewn face. She gasped for breath as he rolled her onto her back, her naked figure there in front of him. She glanced at the torn up blue nightie in his hand and saw him as only a monster. When he told her to run she scampered up to a standing position and stared at him a moment longer. Then she turned and bolted. She started towards her car but realized that it was locked. She veered towards the house and sprinted up the steps, reaching the door and nearly doubling over. She flung the door open and ran inside, without any idea of where she was going.
 
Nick doubled himself over in the sand and started to make himself count to 30, as if this were some cruel game of tag or hide and seek. He would have been grateful later that his eyes were closed, if he had known how she'd looked at him before running away. He breathed in deep as he hit the number 30 in his silent count and... let go. He let his resolve slip away and gave himself over to the frustrations, disappointments, and anger.

He was on his feet, dropping the torn garment in his hand. His eyes quickly scanned the front of the house; he was just in time to see her huffing and trying to burst in. In the next moment the house seemed to be moving towards him as he ran. Had she huddled next to her car, maybe... maybe he would have been able to throw her purse out the front door and lock himself in, then take something out on the furniture, but his mind was in full on take mode now; he fully interpreted the fact that she was running into the house as license to pursue. He took the steps two at a time and practically knocked the front door of its hinges as it was swinging closed on him. He looked around the living room for any sign of the direction she'd taken.

His voice rang out through the house. It was playful, but taunting, almost wicked, "Come out, come out wherever you are." He grinned, standing there naked in the beach house doorway and tracking the woman he loved like she was a wild animal that he was hunting.
 
Once Elsa was inside the house, she had no idea what to do. Stay in the kitchen? Go to the living room? The bedroom? The closet? She had no idea. Nowhere was good. He would get her anywhere that she was. And she knew that he had to get her, that she had to let him do this to her. But that didn't mean she wasn't scared, wasn't terrified. She was. Her heart was pounding nearly out of her chest, a huge lump in her throat as she tried her absolute best not to hyperventilate.

She finally ran into the living room, ducking beside the futon. That was the first place they'd had sex inside the beach house. When they'd had their platters of seafood and had just lounged there for two days instead of going to work. Her blood ran cold when she heard his cruel voice ring out, commanding her to come out. She slowly stood and walked around the futon, as if magically controlled by his voice. She walked until she knew he could see her from the back door. She turned and looked at him, her eyes wide with fear. She trembled, her legs tensed and ready to bolt when he came for her.
 
He was somewhat surprised when she stood and presented herself to him. In another context, it might have been a sweet gesture that melted him, but in this case it only seemed to fan the flames. He reached behind him, closing the door and locking it, more for the effect of hearing the bolt slide closed with a cold metallic sound than to really keep her in.

She was scared and tense, wide-eyed. She obviously wanted to run, but she wasn't... yet. His taunting grin stretched wider until it was an evil, toothy smile. He took a step towards her, slowly, malevolent desires written across his face and in his eyes as he let his imagination run wild with images of what he might do to her. He took another deliberate step towards her, closing the distance slowly. He was forcing her to anticipate this, giving her time to think about what he might do, what might be coming when he got within arm's reach. He made a sudden move with his hand, trying to make her flinch, laughing at her. When he was still 6 feet away from her, he slowly started to kneel... no crouch... he looked like a cobra or a lion about to pounce on his prey. He bared his teeth at her and licked his lips. He turned his voice into velvet, malicious, threatening velvet, "There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, love. You're mine now, whether you want to be or not... and you're going to be my delicious, little, powerless... slut."

His chest heaved and he just watched her, crouched there threateningly. He was ready to attack her, ready to chase her. He was daring her to run and daring her to stay still at the same time.
 
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