Of Coquettes & Boundaries: "I will only say this one time"

I knew this moment was coming but I didn't eat earlier so I'm more angry and irritated than I would be.
I ***** and talk with another girl, dark hair, not American, so that when she comes back in the room she'll be aware.
I knew my passive tolerance/tacit acceptance of her flirtatious ways would become a problem eventually, but I determined if I faced the battle early on she would fight rather than capitulate.
I have been waiting and building up my collateral so that when the time came to fight the good fight, I would do so from a more reliable position.

I see now that it's line in the sand drawing time.
I do not make a scene. In fact, I do not say much while we are in public, but it's clear I am displeased.
I do not show my anger but I am distant b/c I simply can't quite put on the glib face I would normally.

We get in the car and she has some girl radar sense that once we are not in public, words will not be minced. She draws out and avoids getting into the car. She knows on some level what is coming. We are dancing figuratively as we each try to outwit and maneuver one another.

The door shuts, I start the car, take a half breath, and pause: "I want you to listen very carefully, because I will only say this one time. I'm not angry, nor am I upset, but if you ever treat me like that in public again it will be the last time. Do I make myself clear?"

She of course feigns ignorance but I clarify my expectations and though she is tipsy it is not acceptable. I do not look her in the eyes, I adopt my jacket of indifference as though I am disappointed in a child or a pet whom I thought would know better. My voice belies an utter willingness to leave her as I found her, and that some things are simply non-fucking-negotiable.

She swears she is not interested in anyone else, and that it's harmless.
I tell her this is fine, and if I felt she had eyes elsewhere, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.
She latches onto my arm and does what they always do in these moments. I am unmoved. I am cool, calm, disassociated acceptance and the like.
When her curled up on my arm doesn't work, she does the second thing they always do in these moments in an attempt to ameliorate the situation: she appeals to my dick.

It's so predictable I could set my watch to it. Her feminine wiles do not sway me as I drive more aggressively than usual to my place and her car. She has to feel the dread that I simply want to get away from her as quickly as possible. She grips my arm tighter as we get to my place.

I must also wait for her to suggest the limits on her flirting that I want. I am not wont to tell a woman or to be a domineering man 90% of the time. I want it to come from her lips, from her being the limitations she will place on herself as that way they will carry more strength.
She begs me to stay at my place and I do not answer for a time. Her tiny hands clutch my arm and she is 100% woman in this moment. I, the taciturn, unmoved man, donned in my armor of a hundred fold interactions with women and their capriciously tempestuous ways.

I say "let's go" and carry her inside. She waivers because she fears I'm going to make her leave.

She quickly climbs into bed and stares at me vampishly, her eyes roving over me as I undress.
I do not wish to cave but I do and we have sex because she wants to placate me and I want to assert my dominance over her. She tells me she loves my hand around her throat and how much she loves going down on me.
She says she doesn't want girls calling me or texting me, so she will be better about boundaries with her flirting. I want to believe her but inwardly I do not place much stock in this new investment. I am cautiously optimistic, but not out of authentic expectation, rather....simply.....hope.

Afterward, she curls up with her head on my chest, her hair tickling my face, and she collapses into me.
Before she falls asleep she suggests the boundaries I want her to and reiterates her devotion to me and to us.

I fall asleep running my fingers through her long, dark hair.

       - Good luck and happy hunting,
             - Yrs. in Christ