Sorry. Anything you want. It was like she was a completely different person, and it was slightly unnerving, even if he was aware that she was playing a part. She was playing it alarmingly well. He couldn't quite get his head around the idea that she wanted him like this- controlling and misogynistic- but perhaps it wasn't really the time to dwell on it. Simply act. Keep going. They could worry about what it all meant later on. Or not.
She pulled away pathetically, and without really thinking about what he was doing, he found himself grabbing onto her arm, spinning her roughly to face him. "The fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked her, the words coming out surprisingly aggressively. He even took himself by surprise, although he tried his best not to let it show.
Gripping onto her arm, he took a couple of steps forward, forcing her to move with him. "Don't fucking struggle, darling," he told her. It was a demand, not a request. A couple of steps later, he was practically shoving her against the wall.
"There's no point. I fucking know this is what you want, don't try to pretend," he told her, his body pressing her up against the wall. "You get off on this, don't you? You want to be fucking degraded, you want me to treat you like you're nothing. You like to think you don't, but you just can't fight it, yeah?" he told her, even though it really wasn't a question. One hand held her shoulder, the other moved roughly between their bodies to undo her jeans.