Sprawled on the desk, Yamashita's hands pushed down on the wood, but her efforts to straighten were prevented by Cervantes' greater strength as he simply forced her down again when she tried to rise. With his hand in her hair, her cheek pressed against the sanded grain, her hands ended up palm down, fingers curled against the desk as if she could claw her way through it. There was no mistaking his intention, and she shivered, aware of the provocative position of her body, curved buttocks on display, her toes barely touching the floor with her body bent doubled over. Her dark hair spilled over her back and across the desk, pale skin contrasting in the shadowed light of the cabin.<br/><br/>She did not offer any resistance, simply waited for the inevitable, teeth set in her lower lip to avoid giving him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. Although this wasn't the first time she'd had her dignity assaulted during this awful and bloody civil war, it was the first time she'd been touched by a man in that way in years.