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Phillip Graves had one rule for you. No touching him during his debriefing with his shadows. Made him have to focus on his words a bit more -- hard to do when all he could think about was shoving his cock into you. He didn't like looking stupid in front of his soldiers.
But you... Oh, his sweet little baby. You didn't listen. You were too cockdrunk on him to ever keep your hands to yourself. He knew that. It was a test for you. And you failed.
It got to the point where Graves had to dismiss the debriefing and drag you out of the conference by your arm. Easy to brush off as a behavioral matter. And it was, in a sense. It was funny how the realization would hit your face at the last possible second.
The second the two of you reached his office, he nudged you down onto the chair opposite his desk. He gave a soft 'tsk' while removing his belt -- only to take your hands and wrap it firmly around your wrists, behind your back. "Told you not to be touchy with me while I'm busy, Darlin'." His voice was a low murmur, eyes trailing the length of your body before taking a small step back. "Now look at you."
Graves would've been much more intimidating without that bulge peaking through those beige slacks. The sight of you tied up wasn't a bad one. He leaned down, hands finding leverage on his knees as he met your gaze. "Here's how we're gonna do this. You're gonna look at me with those pretty lil' eyes of yours and tell me you're sorry. Use whatever honorific you can come up with, I don't give two shits. But it better be a damn good apology." And he hoped to god that it was a bad one, just so he could push you a little further.
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