Power Play

I looked up from my desk to see him walking by. I frowned. He was not what I wanted to see right now. I had work to focus on, and here he was, right in front of me, and all I could think of was the blood that was rapidly pooling the one place I didn't want it to. It'd been the better part of three weeks since the last time, and I was ready to flip through the address book that I usually reserved for when I was really desperate. But he was here now, he was in my domain.

I walk out to where he is, he's standing in the middle of autopsy, complaining that Bug is taking too long with whatever dead body he needs answers on. “Do you have a problem detective?” I ask him, leaning casually against the door frame. He glares at me and I smirk.

“Yes. I need this autopsy.”

“You'll have to wait your turn, detective, you're not the only person involved in homicide, we have 12 other detectives that have dead bodies here waiting, so I suggest you wait for Bug to finish.” My voice is low and controlled hatred. He had no right to be here, my domain, ordering my staff around.

Bug backs away slowly from the battle of the alpha males. I'm staring him down, dangerously close to him, only the knowledge that we weren't alone is stopping me from kissing him into submission. He backs away a step and I smirk triumphantly. “If you have a problem with anyone, you come see me, you know where my office is.” I stress the words and he nods subserviently.

He gets the hint. He may be an arrogant asshole, but he's not stupid. “Right doc.” He says simply and I back away from him, heading back to my office, waiting for him to show up, closing the blinds and pouring out a measured glass of scotch. My pants are straining just from the thought of what was to come. He walks in a minute later and I smirk. I knew he'd come. He hates it, but yet he can't stop it.

I kiss him, hard, sucking the air out of him as I undo his pants, leaning him over the desk. This was my fantasy from the first time I met him. I have some Louis Armstrong playing, the rest of the morgue knows that that is my “do not disturb” sign, and no one in their right minds, even Jordan, dares interrupt me when that's the case, especially if the blinds are closed, because most of the time they'd be on the receiving end of me one step short of murderous rampage.

Although it would be a bit of a shock for them to see what my anger was being channeled into now. He's there, sprawled out, ass in the air, all but begging me to take him. I stand behind him and run one finger along him, sliding one inside of him and he groans. We don't have the aid of any lube. I contemplate using my scotch, but that would burn me just as much as it would burn him. And while I had no aversions to hurting him, I was far from the masochist.

But he still responds to my touch, and I pull my fingers out, sliding myself in instead. He's so tight, so raw around me and I pull out and thrust in again, hard. He slams into the desk and fights back a yelp of pain. I grin, and repeat the motion. This time he manages to brace himself to not hit the desk, but he's still whimpering. “Shut up.” I tell him and thrust softer this time. He complies to that at least.

He's my toy, and he hates it. I can see it, it's pure anger burning in his eyes whenever he sees me, but yet he can't stop it. He enjoys it too much. And I enjoy it too. It's a dirty, sinful pleasure, the dirtiest of them all, but it feels so good. It feels so good to see him writhing beneath me, completely in my control.

I reach down and squeeze him tightly and he bites back a scream. He's been good so far, he can get a tiny bit of pleasure out of things himself. I keep driving into him, speeding up my pace, desperate to get this over with as soon as possible. He keeps driving into the edge of the desk and he shakes slightly with each one.

It must hurt, but he's not showing it. He's busy being Mr. Big-Tough-Cop, showing no emotion, especially not pain. I squeeze again and pound into him, causing him to thrust against my hand and I can tell he's right on the edge himself. I spend a long minute debating on whether or not I want to let him have that little pleasure.

I squeeze him again. It's always a good idea to make your toys happy at least once in a while so that they keep playing. Keep them in fine working order. He spasms in my hand and I quickly pull back, thrusting as hard as I can into him as I finish as well. I pull out of him and fix my pants.

“Bug should be done with your autopsy now. And if you ever order around one of my staff again, you can guarantee that you'll wind up in a very bad position.” He nods and I can see the hint of questioning lust in his eyes, as if he was debating on what exactly his punishment would be. I could think of a few things that would be quite fun for me and bad for him. I turn back to the paperwork that had been shoved off to the side, restoring some order to the desk as he pulls his pants back on and looks at me again, but I'm ignoring him, I had no use for him anymore, I had gotten what I wanted, he could go. I smirk as he walks out the door, half hoping that he would come back with that arrogant nature of his and try to own my domain.