by Nikki Sloane
As Dominic approached a set of double glass doors, a doorman nodded and pulled it open.
“Konnichiwa,” Dominic said, and the doorman echoed it back, a pleasant expression on his face. The lobby of the apartment building was elegant but generic. We paused at the desk for Dominic to pick up his mail, and then rode an elevator up.
“I’m in Japan,” I said out loud.
Dominic smirked. “I’m aware.” He shifted his weight so he was close, his body leaning into mine and his voice dropping low. “Every part of me is aware.” I tried not to shiver from that delicious voice.
Like the lobby, his corporate apartment was elegant and generic, but western style. No sliding paper doors or tan mat floors. It was small by Chicago standards, probably even New York standards. When we stepped over the threshold, Dominic’s shoes came off in Japanese tradition. I followed suit.
To the left was a tiny kitchen space, not much more than a sink and the stove top, separated by a foot of counter. Cabinets overhead and below, a pantry, and a small refrigerator beside that. The square, black dining table divided the kitchen from the living area, also known as the couch. This room was smaller than Evie’s old apartment, but more effective at maximizing space.
“The master room’s to the right,” he said, sorting through the mail and dropping it on the table. “The guest room’s there.” He gestured to the doorway beside the fridge. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure.”
It was abruptly awkward for me as he pulled two clear, odd-shaped bottles from the fridge. I was at his place, completely dependent on him. At his mercy. Oh god, I hadn’t thought this through.
“What happens tomorrow?” I asked while he opened the bottles and something rattled.
“What do you mean?” He extended it to me and I took it. Soda of some sort, but there was a weird clear orb in the neck of the bottle.
“You have to work, right?” I took of a sip of the drink, but the ball floated in the neck and clogged it so I only got half a sip. Lemon-lime, and not too bad.
“I do. There are lots of different tours you can go on. I’ve got some brochures left over from when my parents were here.”
I tried again to take a sip, but the stupid thing rolled right back into the neck. “This drink is defective.”
“You don’t like the marble soda?” There was a gleam in his eyes. Arrogance. Hot, but annoying.
No dice on my third attempt. “I can’t get it to work.”
“That must be frustrating for you.”
The air grew thick between us in an instant. His lesson had begun. There was a thunk as he set his bottle down on the table and stalked toward me. My pulse jumped. I sure as shit wasn’t tired now. A wicked expression twisted on his face. Lust. He pulled the bottle from my hand. Another thump of glass on wood as it was set down.
“I just realized I didn’t give you a proper tour.”
His arms banded around my waist and squeezed, lifting me up until my feet no longer were on the floor. He was carrying me to his bedroom, and I figured I’d make it easier on him. That way we could get there faster. My legs wrapped around his hips.
He took a hand off me to quickly flip the switch on the wall when we were through the door, and I got a brief look at the room before I sailed down onto my back on the bed. Purples and golds, with boring artwork on the walls. He lived here, but it seemed like he’d made no effort to make it his home. The room barely fit the bed, which was thankfully a queen-sized one. I was going to fuck him all over this apartment, but I was happy to start here.
He stood at the edge of the bed and peeled off my socks while I rose up on my elbows and yanked the scarf over my head. It made no sound when I flung it away. His fingers slipped under the hem of my lightweight sweater and forced it upward. It was cast off. It was a mad dash to get naked after that. Or so I thought. I jerked at the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head as his hands fumbled at the button of my jeans.
We were both down to our underwear when I began to scoot back up on the bed to put my head on a pillow.
“Wrong,” he said. His hands grabbed fistfuls of the comforter I was lying on and dragged it toward him, carrying me along with it. His hands closed on my knees and slid upward. Over my thighs, over the baby blue lace band covering my hips, and up. The coarse skin of his palms brushed over my ribs and his hands splayed as he continued. Thumbs trailed over my bra-clad breasts, to my shoulders, and slowed at my neck.
They reached their final destination at my jaw. His fingers skimmed over my cheekbones in a soft caress. He leaned over me, lowering to deliver that mesmerizing kiss. I tipped my head into it, my eyes falling shut as the warmth of his skin closed in.
My eyes fluttered open.
He’d stopped, just a breath away. I lifted my head to meet him—
Nope. Those hands cupping my face had a purpose, and it was to prevent me from doing that. He’d locked my head in place, teasing the kiss I originally claimed I didn’t want, and he already knew I was desperate for.
I shifted. I struggled against his hold, but he was prepared. When I decided to employ distraction, he was ready for that, too. The moment my hand touched his thick cock through his boxers, he stepped back from the bed.
“Give me your hands,” he demanded. There was something yellow in his. My scarf. Oh, he was feeling comfortable with me now. Here in his bed where he was going to own my ass for the next two weeks.
“If I don’t?” My voice was filled with excitement and sex.
“Your lesson will last longer.”
I pretended to be reluctant about surrendering my control, but surely he could tell this was a lie. He took the scarf, which was nothing more than a giant loop of fabric, and knotted it, cinching my wrists together.
“Too tight?”
“It’s fine.” I was a little surprised he hadn’t pussed out and gone easy. The knot was kind of tight. He pushed my arms over my head and took a knee beside my hip. He left one hand on my bound wrists, just resting there. Like it was guarding them.
Soft lips skimmed over my chest. The whiskers on his chin tickled me as he worked lower. His mouth opened and his tongue traced the edge of my bra, and the plan was kind of transparent.
“How slow are we going to go tonight?”
He didn’t laugh. Instead, his head lifted and locked eyes with me. His gaze dripped with seduction. “Until you think you might die.”
This wasn’t playful Dominic. This was some other kind of creature. Fire poured into my center and pooled in my body.
His hot mouth clamped down on my breast, moisture soaking through the fine lace as he sucked at me. His tongue kneaded my flesh. I clamped my legs together, unbearably turned on. He roved over to the other breast and repeated it until my nipples were hard and sensitive, my breasts full and swollen.
“Can you come like this?” he asked. “Just from my mouth sucking on your tits?”
A tight noise escaped my throat. Normally the answer would be a no, it certainly always had been. Still, he knew what the hell he was doing. He’d timed it perfectly. As he nipped at me, I arched my back and his hand sank beneath my body. It searched for the clasp of my bra. It took him a few seconds, maybe more than one try, and tension sprang free from the band.
“One handed.” I gave him an impressed look.
“I’ve very talented.”
The bra slipped up over my elbows and he abandoned it there by my bound wrist.
“Fuck,” I moaned. His mouth was hotter without the lace in the way. I watched the tip of his tongue roll a lazy circle around my erect nipple, his hand holding the breast in place.
“Better?” he rumbled. “Do you want to come like this?”
Like he was sure he could get me there with just his mouth. Could he? Another circle and a soft bite made it seem possible.
“I . . .”
Fingernails slipped down over my stomach as his hand journeyed lower. Yes, lower. That would definitely get me there. They inc
hed under the lace and I opened my legs to welcome them. Two fingers stirred me. I moaned loudly.
“Jesus, Payton, you’ve made a mess down here.”
I smirked. “You did that.”
The fingers were suddenly gone, and wetness smeared over my nipple, followed by his tongue. “Your pussy tastes so good.”
Holy shit, if he did that again, I was going to come. My lower body protested that his touch was gone, but my skin above was hyper-aware. Every caress and lash of his mouth brought me closer to the brink.
A soft whimper fell from my lips. It was like a signal to him.
“Keep your hands here,” he ordered. His voice was an even mixture of playful and threatening.
Dominic slid back off the bed and knelt between my parted legs, and my breathing became shallow. Like with the bra, his tongue teased the edge where lace gave way to skin, this time on the inside of my legs. Only here, it wasn’t as pleasant.
“I want your mouth on me so bad, it hurts,” I said.
He stayed silent. Not ignoring me, though. A soft kiss was planted on the lace. Then, another. This one lingered, and that sinful tongue got involved. My stomach clenched.
“Take my panties off.”
“I will when I’m good and ready.” He sucked at the damp fabric and licked me through it. “I don’t need to take them off to do this.” Fingertips curled around the inside seam and pulled them to the side.
I unleashed a startled moan when he fucked me with his tongue. Slow. Sensual. Like he had all the time in the world, and wasn’t aware he had brought me almost to the edge. One fast swirl, or a finger running over my clit and I’d be done for.
“I’m right there. Oh, god . . .”
His mouth shifted away and he released the panties, letting them snap back into place. I took a deep breath in through my nose and blew it out of my mouth. I knew what this was. My body was aching for release, but he wasn’t going to allow it yet.
“I understand the lesson,” I said. “Please, can we—”
He laughed. “You think we’re done? Payton, shit, we’re just getting started.”
chapter
TWELVE
He backed me down from orgasming at least a half-dozen times. With his fingers and with his mouth again. He’d taken off my panties the second time he went down on me. Tremors shook my legs and my arms began to go numb from the lack of movement, but I did my best to keep them in place. Dominic showed no signs of letting up anytime soon.
“Are you brinking me?” I asked, struggling for breath.
“What’s that?”
“Where you take me to the brink of orgasm and back off.”
The smile I got was evil. “Oh, then, yeah. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Each time I got close, he either stopped or changed techniques. The second option was worse because it was new, different pleasure right on the heels of the sensation that was supposed to send me over the edge.
“Oh, shit, please.” My voice was shaky. He was back to kneeling between my legs. This time he used both his mouth and his fingers. Please let this be the time he allows it.
“Do you want to come?”
“Yes.” I was out of my mind. I couldn’t focus on anything else.
He paused his mouth, but that pair of fingers continued their slow press in and out, and I shifted my hips in time with them.
“Do you need to come?”
With every cell in my body. “Oh, god, yes.”
“How badly do you want to? Tell me.”
My skin was on fire, yet covered with goosebumps. My eyes closed under his power, which I was drowning in. “I’m going to lose my fucking mind. Please, Dominic. Please.”
He carved a path with that mouth, from entrance to clit and I sucked in a breath. Yes, yes, yes . . .
No. He ceased everything and shot to his feet. No longer touching or tasting me.
“Then, come,” he ordered. His dark gaze focused on me, watching. I clamped my legs together, squeezing every muscle in my lower body, trying to send myself over the edge when he’d abandoned me teetering there.
And . . . and . . . it wasn’t going to happen. A deep sound of frustration broke free from my chest.
“This lesson is the fucking worst. I’m over it.” I brought my arms down. I could get this knot undone with some maneuvering, and I’d finish what he refused to.
But his mouth crashed into mine, stunning me motionless. Hands slid beneath me and forced me back up the bed, his naked body along with it. The boxers must have come off when he was going down on me the millionth time, and his hard length pressed against me.
My head hit the pillow at the same instant he yanked open a drawer in the nightstand. A box tore open. A wrapper crinkled as he rolled onto his back beside me and his hands moved, covering himself.
My teeth chattered. Not with cold, or fear, but some side effect of the insane need gnawing at me. Need. For him. When he was ready, he threaded his head through the circle of my tied arms and positioned himself over me.
“You want this cock inside you? Say it.” He slid it in my wet folds, priming himself, or just being more of a tease.
“Fuck, I want your big, hard cock inside me.”
He flashed a victorious smile, and claimed my mouth the same moment he claimed my body. My groan of enjoyment sounded suspiciously like suffering. The tight fit of him inside me . . . it felt so impossibly good.
Then he moved.
Hips rolled, touching me inside and out. He was on top of me, inside me, all over me . . . fucking everywhere. His subtle movements increased the tension in my core.
Something like a sob swelled in my chest. The ache for release. So strong I could taste it. Everything else faded out. Just the need remained. I moaned and cried out, thrashed beneath him. I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t sure I could go on living if he didn’t get me there.
His lips were by my ear but it sounded like his voice was in my head. In my fucking thoughts. “Are you going to come for me?”
I hissed out the word. “Yes.”
“How badly do you want to come for me?” His thrust was deep. Wicked, and possessive. “I want to hear the desperation in your voice.”
Desperation was right. I began to panic. My whole body shook and I clutched him as best I could with my hands tied. “I want to, so bad. So. Fucking. Bad.”
“I think you’re ready.” His head ducked out from the loop of my arms and—
Terror descended into my voice. “Dominic!”
He pulled out of me and sat back on his heels, his eyes incredibly intense. “Come for me. Now. Right fucking now. Don’t make me wait another second.”
This command in that rough voice lit a fuse that spiraled into me, burning deeper and deeper, until it set off the explosion. My mind drained of thought. Eyes rolled back in my head. Holy fuck. I arched my back and screamed. “Shit, I’m coming! I’m coming!”
He wasn’t even touching me. Dominic sat shock-still, watching the pleasure seize and tense my body; hot, consuming, and leaving nothing in its wake. I couldn’t find air and didn’t give a fuck. I wanted this to last forever. Wanted him to make it go on forever. The sharp edge of the orgasm flooded through me and washed away slowly, one layer at a time.
“Did you like that?” His voice was audio sin.
I nodded, unable to speak. Still couldn’t really breathe. The orgasm had been so intense, I needed more time to recover. As I did that, I was only faintly aware he was undoing the scarf from my wrists. Everything was tingling.
His warm body pressed against mine when it was done and I had my hands free. They settled on his broad shoulders, drifting downward when he shifted between my legs and his cock began to sink into me again.
Dominic had made me come without touching me. Sure, he’d prepped me, but in the end it was his rough, dirty voice that got me there. Had he done it because he worried my orgasm would set off his, or had he done it simply because he could? Didn’t matter once he resumed fucking
me. Nothing did but that connection to him, and those deep, furious thrusts that put me back on the climb toward ecstasy.
And that kiss. That fucking kiss. I moaned into his soft mouth, not wanting my lips to leave his. His skin felt like it was on fire beneath my palms, which slid further down so I could dig my nails into his ass. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist and I rose up off the mattress, trying to meet him like I couldn’t get enough of his cock. Because I couldn’t. His joke about not getting attached to it drifted through my head.
It was a million degrees trapped underneath him and we were both sweating. His hair was damp around the temples and I could feel the hair sticking to the back of my neck, but no way was I going to let him slow down, and the determined look on his face said that wasn’t going to happen anyway.
“Fuck,” he groaned, burying his face in the side of my neck, his ragged breathing loud in my ear. “You feel so good. I’m not going to let you leave this bed for the next two weeks.”
But I had plans. Sex on the dining table. The couch. Maybe the shower if it was big enough. He dipped a hand beneath my back, slipping down to grab a handful of my ass and squeeze, hard.
The tension wound tighter inside, making it difficult to focus on anything else. Fuck. Too good. I was going to explode.
“You’re going to . . . make me come . . . again.” Could barely breathe.
He gave me a teasing look. “That’s the plan, genius.”
The hand not holding my ass latched on to my breast so he could tilt it up into his mouth, skimming over the sensitive skin with the sharp edge of his teeth. I cried out, squeezing my legs harder around him and bringing my knees up so they were almost beside his head. My back arched up as pleasure mounted and took hold, gripping me in another orgasm. Weaker than the first spectacular one, but still fucking awesome.
“Sssh,” he whispered while grinning.
“You don’t like . . . that I’m vocal?” I panted out.
“Are you kidding me? I do, but my neighbors probably don’t.”
“Fuck your neighbors.”
His grin turned down into a playful scowl. “Why the hell would I do that? I’d rather fuck you, and we know you like it. Evident from all the screaming.”