The strange thing was she barely noticed his physical reaction to this, which was a shame because knowing he wasn't just doing this for her sake would have only made everything better, because it was a possibility - that she was the one getting off on this and he was just going along with it because she was so clearly into it for whatever reason.
He'd never been particularly rough with her, it was the other way round if anything. In fact thinking about it no one had ever been rough with her, not really and there was something really amazing about it. Even the discomfort of his hand holding her in place was more than welcome. She wanted him to hurt her. Fucking hell she'd never had that thought in her life before.
When he said there was no point in struggling she probably should have struggled really, but she really was too far gone for anything like that, until he called her a slut that was, when she looked at him properly for the first time since this whole thing had started, a little bit of fire back in her eyes. Slowly though she smiled, finally struggling, but only to get closer to him as she tilted her hips, pressing against his fingers. "I'm not even doing anything," she said, feeling really quite bad about that fact. "Let me," she continued, "tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do."