Kiss her!

The living room is sunken, a couple of steps leading down from the kitchen. Wonder Woman is a couple inches taller than you even when she’s not on her tiptoes, but with you standing behind her on the higher floor her head is level with yours. Your gaze still locked on those bottomless blue eyes, your hand in her hair gently presses her face towards yours. But when there’s maybe a millimeter left between your lips, she pulls back. “Erotic fantasies notwithstanding, don’t for a second pretend this is in any way consensual.”

You pause. “Well…yeah. That’s kinda the point.”

She turns her head away and you can practically hear her roll her eyes. “Pathetic. Any man whoooooMMMMMMMM!” Whatever scolding she was about to launch is lost as you close your fist in her hair, twist her head towards you, and press your lips against hers. She doesn’t return the kiss, but she doesn’t exactly fight it either. Nor does she pull away. The lasso again? Or her subconscious?

You break lip lock and kiss her cheek as she turns her head away again. “A man who has to take his women by **** cannot know how to truly pleasure a woman.” Her tone is angry, but she’s also slightly out of breath.

“See, that’s what your type always gets wrong.” You brush her black mane back, leaving her graceful neck exposed. “I don’t have to take my women by ****. I just prefer to.” You begin kissing your way down her neck. “I have consensual sex too; it just doesn’t compare to the rush of taking a woman against her will.”

“Despicable man!” she spits.

Smiling to yourself, you suddenly yank her hair, pulling her head back and down. “I prefer depraved, but whatever” you whisper in her ear, following it up with a nibble to her earlobe. She starts to say something in response but her earlobe must be sensitive because she clamps her lips closed to stop whatever sound she was about to make.

“As for you,” you continue, “I guarantee you’re going to enjoy being taken.” Your free arm wraps around her waist and pulls her body back against yours. “You see, there are women who like to be dominated.” She stays silent and stoic, staring straight ahead while your hand explores her taut stomach. “And of course, there are women that prefer to do the dominating.” You let go of her hair and reach around to gently stroke her cheek, while you kiss her bare shoulder. “And that’s fine. But in my experience…” The hand on her stomach slides up to her ribs. “The more a woman likes to dominate, the bigger the rush she’s going to get from being dominated for the first time.”

Your breath is hot on the back of her neck. Her body squirms, reacting to the sensual situation even while its owner pretends not to.

“This…” she has to pause and swallow before she can continue. “This has gone far enough.” Your one hand traces a finger along the top of her bustier where it now sits below her naked tits. You run your other hand up her bare arms stretched up over her head, your fingertips barely brushing her skin. “You have given me…much to think about. For that, I am willing to overlook your transgressions. If you release us now.”