The knock on the door came late, when the house was quiet and the only light came from the kitchen. Linda opened it expecting her son, but it was Jake, his best friend, standing there with that cocky half-smile he always wore around her. He was twenty, broad-shouldered, and he stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.
"Where's Mark?" she asked, already feeling the shift in the air.
"Not coming home tonight," Jake said, closing the door behind him. His eyes moved over her body like he owned it. "He told me to check on you."
She backed up a step, but he followed, and the next thing she knew his hand was on her wrist, pulling her close. "Jake, stop"
He didn't. He pushed her against the wall, his mouth on her neck, hands sliding under her shirt. "You've been teasing me for months," he growled. "Walking around in those tight clothes, bending over when you know I'm watching. Tonight you're going to take what you've been asking for."
Linda struggled at first, twisting in his grip, but his strength was overwhelming. He yanked her shirt up, exposing her breasts, and sucked hard on one nipple while his fingers shoved into her panties. She was already wet, and the shame of it hit her like a slap. "No," she gasped, but her hips rocked against his hand anyway.
He dragged her to the couch, bent her over the arm, and ripped her panties down. The sound of his belt unbuckling made her pulse race. His cock was thick and hard when he pressed it against her entrance. "Say it," he ordered, voice low and dark. "Tell me you want it."
"I don't," she whispered, even as her body betrayed her, pushing back slightly.
He thrust in anyway, one deep stroke that filled her completely. Linda cried out, half protest, half moan.
He fucked her hard, one hand gripping her hip, the other pulling her hair so her back arched. Each thrust forced a sound from her throat she couldn't hold back. The power in his body, the way he used hers, sent heat flooding through her.
She stopped fighting after the third stroke. Her hands gripped the couch cushion as he pounded into her, and the resistance melted into something hotter, darker. She submitted to it, pushing back to meet him, legs spreading wider. Jake laughed low in his throat. "That's it. Good girl."
He flipped her onto her back, spread her thighs, and drove into her again while his thumb worked her clit. The orgasm hit fast and brutal, her walls clenching around him as she came with a broken cry. He didn't stop. He kept fucking her through it, then pulled out and made her suck him clean, his hand on the back of her head, controlling every movement until he flooded her mouth.
Later, when he had her on her knees again in the bedroom, wrists loosely tied with his belt, she stopped pretending she didn't want it. She begged for his cock, begged him to use her harder, and he did, taking her until she was shaking and spent, marked by his hands and his come.
By morning he was gone, but the ache between her legs remained, a reminder of how easily she had broken and how completely she had given in. She knew he'd be back. And she knew she wouldn't stop him.
