A/N: You can thank dharmamonkey for the inspiration for this. She has been peppering my Twitter timeline with Angry!Booth pictures for two days and a muse can only look at Angry!Booth so much without jumping him, err, I mean, writing him into a fic. As always, special thanks to sunsetdreamer and some1tookmename, whose enthusiasm for my filthy mind is always appreciated and never taken for granted.

OOOOO

The look that Booth was giving her could have sliced through steel as he leaned forward over her desk, encroaching into her personal space. It was a challenge that any anthropologist would have recognized as threatening but Brennan wasn't budging.

She was staring back just to spite him, her chin thrust defiantly in the air and her own hands placed squarely on the other side of her desk. She could imagine they made quite a tableau; mirror images caught in a stare down that was more sizzling tension than true anger.

His eyes betrayed him first as they flicked down to her lips before meeting her icy blue gaze once more. Sensing him falter, she made her move. She crossed the invisible boundary line that was her desk and prepared to push him back into a retreat.

Booth, on the other hand, had his own battle plan prepared. As soon as she was within reaching distance, he wrenched her into his arms and kissed the Hell out of her. As their hot tongues dueled for dominance, he pressed her into the nearest surface, wanting her fixed underneath him.

When she felt the back of her legs hit her desk, she did the logical thing and wrapped one leg around his waist to remove the obstacle. Booth caught her thigh in his hand and reached for the other one as he pressed forward, shifting her center of gravity so that she was now horizontal.

With her pinned safely between him and the desk, Booth took a chance and broke away long enough to tear her blue lab coat off her body. The satisfying crack of buttons shattering caused her back to arch on its own accord, the fabric from their still clothed hips grinding together in a deliciously erotic way.

Booth shoved her skirt up her waist before he moved on to undo his belt and unzip his fly. With an angry tug, the lace panties she was wearing fell to the ground. There would be no need for further undressing. This wasn't about gratification; it was about keeping her in line.

In one swift motion, Booth pulled her by her thighs to the edge of the desk and directly onto his unyielding cock. Brennan let out a sharp gasp at the unexpected action and bit her lip in response.

Booth swallowed a moan as her molten core sheathed him tightly and instead focused on doling out the punishment for her words. He moved quickly, the raw, primal need within him controlling his hips as he fucked her into submission.

His demanding, intense actions only turned her on more and she hissed in pleasure as he stroked headlong into her.

"Tell me again." He said, his voice strained with anger and his jaw ticking in restraint. "Tell me that you don't need me."

"Booth." She groaned in annoyance, refusing to do any such thing.

"Say it, Bones." He growled, fed up with her independent streak. "Tell me that someone else can make you feel this way, can drive you this crazy, can have you begging for more on your fucking desk the way that I have you right now."

"Booth!" She cried, surprised by his indecent demands.

"Say it and mean it." He dared her. "Convince me."

"No!" She cried, wanting to fight him for control.

"Damn straight no." He whispered, his words burning with the fiery emotions that were consuming him. "And why is that?" He said as he shifted his hips, rubbing her exactly the way she needed.

"Oh fuck..." She cried as she desperately fought to hold on through the haze of pleasure he was inducing within her.

"Tell me why, Bones." He commanded darkly. "Tell me why no one else will do."

"Because I love you!" She cried as her body succumbed to the blinding tremors of ecstasy. Her words and her body pulled him into his own rapture and he exploded within her, splintering his control into a thousand pieces, each one branded with her name.

He already knew that she was his standard, the only woman in the world that would ever compare; but from that moment on, he was going to make damn sure that he was her standard as well.