Louisa

"I had," I begin with gusto, "every intention of coming out here and submerging myself in the water. That changed when I saw you and you put me off!"

Michael laughs. "That's a lie. Now, admit it or you'll sink."

His eyes are gleaming. He thinks I'm going to give in, I realise. Obviously, he has no understanding of how stubborn I can truly be.

I steel myself, taking a deep breath, before looking him directly in the eye.

"No," I simply say before letting go of his neck and throwing myself backwards into the water.

The water is so much worse than I had expected. My limbs flail around wildly, both in an attempt to get away from Michael and to get closer to shore. Only, I'm not sure which way shore is.

In fact, I'm not sure where anything is. I open my eyes to the stinging sea water, but I can't see anything. The sky was overcast so there is no sun to give me a clue as to which way I am supposed to go. I flail around miserably, realising that I may actually drown.

I have been underwater for around ten seconds when Michael grabs me and drags me to shore. I gasp as I hit the sand and, though I am strangely exhausted from that quick stunt, I untangle myself from his arms immediately.

"You're welcome," Michael gasps sarcastically as I gather my dripping skirts around me and pick up my jewellery from the sand.

"I didn't need your help," I growl, making my way along to the nearest outbuilding. It's about a minute's walk from here, at the top of the beach. I can already see it. There is a small fireplace that should dry me off.

"You were drowning," Michael laughs, though there is no humour in it.

"I was fine," I shout over my shoulder at him. I know my anger is misdirected and that I'm behaving petulantly, but I can't help it. I cannot admit to this man that he was right and have him look all smug. "I was fine until you butted in!"

"You weren't even swimming!" He calls back, coming after me. I can hear his feet on the sand. "You would have drowned."

"I wouldn't have even gone in if it weren't for you!" My voice is rising higher. I am so angry I might hit him. I am almost at the beach hut, just a few more strides and I can lock him out.

"And here I thought you were in love?"

My hand connects with his cheek before I realise I've even turned around. There's a resounding slapping noise, I've hit him quite hard. The words I was going to say die on my tongue.

For a moment we just look at each other. He looks furious and I can feel myself shrinking in front of him. I consider apologising, but that doesn't seem like it would have much effect on him. It would be like adding fuel to the flames.

And then, purely on instinct, I turn and try to run away from him. I get less than half a pace before his arms shoot out and grab me around the waist, pulling me to him.

"No!" I gasp, struggling to get away from his body but I have no chance. His arms are like steel -- I can feel the tensed muscles under his shirt; thick arms would around me. I feel that pulse between my legs even as I push against him. "No!"

Michael lifts me easily, walking over to the hut. The door is open, as I knew it would be, and he pulls me inside.

"I'm-" I begin to apologise but Michael spins me with such force that I lose my words. He's roughly pulling at my clothes and, before I can do anything to stop him, he's there before me. And I'm completely nude.

"No!" I cry out as he grabs my waist. I feel the first flutters of panic in my stomach. I am utterly vulnerable -- no one can hear or see me but him, and he has access to my most private of places.

Michael pushes me up against one of the bare stone walls. This outbuilding is mostly used for storage and, at one point, a private place to change if you were on the beach. It's old and dusty and hasn't been cleaned in years.

He pins my hands above my head, holding them tightly against the wall in one fist. I can feel the cool stone grinding into the sides of my palms and then down, all along my naked body, chilling me. His other hand holds my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. It's so large it spans my entire jaw and then some.

But, most alarmingly, his pelvis grinds into me, holding the rest of my body still against the wall. He is not between my legs, but I can feel his trousers rubbing against my mons, barely concealing his arousal.

"Will you ever hit me again?" He growls, his voice low, tickling my ear. I groan loudly -- much louder than I would have wanted to, but my ears are sensitive, they always have been. His voice now causes shivers to run over my whole body, culminating in my core. "Answer me, Louisa," he warns, pushing his pelvis against mine.

I shake my head. "No."

He nods, before licking up my neck. My knees go weak -- this is so different from anything that Charlie and I ever did. This is exciting and dangerous, and I have no doubt in my mind that Michael will take whatever he wants from me.

"Were you in love with that little weasel of a boy?" His hand comes off of my chin, but I continue to look at him, knowing that this is what he wants. He is so much bigger than me, I feel so tiny and weak in his grasp. His hand moves to between my legs, pulling them apart and pushing himself into the new-found gap there, making me gasp loudly. "Did he ever make you feel like this?"

"No, sir," I tell him, unsure of where the title came from. It just felt right. In all honesty I would have called him my master if he'd asked me to.

"Good girl," he growls in my ear. His fingers are dancing at my entrance and I don't doubt that he will be finding my wet, open and ready for him. I have never felt a pulsing between my legs so strongly -- I've never wanted a man so much in my life.

"Do you want me, Louisa?" His fingers have found the little nub of nerves and are rubbing away gently. I forgo answering his question, instead allowing the groans to come freely. I hope beyond hope that this is enough -- that this open display of desire and lust will be enough to answer his question. I'm not sure I can say the words -- it's the last thing I have, my only power over him. If I answer, I am his.

"You need to say it Louisa," he warns me, slipping a finger inside me. My head falls back, hitting the wall, and I cry out. "Don't move your hands," he growls before removing them from his grip and moving down to my head to fist my hair. He pulls until I am looking in his eyes again, our foreheads together. Another finger slips inside me and I can feel my arousal dripping out, coating him. He is smiling -- a smug, powerful smile with those serious eyes.

"Tell me you want me," he demands and, looking in his eyes I can't say no.

"I want you."

Michael growls, a low, rumbling noise in his chest as I begin to move my hips, forcing his fingers into me.

"Watch," he commands, pushing my head forward until I can see where our bodies meet. His fingers leave me open, heading to the front of his trousers, unzipping until his cock springs free.

I'd never given much thought to the appearance of men's cocks, but I know this one is perfect. Thick, long and smooth. It is different from Charlie's in every sense. I want to put this inside me. I want to make him cum and hear him groan and know that I'm the one giving him this pleasure.

My naked legs are already spread but he lifts them up and around his waist, and as he places his cock at my entrance, I can see my juices coating it.

I whimper, terrified but so aroused -- I want this and yet I don't know what I want. I want him to take control. I want him to take the decision away from me.

And then suddenly he has.

Michael pushes forward, his cock spearing into my flesh and burying itself in there. There is pain, a tightness which is difficult to get used to, but a delicious fullness which leaves me breathless.

He pushes until he is all the way in, groaning himself. This is consuming -- everything adds to the pleasure, his face, his body, the sounds he makes and the way he makes me feel; it's as though I could drown in these feelings.

Michael pulls out slowly, his cock glistening, before pushing back in, eliciting an embarrassing high, whiny noise from me.

"Look at me," I look up immediately to see his eyes burning into mine. "Don't look away."

I nod and he immediately begins to move.

The thickness slides inside me, almost coming out but then pushing back in. I call out and then I am lost.

Michael is fucking me, with a clinging rhythm that steals my breath. There are noises pouring out of my mouth, but I don't care. His eyes watch every movement of my face -- every helpless expression is there for him to devour as I lose myself in his movements.

His arms hold my legs behind the knees as he pushes into me again and again, and I still have not moves my arms from above me. One of his arms shifts to behind my ass to support me, while the other slides to my front and begins to worry that bundle of nerves again.

I call out in desperation -- I have never been this excited; the pulsing inside of me is so much more than that now -- it is everything.

"Come," he commands, though I'm not sure what he means. "Come on my cock. Come with me inside you."

My core begins to clench and, though I try not to, my eyes close as I begin to scream. I clamp down on him again and again, though he doesn't stop moving. His hand moves from my core to brace on the wall.

When I open my eyes, his expression is incredible -- I can see the desperation on his face and I'm sure my face matches. He pumps a few more times, harder than before, and then his cock begins to twitch, shooting jets of semen inside me.

We stand like that for a few seconds, until his cock begins sliding out slowly and I can feel his cum dripping out and down between my ass.

Michael is panting and so am I. I'm not sure how I feel. Dominated, I suppose. I feel as though he has taken everything from me. And yet, I think, I don't mind.

He places me lightly on my feet again, my thigh muscles crying out from movement. I suddenly feel cold and very, very naked.

"Here," he passes me my dress, which is still soaking wet. "Put this on for now. You can change in the house."

I nod, putting the dress on, though the wet material clings to me horribly. I'm not sure how I feel.

"Look at me," Michael commands, and I do. He looks so utterly normal that I'm almost shocked. It's as though some wild beast possessed him and has suddenly left his body. He still has his serious eyes and slant of brow, but there's the small, barely there smile that I remember from last night. Was that only last night? I ask myself. I feel like a completely different person. "I have wanted to do that for weeks."

Michael bends down towards me and puts his lips against mine, ever so gently. I realise that we have never kissed before. What an odd order to do things in.

It's a sweet kiss that makes my chest expand -- it causes a strange ache beneath my rib cage, a sort of swelling that leaves me smiling.

Without another word, he takes my hand in his and walks us out of the outbuilding. We continue to hold hands through the small wooded area and across the lawns, all the while a lazy grin is plastered on my face. We walk along the edge of the lawn, in the hopes that we won't be noticed by anyone in the house. Michael steals short, sweet kisses every few steps. It feels unbelievably natural.

When we get nearer the top of the lawn, I notice a figure -- a man watching us.

"Isn't that the weasel?" Michael asks, noticing him for the first time, too.

"Charlie," I correct him, not that I have much respect for the weasel myself. I look to Michael, afraid that he is angry that someone has seen us, but he simply smiles.

"Let's give him something to look at," he says, pulling me closely and kissing me passionately. His tongue snakes into my mouth and claims me fully. I had thought that I was sated in the outbuilding, but an intense pulse takes hold of between my legs and I whimper into his mouth.

Michael entwines his hands in my hair, pulling me closer and by the time he pulls away I'm breathless.

When I stop grinning at Michael and turn to the house again, Charlie isn't there anymore.

No doubt, what we have done today will have serious ramifications of some sort, though what they are I have no idea. I don't know if Michael will want to see me again after this or if I will ever see him again at all. But for the moment, I am happy. Deliriously happy in this lust-filled haze I hope I never escape from.