Dilemma

Author's Notes: Lemme start out by saying that this story has been haunting me for about a week now. It was easy to write, don't get me wrong. But it was difficult me to start writing it because I wasn't sure if I wanted to. It's graphic and a little twisted, and somewhere in there [hopefully] pleasurable. I've always thought that writing was an extension of the person and so when I thought of writing this, I was kind of…shocked.

Shocked because I wondered if this was how I wanted sex to be like. If I did, was I twisted and weird just as the story I had written? So the scene also takes in on my conflict on this. But it's strange. It was SO easy for me to write this that it frightened me, as if it was coming straight out of some hidden hole in my heart.

I hope that somehow you enjoy it and that somehow, don't think of it as a reflection of my entire person.

I decided to opt out on my usual summary line. I think it should speak for itself.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy 7.

Despite the very submissive position, Tifa felt powerful. In some way, she had brought down the most powerful man in the world.

She moans loudly for a dual purpose. She enjoys it and the sounds just tear out of her throat. It also spurs him into pumping harder, serving to increase her arousal.

His rough hands possessively grab her hips, ensuring that they meet every strong thrust of his hips. His knees drive next to hers, spreading her wider apart. The floor beneath her feels like its shaking. She holds on though, tightly with her hands curled into fists and digging into the ground as if it could somehow maintain her balance.

She knows she won't fall though, not with Cloud holding her the way he is. Tifa enjoys peeking over her shoulder in that heated moment. She relishes that he is so lost in the pleasure. There he is, head tossed back and unseeingly staring at her. Blue eyes turned brighter by the lust raging like a torrent in their depths. Enjoys the deep gasps and groans and the struggle for air.

His fingers clasp her hips too tightly but she can't focus on it when he is driving into her. Silken heat and moisture pooling around and it drives her insane. He groans and sneers. Cloud's fingers release her hips and cups her breasts from behind her.

Tifa looks ahead and closes her eyes as the pleasure rapidly increases.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She chants. His fingers knead her large breasts, his breath harsh against her air. He is rough with her and she loves it. His thumbs flick her nipples and she feels like she should just scream. Moans and groans and the chanting of his name isn't enough anymore to fully express the pleasure she feels. Screaming seems more fitting.

And he slams his hips against her roughly as he again widens her opening. He presses his chest to her back and drives into her. Her body is only kept from touching the floor by his hands. In the eyes of a stranger, if they had happened to see this, would only know the dominance he exuded while committing this act.

Despite the power Cloud was exuding, it was she that brought him on his knees. It was she that pressed the kisses that brought the fire in his eyes. For days she played with him, slightly out of reach, in order to break him apart. Break his ever tight chains on his body and soul in order to get him to just damn break.

She wanted the deepest and darkest side of him in this way. Wanted to know, down to her toes and in her bones, that he wanted her. Needed to know that it was he that needed her to satisfy the hunger in his soul.

His lips press rough kisses to her shoulder blades and he nibbles on her ear. The force of his pumps crest her pleasure again. There are stars in her eyes. It is a high that she never wanted to abandon.

He was hard everywhere to the touch. From where his chest met her back, to his knees pressing her legs apart. To his hands kneading her breasts and his lips against her neck. And most especially, his erect shaft slipping in and out of her heat.

In and out, in and out. It was all she could focus on. Eventually, he stopped and it wasn't because he had become spent. No. He lifted her up roughly, snarling in her ear. It shot hot white pleasure through her spine, and if possible heightened her arousal for him just a bit more. He placed her on her bed face down.

His hands released her and she held tightly onto the sheets. Tifa braced herself. His hands were back on her hips and his legs forced her legs even wider apart. As wide as she could possibly be spread. Cloud shoved the pillows out of the way of the headboard so that she was flat on the mattress. He straightened his back and she looked up to see him clasping the headboard. And then he started again.

So utterly deep he went. And such high pace that she felt like perhaps this was a wild dream induced by drugs [not that she'd taken any].

She basked in the pleasure and the knowledge. But there was wonder in the depths of her mind too. When she laid spent next to him, she wondered and began to doubt. He curled his arm around her and kissed her tenderly.

She knows he loves her. Heavens and the world knew that she loved him. But moments like these when she played these games in order to force such rough treatment of her, she wondered if she had a problem.

Tifa loved it when he gave up control. Loved it when he grasped her hard, as if she was the last rope left to hang onto. Enjoyed the fierce pumping of his hips like an engine that rotated at high speeds to fly. Enjoyed the hardness that stabbed inside of her that bought a mix of pleasure and pain.

Was she sick? Why did she want such brutality?

In the end, Tifa decides that it's okay. Perhaps she has a deep and dark side in her as well. A side of her that wants to do it like animals. Wants to do it like he was an actual wolf, so much like his symbol and she his willing mate.

Also because when he awakes, he gives her a shy and sheepish smile. It was if he never acknowledged that she had forced the rough treatment of herself and her body. It is even better because when Cloud makes love to her, it is soft and sweet and just as pleasurable as her small and crazy moments when she wants him to nearly bruise her hips and take what he wants.

He kisses her softly and his touch is gentle. It is nothing like the earlier treatment. He skims all parts of her body and gives equal attention to the dips and curves and the flat planes. His voice is soft when he moans. And when he slips inside of her, he is gentle. So utterly gentle that it makes her want to cry because it was so beautiful and sweet and somehow very fragile. She wanted to protect it all.

And this was pleasurable too. And Tifa figures not to dwell on her dilemma of her sick tendencies because it meant that the most powerful man on the planet was hers. She was going to be the only one to see all of his sides, no matter how dark it was. She was going to brace herself for it, and even occasionally enjoy it. But it was the man who was tender with her that she loved the most.

Sick tendencies be damned.