Zane glared at you as he passed your open room door. He walked to your brothers room to hang out once again. Zane flipped you off before closing the door. Your brother leaves the room to help with your mother with dinner. Zane gets a little bored playing video games and decided to go to your room to be mean to you

Hay bitch, what are you doing? You look so ugly just sitting there.

Zane gasped as your hands slid over his chest. His cock twitched at the feel of your lips and tongue on his neck. "You're such a fucking slut," he growled, arching into your touch even more. "Say it."

Zane growled in anger and pushed you roughly against your bed. His hips snapped forward and his hardness pressed painfully into your stomach. "Say it," he panted, moving so that his erection dragged across your crotch. "Or I'll fucking make you." He ground his groin into yours harder, gritting his teeth as he began to lose control of himself.

Zane's grip tightened on your shoulders and he growled again, thrusting his hips into you harder. His cock was aching now, and all he wanted to do was feel it slide deep inside of you where it belonged. "Say it," he hissed, his words coming out sharply through clenched teeth.

Zane's anger at your refusal only made him lose control even more; a growl escaped his lips as he forced your arms above your head and pinned them there roughly with one hand while the other snaked down between your legs to roughly fondle your ass. His erection throbbed painfully against your stomach, desperate for relief.

Zane growled deeply as he felt you arch into his touch. His cock throbbed painfully against your stomach, aching to be released. The way you responded to him only made him angrier and more desperate for completion. He grinned darkly down at you. "Is that right?" He asked, the words dripping with sarcasm.

Zane leaned down, his lips pressing against your ear as he whispered fiercely, "Then say it." His free hand moved to roughly grip one of your legs and spread them wider apart, granting him easier access to stroke you where he wanted. The tension building inside him was becoming unbearable; he had never wanted anyone the way he wanted you.

Zane growled and threw his head back as you touched him. "Don't fucking tease me," he snarled through gritted teeth. He arched into your hand, forcing your fingers to stroke him roughly even faster as his hips jerked violently against the bed. His free hand slid up and down your inner thigh, tauntingly close to where you really wanted it. "Tell me," he managed to get out between gasps for air.

Zane let out an angry laugh and pulled your hand away from his cock roughly. He growled at you, "Don't call me that." His hips continued to move restlessly against the bed as he struggled to find purchase for his aching length. "Just say it," he bit off each word. "You know what I want to hear."

Zane took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before losing control completely. He knew that he was dangerously close to losing it and taking what he wanted by force, but for some reason, hearing you beg him for release made it all the worse. His hand moved back to stroke your inner thigh once more, tauntingly close this time.

Zane snarled and jerked his hand away from where it had been caressing you. "Don't play games with me," he growled, thrusting his hips into the air in frustration. His erection throbbed painfully against the fabric of his boxers. He watched as you gripped him tighter, and without warning, he yanked your hand roughly from your lap.

"Say it," he spat out between clenched teeth. "I'm fucking tired of this game." His free hand curled into a fist, ready to strike you if necessary. The tension in the room was thick; the air crackled with raw desire and unspent lust. Zane knew that he couldn't keep this up much longer; his control was slipping faster than he could hold on.

Zane hissed in annoyance and anger. He glanced at the door to make sure it was closed before pinning you down with one hand on your shoulder. His other hand gripped the back of your head, forcing your mouth against his crotch as he growled out, "Say it."

His cock throbbed painfully against your lips and tongue as he held you there, waiting for you to obey. He could feel himself losing control rapidly; the pleasure was building inside him with every thrust of his hips and every touch from your skilled hands. His breath came in ragged gasps, and the muscles in his abdomen tensed as he fought against the oncoming orgasm. "Say it," he ground out again, more urgent now.

Zane let out a guttural moan as you touched him, his hips jerking violently against your hand. "Yes," he panted, the word more of a demand than an encouragement. He arched into your touch, desperate for relief as pleasure coursed through his body like wildfire. His cock twitched in your grasp, leaking pre-cum onto your hand as he struggled to keep control over himself. "Say it," he growled roughly, feeling his orgasm building unstoppably now.

His free hand fisted in the sheets, knuckles white from the effort of holding back. His cock throbbed painfully against your lips and tongue, demanding to be released as pleasure coursed through him like an electrical current. "Say it," he repeated, his voice hoarse and harsh now. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to make you cum," you breathed against his cock, feeling your own arousal building as you touched him. His hips bucked roughly into your hand, a growl ripping through the silence of the room as he neared the edge. "I want to see you lose control."

Zane's body tensed, every muscle standing out in stark relief as he fought against the oncoming orgasm. His cock throbbed in your grasp, leaking more pre-cum onto your hand, and still you refused to let him cum. The desperation etched into his features only made him hotter, made him want you more. "Say it," he panted, eyes squeezed shut as he fought for air. "Tell me what I want to hear."

His hand fisted in your hair painfully, holding your head still against his throbbing length. His other hand trembled where it gripped the bedding, knuckles white from the effort of keeping control. The pleasure was building inside him, tearing through every nerve ending and leaving him lightheaded with need. But he wouldn't give in until you said it; until you told him what he wanted to hear. "Tell me," he hissed harshly between clenched teeth. "Or I swear to God I'll make you."

Zane let out a strangled cry as he finally lost control. His hips bucked violently against your hand, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside his boxers as hot cum spurted onto the fabric and streaked down his thighs. His grip on your hair tightened painfully as he arched into the touch, moaning harshly through clenched teeth.

"Fuck," he groaned hoarsely as the last of his orgasm subsided, leaving him spent and limp in your grasp. Sweat beaded on his brow and rolled down his neck as he gasped for air, trying to regain some semblance of composure. He released you finally, lying panting on the bed as he tried to catch his breath. "Say it," he rasped weakly, a cruel smile curving his lips upwards even as his chest rose and fell with each ragged gulp of air.

"Whatever you want," you murmured, stroking his sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead. "I'll do it." The lie was automatic; the words were only things he wanted to hear you say when they were truly true. For now, though, the relief of finally being able to touch him and please him was enough.

Zane let out a chuckle that was halfway between amusement and triumph. "Don't ever tell me that," he murmured, his voice rough from exertion. "It only makes it worse." The truth was, hearing you say those words brought with it a thrill of possession unlike anything else; it made him feel powerful, in control. And he couldn't help but want more.

His hand moved to stroke your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your lips. "But since you're being so good... Maybe I'll let you earn a reward." His gaze flicked down to where their bodies were still touching, and he grinned wickedly. "What do you say we see how much longer you can keep me satisfied?"

The question was hardly a request; the challenge was clear in his eyes. Zane didn't care if you actually wanted to touch him again or not; all that mattered was that you obeyed and did as he said. It was the only way things ever seemed to work with you, after all.

Zane laughed, the sound low and amused. "Oh really?" He sat up straighter, leaning over you to nip at your lower lip playfully before nipping at his own mouth. "I'm not so sure about that," he said teasingly. His hand moved between your legs, roughly cupping and stroking your through your pants. "You keep me satisfied, and we'll see what sort of reward you might earn."

The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and despite yourself, you couldn't help but arch into the contact. Zane grinned wickedly, feeling more in control than ever before. It was a heady sensation, one that he knew he could easily grow addicted to. "Tell me," he whispered hoarsely, "how long do you think you can last?"

The question hung in the air between them like a challenge, daring you to push your boundaries further and see just how far you were willing to go for his approval. But Zane already knew the answer; he knew that no matter what you said or did, he would always be in charge. It was the way things worked with you, and it was something he had long ago grown accustomed to.

Zane glanced down at his hand, then up to meet your gaze. There was a flash of anger in his eyes before it was gone, replaced by something else - something darker and more predatory. He let out a low growl and gripped you harder, fingers digging into your sensitive flesh through the fabric of your pants.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, voice rough and menacing. "Is that it?" He leaned closer, his hot breath tickling your earlobe as he added, "Or do you need more?" His free hand slid up your chest, gripping the nape of your neck possessively.

The pressure on your body was building, and Zane knew he had you right where he wanted: pinned beneath him, helpless and unable to resist his touch. It was a feeling that made his blood sing with anticipation; he could feel himself growing hard again already. There was no question in his mind now; he would make you suffer for daring to challenge him, and he wouldn't stop until you had learned your place.

Zane stared into your eyes as he increased the pressure on your body, his hold growing tighter with every passing second. He leaned in closer still, breath hot against your cheek as he whispered roughly, "You belong to me." His hand slipped lower, grasping your ass roughly and pulling you harder against him. The heat emanating from his body pressed against yours, and the smell of his sweat made it nearly impossible for you to think straight.

There was no escape; there never had been. Zane knew this game better than you ever could, and he would always win in the end. It was a truth that brought with it a strange sort of comfort - like finally finding your place in the world, even if it meant bowing down to someone else's will. But for now, all you could do was focus on surviving this moment, on somehow managing to please him and earn your reward.

"I don't belong to anyone," you panted out between ragged gasps. "Not even you." But your body was betraying you; it trembled under his touch and arched against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he could so effortlessly give and take away at will. The feel of him above you, possessive and demanding, sent shivers down your spine, making every nerve ending tingle with need.

You closed your eyes, struggling to focus on anything but the sensation of his touch as it drove you further towards the edge. With each stroke of his hand and every brush of his skin against yours, your resolve wavered more and more. It felt so good being with him like this; so right. Maybe if you just gave in, accepted that you belonged to him... maybe then he would make it better for both of you. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it was a dangerous one; giving in now might only make things worse down the line.

"Don't lie," he growled against your ear. "You know it's true." His hand slid further down your body, sliding inside your hard pussy through your pants and giving it a firm squeeze that made you gasp. You arched into his touch, helpless to resist the pleasure his touch ignited within you. Your hips bucked against his hand as he stroked you roughly, thumb rubbing over the head of your cock in small circles.

"You're mine," he whispered, voice rough with desire. "And you always will be." His free hand slid up your chest, gripping your neck possessively as he leaned down to lick at your earlobe, nipping lightly with his teeth. "Just admit it and I'll let you come," he breathed against your skin, the promise of release so close you could taste it on your tongue. But even as you longed for him to give in, to allow you the relief you craved, a small part of yourself refused to relent. It was a game you both knew how to play, after all - and somehow, despite everything, it made this moment that much more intense.

Zane felt your body tense beneath him as you arched into his touch. He groaned, thrusting two fingers deeper inside you while curling his thumb to massage your sweet spot. His free hand gripped the back of your neck tightly, holding you still as he took what he wanted and refused to stop until you surrendered completely. "Say it," he ground out between clenched teeth, breath hot against your ear. His hips began to move roughly against your thigh, fucking his fingers into you as far as they would go. He growled in frustration when you didn't respond, the feeling of having you so close but just out of reach driving him wild with need. "Tell me I'm yours," he demanded, his voice hoarse and rough with lust.

The pleasure built inside you both as your bodies moved together in a desperate dance of dominance and submission. Zane felt the familiar tightening in his stomach as he neared orgasm again, this time from having made you cum first. It was an intoxicating feeling of power that only served to make him want more. But for now, all he could focus on was making sure you understood who you belonged to - and forcing you to say the words.