Playing for Real: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 5

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Playing for Real: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 5 Page 7

by Natasha Moore


  When he reached her hips, he pulled her skirt up. Julianne felt the cooling air more strongly on her bare intimate flesh. His fingers skimmed her slick folds and she tilted her hips to get closer to him. “You are so wet, cara.”

  “You made me this way,” she said. “It’s all for you.”

  “I am glad.” He grasped her tightly between her legs. “This is mine, yes?”

  She nodded. Closed her eyes. She couldn’t see much anyway.

  “Answer me, Julianne. This body. All of it.” He kept the one hand cupping her pussy. He collared her throat with his other hand, pinning her to the blanket. “This body is mine to do with as I wish. Yes? You are giving it to me.”

  His words rolled sensuously over her skin. “Yes,” she whispered. “Take me, sir. I’m yours.”

  “Wonderful.” He released his hold on her throat and she whimpered at the loss of the light pressure that reminded her of his dominance. “I am going to take care of you, cara.” He lowered his body to the blanket and replaced his hand with his mouth. A long, wet lick brought her hips off the blanket. Too soon the licks and nibbles brought her close to orgasm. Her panting grew louder and he had to stop what he was doing to remind her to keep quiet.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. She ran her tongue over her lips to get some moisture back into them. Her clit was throbbing. Her blood was pounding in her ears, and she couldn’t hear anything but her pulse and her panting. Her universe had narrowed down to her body and what he was doing to her. What was he doing now? When he didn’t return his attention to her pussy, she moaned.

  He chuckled lightly. “Patience.” She glanced up and saw that he’d unzipped his jeans just enough to release his cock and was rolling on a condom. He shifted between her legs and set his mouth on her again. It didn’t take long for him to bring her to the brink, but he must have been able to tell when she was close, to read her body and her reactions so well that he knew when to pull away before she could climax. She moaned, her eyes still closed, her lips parted as her breathing grew heavier, louder.

  Then he licked her again, lightly drawing his tongue along her sensitive flesh. Too lightly. She was almost there. Almost.

  Then Paolo rose up and thrust into her in one long stroke. In the next moment, he yanked on the chain attached to the nipple clamps and her orgasm exploded. He must have known what would happen because he captured her mouth with his and muffled the cries of completion she wasn’t able to stop.

  He continued his thrusts, building a rhythm that matched hers. His heavy breaths fed hers, his long strong strokes kept her climax from falling off completely. Her fingers clutched the leather belt, but even though she longed to throw her arms around him, she kept them above her head where he wanted them to be.

  He tugged on the chain attached to the nipple clamps she’d almost forgotten about. “Don’t scream.”

  Don’t scream?

  He picked up the speed of his thrusts, momentum building, strokes becoming rough and jerky. Then he released the nipple clamps and as blood rushed back into her nipples, Julianne gasped so hard she lost her breath. Fire shot from her nipples into her chest and down to her clit. The second orgasm hit her by surprise and the violent contractions from the climax squeezed him as he thrust deeper, harder, faster.

  Paolo stiffened and groaned, her mouth muffling his cries this time. She couldn’t resist any longer and let go of the belt, then threw her arms around him, holding him close. Even through his shirt, his back was hot against her palms. His chest hard against hers. Their breaths mingled as the kiss lingered and their bodies moved as one.

  Eventually he pushed up and off of her. She lay there while he took care of the condom and zipped back up. He looked as put together as always while her dress was shoved down and pushed up. But she never considered moving, adjusting, or covering up. She stayed in place and waited.

  But Paolo didn’t help her up, didn’t tell her she could get dressed. He stroked her shoulder, swept her hair back from her face. He picked up his belt where she dropped it. “Relax,” he murmured. He brushed his hand along her bare skin, cupped a breast and ran a finger over her thigh, along her throat before he slipped the belt back through the loops.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “No.” Julianne felt she could never be cold when she was with Paolo. The heat from his body, the fire from his gaze, would always keep her warm. Still, he helped her straighten her dress, button the bodice and pull down the skirt while she was still stretched out on the blanket.

  It was very dark now where they were surrounded by the tall trees. If the moon was out, she couldn’t see it. Paolo stretched out beside her on the blanket and took her hand. “Look at the stars, cara.”

  She looked up through the small clearing in the branches and gasped softly at the sparkling lights against the dark sky. “Oh how pretty.”

  Paolo squeezed her hand. “Not as pretty as you.”

  Her heart melted from the simple words, the soft squeeze. So many times her body had melted for Paolo, but now her heart was getting in on the act. Her heart wasn’t supposed to get involved.

  “I used to watch the stars with my father,” he said softly.

  “You mean like this? Or with a telescope?”

  “With a telescope. He built a deck up on the roof of the house so he could bring the telescope up there. He can sit for hours up there and when I was younger I would sometimes keep him company. He can tell you the name of all the constellations, and I can probably tell you many as well, just from listening to him.”

  “Did you like looking at the stars too?”

  He chuckled softly. “Not really. I just liked to spend time with him.” Paolo picked up their joined hands and dropped a kiss to her fingers. “Tonight I am enjoying looking at the stars. With you.”

  And her heart melted a little bit more.

  By Sunday afternoon, Julianne had written up her estimate for The Finishing Touch and emailed it to Ingrid. Then she dug into Olsens’ project. The dining room was almost finished. She’d found a sleek shelving unit for the one blank wall. It should be delivered on Tuesday and ready to be filled with objects the Olsens had collected over the years.

  She’d managed to fill her mind with so much work that she didn’t think about Paolo for several hours. But there was still that empty space above the sideboard in the Olsens’ dining room and she remembered the unique artwork at the Playhouse. She’d mentioned to him earlier that she might contact him about buying some of his work for clients. That was before she knew she’d be seeing him so often. Before she agreed to play dates and dinner dates. Before safe words and rituals.

  Before he seduced her with a picnic dinner and sex beneath the stars.

  She could talk to him about the painting when she saw him tomorrow. But Monday night was a play date. Julianne still didn’t want to mix her real life with her sessions with Paolo. She reached for the phone.

  He answered immediately. “Julianne.” Just the sound of him saying her name sent a wave of calm over her body, relaxing her. And she hadn’t even realized how frantically she’d been working all day. And how much she wanted to hear his voice.

  “Hi. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

  “Not at all. Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. I’m doing some work and—”

  “You are working on a Sunday afternoon?”

  “Um…yeah.” What else would she be doing?

  “It is a beautiful day. You should be enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Or visiting with friends or family. Sunday should be a day of rest.”

  “Paolo, nobody rests on Sunday anymore.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “So what day do you take for rest?”

  “I rest. I just don’t take a whole day for it. You must understand how it is when you run your own business. You have to work constantly to keep up.”

  “Not constantly, Julianne.” The soft reprimand in his voice made her stomach
clench.

  Defensively, she lashed out. “Look, I called to ask about a painting for a client, but if you’re going to judge me, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “Cara. Let me pick you up and we will take a drive and you can tell me what you need.”

  She wanted that way too much. “I don’t know if I should. I have too much work to do.”

  “A drive. To get you out of that apartment and away from work for a little while. And I will admit to being selfish and wanting to see you again.”

  “Monday night seems like a long way away, doesn’t it?”

  “I will take that for a yes.” She could hear the pleasure in his voice. “I will be there soon.”

  “Okay.” She disconnected the call and had to wonder if that wasn’t what she’d hoped for, deep inside. To see him again. She shouldn’t be looking forward to being with him again so soon. What about her decision to keep her time with Paolo separate from the rest of her life? All those boxes she’d tried to stack so neatly? What did she want out of this relationship? Only bondage sex or did she want more? Did she want lazy Sunday afternoons with Paolo?

  When she buzzed him in and opened the door, his commanding presence called to the submissive inside her. Then he smiled at her and her heart stuttered in her chest. Yes, she wanted more time with Paolo.

  She liked him. She might even be falling for him. But how did she know if what she felt was for the man? Or the Dom?

  The warm, sunny afternoon was perfect for another ride in his Jeep. Julianne seemed to relax before his eyes as they drove out to the park again. He hadn’t felt so light-hearted in a long time as when he took her hand and they strolled lazily down the path to the river.

  He found conversation with her easy as well. He’d never talked with anyone else about sharing time with his father looking at the stars. He’d never taken another woman on a picnic dinner to the park. Julianne made him want to find ways to spend time with her outside of the Playhouse.

  They walked in silence for a while, then Julianne cleared her throat and softly asked, “So tell me how you came to start a business like the Playhouse.”

  He paused and turned to look at her. Was she merely making conversation or was there some other reason for the question? “I had been visiting BDSM clubs for years. It was wonderful when I finally found like-minded people. To realize I was not alone in my desires.”

  “I felt alone. I thought there was something wrong with me to want those…things.” She smiled up at him. “Until I saw your ad. Until I met you.”

  He reached out and stroked her jaw. “And there is the answer to your question. I realized that there were many people, people I met day to day, who would never consider stepping foot in a dungeon or a public club, yet would still enjoy a safe place to fulfill a fantasy. I enjoy dabbling in real estate, but the Playhouse, in addition my painting, gives me the greatest satisfaction.”

  “Speaking of your paintings, when we go back to my place let me show you a few pictures of the space, the colors. Maybe you already have something that will fit.”

  “Yes, we can do that.” He drew her off the path, toward a bench by the water. After they sat, he turned to her. “And now there will be no more talk of work today. No more talk of painting or decorating or sex clubs.” He squeezed her hand. “Agreed?”

  “It’s hard to shut it off.” She turned her attention to the river. “But I’m glad I’m here. With you.”

  “Cara. I am glad as well.”

  Paolo was in his home office Monday morning. He was supposed to be concentrating on the paperwork on the desk in front of him, but his mind kept going back to the day before. He and Julianne had walked the trails and talked about everything and nothing at all. He discovered he enjoyed hearing her views on the subjects they discussed. Enjoyed talking color and contrast, because of course, two artistic people couldn’t spend hours together and not talk about things that fed their souls.

  He let her drive the Jeep home and her spontaneous laughter with the wind whipping through her hair had warmed his heart. He knew he wanted to make her laugh more often.

  His mother’s words had been on his mind when he’d heard from Julianne yesterday. He did understand what she’d been talking about. It took much time and energy to build a business, and he’d been as guilty as anyone of spending months of all work and no play.

  The ring of his phone dragged him away from the memories of Julianne’s laughter and her hand in his. It was Abby. “Sorry, boss. You need to get over here.”

  He was on his feet and striding through the apartment. Once again he was grateful for his easy commute. “What is it?”

  “It’s Holly. She’s demanding to see you and refuses to leave this time.”

  He skidded to a halt in the hallway. He didn’t want to barrel into this situation without thinking it through first. The first burst of anger made him want to tell Abby to call the cops and haul Holly out of there. If she wanted drama, he’d give it to her.

  But as much as he’d like to, he wasn’t going to do that. He entered the Playhouse and found Holly in the office with Abby. They were sitting on opposite sides of the desk. At least she wasn’t making a scene in the waiting room. The frowns on both of their faces told him that they might not have been as friendly as they used to be.

  Holly flew out of the chair and around the desk as soon as he entered the office. She wore a short dress so tight he could tell she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “She wouldn’t let me see you.”

  He’d always had the advantage of height over Holly, but he’d never needed it before to demonstrate his dominance and he didn’t need it now. Paolo stood there, looking down at his ex-wife. After only a moment her submissive training took over, and she dropped the defiant expression and lowered her eyes.

  “Abby is doing her job, Holly. You should not have given her a hard time.”

  Holly pouted as she glanced up at him through her lashes. He remembered a time when that look made him instantly hard. Not anymore. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

  He might as well get this over with. She probably wouldn’t stop bothering him until she had her say. “Abby? Can you give us five minutes?”

  Abby stood up. “Sure.”

  “I thought we could go to one of the playrooms,” Holly said in a teasing voice.

  “No,” he snapped. Abby scooted out of the room and closed the door behind her. Paolo leaned his hip against the side of the desk and crossed his arms. “All right. Talk.”

  “This is a really nice place. I remember when you used to talk about a club like this.” She smiled, a bright genuine smile. “You really did it.”

  Maybe she wasn’t here to cause trouble. “It took longer than I thought it would to make it happen, but yes, it is exactly what I wanted.”

  “And I hear you own this whole building. And others too. I never knew you’d have all this when you bought that old building we lived in so everyone didn’t lose their homes.”

  It had been a dump but he’d put a lot of sweat equity in it and sold it for three times what he’d bought it for. And that sale financed his next building. “I have done a lot of buying and selling over the years. Is that what you came here to talk about?”

  Holly crossed her arms in front of her, plumping up her generous breasts with the gesture. “Why do you have to be this way? Can’t we have a conversation without you going all Dom on me?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I am a Dom, remember? There was a time when that was what you wanted.” And he couldn’t help but wonder if Richard had been right, if Holly had hoped Paolo would have come after her. If she’d wanted him to talk her into coming back to him all those years ago.

  “You intimidate me.” Her shoulders sagged and she shrugged. “You always did.”

  “Maybe you don’t really want a Dom. Maybe you just like the idea of one.” There were many people who were turned on by the fantasy, but discovered they didn’t like the reality.

  She dropped her
arms to her side. “No. I want you. I do.” She took a deep breath. “I know you don’t try to intimidate me.”

  “The thing is, baby girl. I do not even have to try.”

  “I think about you all the time.” Holly frowned and sank into the chair. “I miss you. I want another chance.”

  “You left me because I intimidated you when I was a twenty-two-year-old kid. Why would you want to do this again?”

  “Please? I could help you here at the Playhouse. And at home I’d kneel at your feet and be the perfect sub this time. I’ll be whatever you want me to be, I promise.”

  A dull headache had settled right between his eyes. Paolo almost preferred the drama to this begging. Then he realized she sounded desperate. Maybe all this begging was because she was in trouble. “Do you need a job? A place to stay? I can help you with that until you get back on your feet.”

  She jumped out of the chair, curled her hands into fists. “My feet are just fine. I don’t need your help.” Holly stormed out of the office, leaving Paolo even more confused than he had been before.

  “What is your safe word?”

  Julianne shuddered slightly, as she always did when reminded that she might need her safe word. “Chardonnay.”

  She knelt before Paolo on Monday evening. They were back in the first playroom he’d brought her to. He’d been unusually quiet since he picked her up and she hadn’t been able to figure out his mood. If this was a Saturday night, she’d ask him about it, but this was a play date. They were together for the dominance and submission, nothing else. Nothing to do with real life.

  “Rise.”

  Getting to her feet was becoming a little easier. Must be the practice was working. She quickly took the pose he’d taught her. When he didn’t say anything more, didn’t move, she almost glanced up, then caught herself. He was probably testing her. She slowed down her breathing, pushed the worries away.

 

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