F*ck Toy: A Dominatrix Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Sybil Swift

  “Don’t. Make. A. Sound.”

  He looked as if he would make a noise, but when she guided the tip of him against the lips of her cunt she muttered a curse as a tight spike of bliss made her spine bow against the slippery tile at her back. Her fingers cramped, body so close. Every breath was a distraction toward her one track road to ultimate pleasure. She massaged and tweaked her nipples, harder and harder, until she wasn’t entirely sure she was being quiet anymore. But she barely cared, she was so close to orgasm.

  “Fuck,” she muttered as her fantasy self traced Noah’s cock back and forth across her dripping slit before she caught his desperate gaze and lowered herself half onto his cock.

  Chloe watched his face twist with a kind of panic, a grunt caught in his chest. To his credit, he didn’t make a sound, but she eased back, and pressed down quick enough for air to hiss between his teeth. She clicked her tongue but savored the heady, heavy press of him teasing her opening with every slip and slide of her hips.

  “I like that, doesn’t matter that you don’t,” Chloe muttered as she tracked her hand down from taunting her breasts to grab her clit between two fingers pinching tight until she gasped. With swift beats of her fingers she massaged, plucked, and pinched her clit in sync with her fingers fucking into her tight, inner walls. Every second brought her closer to the brink. She couldn’t catch her breath, leaning against the shower wall with Noah’s cock the only thing on her mind as she rode him in her fantasy, but never slid all the way down.

  In her mind he started to whimper but he never writhed, never so much as jerked beneath her teasing. Such a good boy. All of the power was hers for the taking, he was wholly under her spell. Every second was a heady drug. Her limbs were strained with the knowledge that he was at her whim, every single second of his pleasure was her call. Power like nothing she had ever known, confidence built by the knowledge that he trusted her to take him to sensual place where “no” was never an option.

  “Oh, God. Fuck. Oh, God, yes,” Chloe hissed to herself while in her mind she watched her fantasy play out. His hard fists were vibrating with the strength she imagined it took to hold himself still beneath her sensual onslaught, he was practically twitching. But she barely rode him, her gaze gliding down every slick muscle of his body while he went rigid and his hips fought not to pound into her center. “I’m going to come, Noah. I’m going to come so hard. You have my permission to go to town as soon as I do, do you understand?”

  He made a gruff, masculine noise, gaze flashing with a mixture of pleasure and predatory heat. His nostrils flared, thigh muscles bunched as she barely gave him a second to breathe before she slid him all the way to the hilt inside her pussy. His neck muscles strained, but he kept his mouth zipped shut and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

  Chloe nearly crumpled to the floor of the shower under the weight of her orgasm. Pleasure shot through her limbs until her scent overwhelmed the bathroom and her heart catapulted in her chest. She thought she might pass out. Wave after wave pressed beneath her skin, with nowhere to go the adrenaline tightened into her muscles and twisted into an ecstasy bordering on pain. Her mind blanked. She was left alone with the teasing trickle of cooling water flowing down her skin while she tried to catch her breath hoping that Noah hadn’t heard her escapade from upstairs.

  “Yeah, no. I don’t regret a thing.” A little giggle eased past her lips and she bit her fist still scented like her. “I need to do more of that.”

  With a subtle shake of her head, she turned off the water, dried herself off, and made the trek downstairs to get clothes. In the end, curiosity was a determining factor. Because, really, at this point, what the hell would he bring to the table next? With a house full of spiritual books, no cable, internet, or anything not self-help related, Noah was as good as it got when it came to entertainment—and the after sex glow wasn’t shabby either.

  It wasn’t until she was halfway down the stairs that she recalled she hadn’t exactly gotten clean during their shower.

  Chapter Nine

  “Dinner, madam?”

  Chloe blinked—and blinked again. Nope, none of the trillions of candles set up on every available surface were a product of a hallucination. Half of them were storm candles, ugly, half-stubs dripping wax onto the carpet, but the gesture was more than appreciated. She crossed her arms around her middle and scuffed her socked foot across the carpet. Noah had set up the living room table laden with their reheated dinner. He broke a piece of bread and shoved it in his mouth. His eyebrows shot up as her chewed.

  “You’ve got to be hungry.”

  Dinner’s aroma was just as beckoning as it had been before they’d taken their beach and shower hiatus, but the candles golden glow playing across his upper body transfixed her gaze. How had she been granted the pleasure of this hot hunk all to herself for so long? She swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

  “What? You don’t like picnics? I even picked out a .007 flick from my personal stash to play on my laptop. I figured a shoot ‘em up movie was as good any anti-man therapy in a chick flick. Chick flicks don’t have nearly enough blood and sarcasm. Is that enough to woo you to my side or do I need to carry you over here?”

  It wasn’t a date. Far from it when Noah laughed and slurped his noodles like a toddler. He was doing it on purpose. Not sexy, and not sexy was good. Perfect, actually. Just two acquaintances enjoying each other’s company while inhaling good, homemade food. Nothing to it.

  “Which Bond?”

  “Daniel Craig.”

  A nearly naked, well-muscled, delicious Englishman to switch her focus from all the naughty activities they’d been up to in the past several hours? Craig was a welcome distraction. All of her naughty thoughts would be tied up in his gritty, shoot ‘em up underworld instead of the kind, confusing man across the table.

  “Sold.”

  Noah got up to rearrange his personal laptop on a chair that faced their makeshift dinner, and pressed a few keys. Noah mumbled across the table. She forked in another mouthful, keeping her ear trained on Noah, and her eyes glued to the screen.

  More low murmuring from his direction. But when she shot him a look he shot her one right back. As if she’d imagined the noises. Reeling in her mouth so it didn’t hang open like a fish, Chloe took a sip of wine, and focused back on the movie. Fine, be that way. But she’d get to the bottom of the noise, without question. And three minutes later she had her answer.

  “You know this movie by heart. You’re quoting the lines under your breath like some .007 junkie freak right now! I can’t believe you’ve seen the movie that many times.” She laughed around the rim of her wineglass before thinking better of her next sip and putting it out of harm’s way on the table.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Noah begrudgingly admitted tearing off another large hunk of bread with his teeth.

  How the man could eat so many carbs while maintaining an upper body like an Adonis was one of the world’s greatest mysteries, up there with how the pyramids were built and how Stonehenge still stood. Noah sat as tall and svelte. She wanted to pelt him in the face with her half of a roll, but it would be a waste of homemade bread. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d throw back, merely claim finder’s-keeper’s before munching on it.

  “Didn’t say there was, it’s simply another sparkling facet of your personality,” Chloe replied with a sarcastic grin that spread across her whole face.

  “Now that comment, my friend, is worthy of praise. Rather like something that would come out of my mouth, not yours.”

  “I’m awesome like that.”

  “Wouldn’t that be awesome like me? Since I gave you inspiration and am only rubbing off on you in bad, horrid ways?”

  Chloe suppressed her deep, dark need to quip about how good his rubbing her actually was before she inflated his ego anymore.

  “What do you like? Aside from Bond films, tussling on the beach, and propositioning strangers?” Chloe smiled with an air of chall
enge.

  Noah got oddly serious before he licked his lips and leaned back against the couch. His fingers drummed idly on his thighs. Did he have to make something up or what? Chloe merely waited swirling her fork around some more mac with no intention of putting the bite into her mouth.

  “I suppose if you’re spending so much time here, you should get to know me. It being the polite thing to do. But I’ll warn you, there isn’t much to this pretty package.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes and sat back too.

  “The man who knows everything is now claiming he’s without a brain?”

  “Didn’t quite say that, only that—”

  “Will you stop trying to distract me and answer the question you incorrigible flirt?”

  “Fine. I enjoy mysteries, rain, surprises, classical music and hope to someday build a giant Mario and Yoshi out of peanut M&M’s. Enough for you Miss Dating Show?”

  “An M&M showpiece?”

  “Childhood dream. I’m too stubborn to let it go. You’re turn.”

  “Um…”

  “See, not so easy being on the spot, is it?”

  “I compulsively avoid the news, newspapers, and all news-like entities except around election time because it gives me an anxiety attack. I’ve been seeing a shrink since I was old enough to talk. And I re-paint my bedroom every two years.”

  “Are any of those things enjoyable for you? They don’t sound like you like them, more like they’re coping mechanisms or something.”

  He shot a skeptical look her way and cleared his throat.

  “What do you like, like. Not what do you do out of habit.”

  Wow, he just didn’t know when to give up. Chloe took a deep breath and harnessed her inner—chai—or whatever the hell, before replying.

  “I like turtles, anything that smells like baked goods, fresh fruit, fall weather, and I tend to read books of the young adult persuasion.”

  “So all that gossip-y, sparkly vampires, private school shit?”

  “You lumped about nine books together in that sentence, but no, there’s a lot more to YA than teen drama and a big paycheck.”

  “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “I can’t explain it. There not just easy reads because that’s a cop out and it downgrades all the hard work authors have put into them—but a lot of the time they are more pure of heart, they go straight to the emotion and yank it out of a readers chest by force.”

  “Sounds like publishing is maybe something you should have looked into judging by that la-la land doe eyed look on your face. And to think, I thought the look was aimed at me. Dodged that bullet.”

  “Are you ever serious?”

  If she hadn’t been watching him from across the table she may have missed his barely visible deflation, before he pinned back his shoulders and tacked back on his infamous grin.

  “Very rarely and only when I have to be.”

  Well, that answered that. Unable to grope for another topic before he took offense, she settled for clearing her place at the table and slip-sliding on her socks into the kitchen. His protests from the other room were ignored. In fact, she turned the faucet to a higher water pressure to drown him out. He’d spent all this time treating her as a guest, meanwhile they boned on the side like college fuck buddies. Everything was all muddled—she needed a second.

  The lines were clear. They were both enjoying each other’s company. But how could she continue to do that while he traipsed around doing sweet things and claimed they were hotel services rendered? What a mindfuck. Especially when she could count on one finger the number of times that her ex had taken the time to think about what she wanted, to surprise her, or even flirt. God, yeah, think about him again. Real good strategy for a solid, healthy breakup. She dunked her hands into the soapy suds she’d made in the sink and dreaded going back out there down to her pinkie toes.

  Noah made it too damn easy to like him—and she didn’t want to like any man, least of all him.

  “You okay in there? Fall and hit your head?”

  His voice was punctuated by the door swinging open and her body was immediately aware of him like unstoppable, stupid chemical reaction gone wrong. Muscles she didn’t know she had tightened in odd places. Until she gripped the sink for dear life while he hovered behind her.

  “I can finish up. You go sit down and finish watching the movie,” he quietly coaxed, not laying a finger on her, and she was grateful for the small respite.

  “I need to finish something. I can’t just sit here and let you handle—”

  “Chloe, go sit. I’ll let you do something next meal, promise.”

  Her shoulders slumped and the undeniable rage that she wanted to explode out of her only simmered on the surface. Useless, painful, and inert—like a large part of her life had been as one half of her relationship. Christ, it hadn’t been okay for a long time. Why had she stayed for so long? She unhooked her trembling hands from their white knuckled grip on the sink and turned without looking at him. Thankfully, Noah only shifted back toward her place at the sink and kept silent as she pushed through the door back into the living room.

  She sunk into the couch with a thump. Her eyes trained to the screen and the epic action sequence that was taking place. But none of it registered as the impact of her failed relationship hit home with an intimacy she’d been happily avoiding through alcohol, over-planning, and an intense flirtation with the man in the other room. If anything, Noah made it worse. He highlighted all the things she used to look for in a man and slapped her in the face with all the qualities she’d settled for in the end.

  How could she have lived with herself for so long knowing that all the choices she made were only reactionary defensive maneuvers to combat her mother’s insanity? A simple question about what she liked had turned into a list of things she’d trained herself to do. Habitual chores that made her home life smoother and more manageable. But nothing truly enjoyable, by any means. A lick of frost stiffened her spine. Heaven help her if she was paving down the same road as her mother—and would someday reach her final destination at the corner of bitter and crazy.

  Her mother meant well—deep down—but it was Chloe’s own damn fault for being unable to take the reins of her life for so long. And who knew if it was too late? Without her ex she had no one to hold her back and no one to push her forward either. All self-momentum. And the sheer magnitude of the idea made her want to heave onto the carpet. Planning—she could do. That entailed baby steps and logical order without any kind of weird chaos into the mix.

  But making choices without worry that the world would collapse at the slightest mistake? Granted, she’d made a choice when she decided to slap her mother with an extra thousand dollar bill for sending her here. And she’d embraced fucking her housemate like she was being auditioned for a reality TV primetime slot—but those choices had seemed easier somehow. Why?

  Chloe curled into herself, eyes still on the movie while her intense introspection continued onward like a stop motion camera of badness.

  “You okay over there?”

  When she didn’t answer—both unsure, and unable to speak past her tightening throat—he shuffled his feet against the carpet. She heard the habitual motion and silently bet herself a fiver that he’d shoved his hands in his pj pants pockets too.

  That he was so readable already brought unexpected comfort. But was it what she wanted or was it convenient?

  He continued to move around her, silent, and she kept her distance inside her head. Until he slid something across her lap and she looked up into his unreadable dark chocolate eyes. Noah didn’t say a word. He removed his hand from the wrapped parcel at her lap, licked his lips, and nodded. When he went into his room only then did she come to the fact that the movie had ended, the laptop was off, and a majority of the candles had been snuffed out.

  “What an ass you are,” she muttered before picking up the slightly heavy bundle wrapped in pale pink tissue paper with the faint scent of lavender and a tiny mage
nta ribbon.

  Her hands peeled at the wrapping to be polite, more than anything. Her heart really wasn’t into receiving anything from anyone—Noah was no exception. As the wrappings fluttered to her lap she lifted out a note card with a message done by a sloping, curlicue female hand. Little flowers were used to dot the “i’s” and the tail end of all the “t’s” were peace signs. Chloe snuggled harder into the couch, grabbed the afghan off the back of it, and covered herself while she shuffled around the tied together bundle that looked to be a bunch of papers, a journal, and a pen.

  Her eyes lingered on the note card, until she could blink back enough of her stinging tears to read it.

  Absolute silence leads to sadness. It is the image of death.—Jean-Jacques Rousseau

  With this in mind, if you can’t speak among friends in our group about your loss, please don’t hesitate to voice your sadness onto these pages. We hope you find it in some way cleansing, because when there is no one else, at least there is yourself.

  Listen, reflect, feel. Don’t be afraid—and don’t suffer your heartbreak and bitterness in silence. However you choose to voice it, whether that be with a whimper, a scream, or a pen.

  Begin your journey.

  Chloe cradled her forehead in her palm, glancing down at the words reading them over again and again. As much as she wanted to condemn the odd gift as hippie hogwash, she couldn’t deny the buildup of emotions that she’d only pushed away these last two days. All in the pretext of refusing to hand her ex anymore power over her mind. Yet, the more she refused to reflect, the sooner he bubbled to the surface. Every single action Noah took, she’d immediately compared it to her ex—whether conscious of it or not—and that wasn’t healthy. Just because she was sleeping with someone else, didn’t mean she’d moved on from anything. Rebound sex was a replacement emotion, not a solution.