Amelie/Oliver
Non-con
I don't know why I like non-con so much. It's sexy to me as far as fictional realms go.

Oliver was walking slightly behind Amelie as she led him down a long white hallway. Soon enough this corridor would yield a door upon which hung the Founder's symbol. This was Amelie's office-where Oliver would finally take Amelie and claim her as his own. The anticipation was growing in his stomach, a tight ball of nerves that clenched whenever he thought about finally having Amelie.

Here it was-the office. Just a few feet away.

Amelie looked up at him and began to speak. "Ol-"

He took his opportunity and pushed her into the wall, taking her mouth in his roughly. She seemed so surprised by his sudden actions that she let herself be thrown against the white plaster with a delicate oomph.

However, within the next moment, she was struggling against him, her strength nearly matching his.

Nearly.

Oliver's hands wrapped around her wrists and held them above her head against the wall so that she would be less likely to escape him.

"Oliver," she managed to gasp against their mouths as he continued kissing her reluctant lips, "what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing," he grunted. To quiet her, he pressed his mouth harder against hers.

Next, his hand that wasn't busy holding her hands back went between them and began pushing up her troublesome skirt. She protested by struggling harder, but Oliver only pressed himself against her with more strength.

"Please, if you keep moving, this will only be harder for both of us."

This was all too familiar to Amelie. As a princess back in France, there had been many men who had attempted to possess her this way after she had refused their requests to marry. It brought her pain to see Oliver coming to this too after she had said they would not engage in any romantic relationship while maintaining their political one as well.

"Oliver, stop," she pleaded breathlessly once he stopped devouring her mouth with rushed kisses. He had turned his attention to her skirt and the zipper down its side.

"You'll thank me later," he said with a maleificent glint in his eyes.

This comment angered her. She wanted him away from her now. In another second, he would be too preoccupied with the zipper to think about restraining her properly.

"Why do you wear such difficult clothing t-"

As Oliver went to remove his hands from covering her own, she twisted his and used her force to topple them over, his back colliding roughly with the ground. She was sitting on top of him, straddling his chest and his own hands now pinned above his head by both of hers. Her disheveled appearance was most likely incredulous, but that was not her main focus at the moment.

"How dare you, you filthy, lascivious man," she hissed, leaning down into his face to emphasize her point.

Oliver could only laugh at Amelie and the position she was in at the moment, her silver hair falling around her face and her lips so close to his once again as she made to chastise him.

He licked a quick line down her throat and she jerked back, rage flaring in her eyes. He used this to his advantage and rolled them over so now he was the one on top. Quickly he unzipped her skirt and threw it aside, pulling down her undergarments in the process, tossing them away with the skirt.

"Oliver," she yelled, trying to push him off while kicking her legs beneath him, but he wasn't going anywhere.

Now she was entirely exposed to him and he reached between them and felt her with his fingers, playing with her slit and the bud of nerves above it. Amelie tried to shove him off once more and then went still.

She closed her eyes, a tear falling from one as she did so. "I hate you," she whispered.

"And I'll finally have you."

Oliver undid his trousers and pulled down his pants, his erection prominent and ready to be inside her. He wasted no time as he pushed into her roughly.

Amelie's face twisted in what he thought might be pain and she whimpered slightly as he entered her. She was so tight, Oliver had trouble containing himself. This was one of the beauties of sleeping with small women.

It hurt. He was large and she felt no desire for him. As he began moving inside of her, Amelie realized she could never tell anyone about this. What would it mean to her status as Founder? That she couldn't protect even herself from Oliver? This was going to remain a secret, and if it tore her up and devoured her soul then so be it. No one should ever have to know this occurred.

"Say my name," he muttered as he moved faster. He reached under her shirt and cupped her breast. "Say it." He squeezed it to make his point.

"Oliver," she choked out through a sob. He shouldn't be doing this to her. He was her second and she had made it quite clear that there would be no romantic relationship between them.

She hated him.

Oliver was on the edge, but the way she said his name brought him back down to earth. "I want to make youscream," he growled. "I want you to come for me."

She refused to look at him as her tears streamed down her cheeks while he smirked down at her. Oliver grabbed her hair and turned her face toward his with jerky movements.

"Come for me," he whispered into her ear.

And he began pounding into her faster and faster. As he was nearing his climax, he licked his fingers, reached down and began rubbing her bud of nerves above her entrance that he was smashing against and she began shaking her head, protesting what was about to happen.

"Come on," he grunted.

Amelie began openly sobbing as he felt her own juices lubricate his movements inside of her. "No," she cried, and Oliver's pumping caused her voice to come out distorted and full of unsteadiness. "No."

Oliver came before she did and he came hard. But he wasn't going to stop before she orgasmed too. He pushed faster, in and out as quickly as he could. The sound of his flesh slapping against hers with all of his strength echoed down the hallway. His erection built again and as he was pounding against her, she came.

And she shrieked as she did so, a shriek that shattered his world as he reached a second orgasm that was almost painful to experience, so soon after the first. He was panting as he came down from his high and collapsed on top of her.

"Get off," she said weakly, making an attempt to push him away. Oliver was still inside of her. "You have gotten what you came for."

Oliver sat up and began moving again, the feel of her wetness was encouraging another hard on from him. Between them would be slick with their ejaculation and he would have her screaming again.

"I said off," she hissed, pushing on his shoulders and receiving little affect. "Oliver," she said, becoming frantic that he did not violate her again, the pleading in her voice becoming apparent. "Stop."

But Oliver did not stop. He did not stop until he came for a third time that night and when Amelie was crying into his shoulder as he continued pumping into her tight hole.

He wasn't going to end this. He needed to stop. Amelie did nothing to deserve this. She had never toyed with his affections, nor egged him on, or done anything to provoke him in any way. So why did he want her so badly?

"Please," she begged. "No more."

Oliver laughed darkly and began moving faster within her, burying himself deeper and bringing tears to her eyes. She clenched her muscles and this seemed to ease the pain before she realized that she was only encouraging him. There was an excitement in his eyes that had not been there before when he looked down at her.

"Stop," she insisted weakly. "You're hurting me." Her plea was hardly more than a whisper now.

He was pushing so far into her that, instinctively, she reached down and held on to his hips, trying to slow his pumps. This contact made him groan as he continued thrusting into her, grunting now as he did so.

"Scream."

"You sicken me."

But when Amelie felt Oliver stroke her above her entrance, she couldn't help but gasp. She was already sensitive from her climax earlier, but this, admittedly, brought her close to coming-like Oliver wanted. Amelie was doing her hardest not to give in.

The circles he was rubbing around her clitoris had passed that line of pain and was beginning to toe the line of pleasure.

"Scream."

That word brought her over the edge and she did as she orgasmed with him still pushing into her and massaging her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her nails raked down his back as she tried to muffle her shriek into the flesh on his shoulder. Her scream was full of anger yet pleasure, hate but also passion, and disgust and still satisfaction. Her moans of ecstasy and pain and regret and hatred died out as Oliver removed himself from her and pulled up his pants and trousers.

Amelie was panting, her skirt was gone, and her hair was a complete mess. The Founder had been degraded to nothing but a victim of a lusty man's affections this evening and that's how Oliver would remember her forever. The image burned itself happily onto the back of his mind as he opened a portal and stepped through without so much as a good-bye.