The Dom Games

by Rachel Robinson

  My dick is pulsating in her hand as she works it up and down in her small palm. My balls tighten, and the urge to plunge into her is almost too strong to ignore. “We’re skipping right to the making love part,” I whisper into her ear. Goosebumps rise on her shoulder. I kiss them away. The words came out so easily—effortlessly—because the sentiment is truthful. To prove to her just how much this moment means to me, I roll onto my back. “You on top,” I say. “If you want,” I add, just so she knows the choice is hers. I’ve never fucked like this. Ever. This vulnerable state of having no control over anything that happens isn’t as frightening as it once seemed. The way she’s looking at me, like I’m some goddamn dream creature sent here for her pleasure helped the decision along.

  Her eyes twinkle with delight. Instead of commenting on the turn of events, or making a joke, she straddles me and blissfully, yet slowly, sits down on my dick and works me like I’ve never been worked. I let my hands wander over her breasts and lightly touch her hips, but she’s in control. Everything is hers. My breathing speeds as I watch her tits bounce in time with her pussy, working me over. I’m going to come too fast. I realize it the second she starts rolling her hips in a circle as she slides up and down.

  Gritting my teeth, I say, “I’m going to come, Kayla. This…feels too good.” Instead of slowing down or switching the pace, she continues her slow assault of my will with a voracious look in her eye. Try as I might, I can’t control it any longer. Digging my fingers into her hips, I pull her all the way down onto my shaft and release in several, hot bursts deep inside her. She moans, throwing her head back at the same time. I feel her cunt flexing around me as her orgasm hits. Our timing is perfect, our breathing is matched, and everything just changed.

  She tilts her head so she’s looking down at me. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” she says, in between pants. She’s still clenching around me as she speaks. I want to stay here, inside her. When I pull out, this spell will be broken, and I’ll be the same person I was before we came here.

  I want to make her mine forever. The show. A pit in my stomach forms as I let my gaze wander to every nuance and curve of her masterfully made body. I let my thumbs graze her full pink lips. She cups my hand against her face and leans into it, her eyes closing. Then it happens. The words come before my mind makes sense of what they truly mean.

  “I love you, Kayla.”

  Next, something else happens that I can’t make sense of. Instead of responding, she leans down, keeping our bodies connected, and kisses me so hard I almost forget I just told her I loved her.

  Almost.

  ****

  The caterers are everywhere—the Dom champagne disappearing from their trays quicker than they can pour it. My suit has turned into an inferno on this hot spring day. I had a dress delivered for Kayla. She looks stunning in the soft pink chiffon. It skims the emerald green lawn as she walks toward me like some light angel of destruction. I gave her the ability to destroy me yesterday with mere words. Words she didn’t reciprocate, but I felt that she returned in other ways. With her body and mouth. We fucked and made love so many times that I lost count. I’ve never been so smitten in my entire life. It’s like when I took her outside of the studio a new light shone on her like a spotlight on my stage.

  The dress floats around her as she walks, hugging her tight body and legs as she takes each step. Anyone in any sort of radius stops and stares at her ethereal beauty. Women with envy and men with lust. It’s not because she’s on the games, either, it truly is because she is this perfect blend of perfection. Her beauty reels them in and her smart mind keeps their attention far longer than I’m comfortable with. My dad’s friends monopolize her time. They steal her laughter that I covet. They hear her words that I want.

  Finally she makes it to me. I’m pretending to listen to a man prattle on about a business acquisition I’m not interested in. I nod at the appropriate times, but I’ve been waiting for Kayla to rescue me.

  “Kayla,” I say brightly. She smiles, all white teeth and subtle dimples at the sound of my voice. Her cheeks blush. My dick actually responds to the color of her cheeks. To the man in front of me I say, “Excuse me, sir. I must give my company to this beautiful lady.” He nods, looking stunned by Kayla, and then ambles off, nearly tripping over himself.

  “Did I rescue you again?” she asks, grabbing my hand.

  I smirk, pull her to my side, and kiss the top of her sweet smelling head. “Don’t leave me anymore. Everyone here wants a piece of you.”

  She pulls away to meet my gaze. “You act as if I want to give any of my pieces away to anyone else. My pieces are yours, fine sir. If you want them, that is.” Yep, my cock twitches again. “You know exactly how to put them together.” Kayla leans up into the crook of my neck. “I want to fuck you on top again,” she breathes into my ear. “I’m so wet for you, Dominic. Merely looking at you in that suit makes me want you.” She rubs her hand over my lapel. I wish she were rubbing my cock.

  My God. I can’t be expected to stay at this party, surely. I won’t be missed for an hour. I meet her eyes. Okay, maybe two or three hours. She’s hungry. Over her head, I notice my brothers leering at us from a group off to the side. I put up my hand in a wave and guide Kayla into the house. I tell my mother that I want to show Kayla the top room. A room that has a slanted roof made of glass, perfect for looking at stars. She gushes and smiles and hugs Kayla and shoves a sweet tea into my hand. My mother leaves—a mass of colors and hairspray in her wake. Kayla clutches my arm and whispers lewd, sexual comments into my ear, and I nearly combust with desire.

  “Thank you for bringing me this weekend, Dominic.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

  Kayla scoffs. “As if I ever stood a chance. Your sex is like catnip. I don’t think I could stay away from you if I tried.” She runs her hand through my hair, watching the movement intently. “I’ll end up being one of your obsessed groupies.” A frown mars her lips and crinkles between her eyes.

  “Hey. Why the long face?” I tap under her chin with my pointer finger.

  She shrugs. “Just thinking about when we have to go back. It’s not going to be like this anymore.” My stomach sinks. She’s right, but I can’t give her up. Not like this, now that I know how extraordinary it is. We’ll have to sneak around. It won’t be simple like it is right now.

  “Kayla. Perhaps you didn’t hear my confession yesterday. A groupie you will never be. Our relationship will be tricky for a while, but we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

  She doesn’t respond, but her hand that’s clutching my arm tightens.

  We take the elevator to the top floor. I won’t be looking at stars in the middle of the day, though.

  I do plan to be on my back. The room is silent and full of brilliant daylight.

  I lock the door and make my way to the center of the room. Turning around to face her, I hold my arms out, palms up. “Do your worst, madam,” I say, grinning.

  My God, does she ever.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “When it all falls down”

  Kayla

  It truly is amazing what alcohol is capable of. “Never have I ever been in public naked,” someone yells out. I take a shot of the clear, fire liquid and meet Dominic’s eyes. He narrows his own and shakes his head. His usually coifed hair is messy, and part of it hangs down on his forehead. It is so fucking hot. The room is raucous and loud. Ties are loosened, women drape themselves over laps, their dresses wrinkled and their cheeks rosy.

  We have a red-eye back to Reed Studios tonight, but first it’s almost mandatory that we hang out with the younger crowd in a large lounge inside the Reed’s residence. His brothers keep to themselves, but everyone else is more than happy to talk to me—friendly banter and questions about how Dominic and I met. I use the same story for each individual so I only have to keep track of one lie. If they recognize me from the show, they don’t treat me any differently.

  A
fter Dom and I made love in the conservatory at the top of the house, twice, we rejoined the party. Dominic fields all sorts of conversations. Men looking for jobs at his studio, men offering him products to test, women wanting to melt under his gaze—there are all sorts of people at this family get-together, moguls and frat boys alike. All refinement and false personas left the building after the sun set behind the beautiful mountains in the distance. His parents retreated to a study with several older couples. I joked to Dominic that they were headed to a swingers’ party. He shook his head furiously, but smiled at the notion.

  “I want you on the plane, Kayla. At the rate you’re going I’m going to have to carry you on board,” Dominic says, tickling my ear with his breath. I want him on the plane. Actually, I want him now. I want him, like this, all the time—and therein lies our new problem. After tonight, that’s it.

  My stomach spins, and I clutch at the chiffon material of the midsection of my gown. He told me he loves me. How am I to process those words when we’re here playing house, avoiding the glaring truth of reality? The harem waits for him. The cameras and lights, gags, canes, whips, they all await their master. My master. I swallow hard. “One more round of never have I ever?” I ask. He leans into me and kisses me deeply and then pecks my lips once, and then again, leaving me breathless and soaking wet. His kiss is all it takes. For all of the years he spent trying, Jason could never attain that. Every sexual experience in my life pales in comparison. My heart? Well, there’s nothing to compare this to. I’ve never felt like this about anyone else.

  “One more round, but no more drinks,” he says, his tone light. He’s asking. Not telling. Something else I’ve quickly gotten used to that makes my heart leap into the damn stars. How hard is normalcy for him? Because this for me is perfection.

  I pin him with my stare. He smiles a challenging, suave grin. “Never have I ever enjoyed a weekend more,” I whisper honestly. I use this question specifically because he doesn’t want me to drink. I want to live in this weekend forever. He cooked me breakfast this morning at the Wombat, and I gave him a massage by the pool, the brisk tepid air kissing our bare bodies. The banter between us is effortless and full of lighthearted jokes and bursting with stares of longing so deep that no one can deny our chemistry. I haven’t let myself think about what comes next.

  Dominic presses his lips against my head and sighs. “This weekend has been everything.” There is a longing in his voice even though I’m folded in his arms. This feeling, the one coursing through my veins and filling my heart, is what I’ve always wanted and everything I was warned against. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d end up here when I sent in that stupid video. That seems like a lifetime ago. My tuition is paid for and yet, here I am—falling for the man who falls for no one and everyone at the same time.

  “We’ll be rooting for you, Kayla Grayson,” a voice from next to me growls. I was so lost in the moment I didn’t hear Dominic’s brother sit down on my opposite side. It’s Aaron. “Father knows now, Dom.” He smirks, looking past me to his brother.

  “My life is on television, Aaron. My sex life is public consumption. Of course he knows.” Dominic tightens his grip on my shoulders, pulling me closer. My stomach sinks. I’m going back there and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

  “Kayla was the one telling us how she’s so skilled in acting, but I’m pretty sure you both aren’t acting right now. There aren’t cameras. Tell me, Ms. Grayson, how will it feel when he’s back in the playrooms with Jessy?” He looks from me to Dom. “She’s a real fucking kitten, Dom. You better not get rid of her anytime soon. Those doe eyes and hoover lips. I’m not sure how you leave her at the end of the night.”

  Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the fact that Aaron is right, but traitorous tears sting the corners of my eyes, and I know I need to escape before I let this man tear me down with his truths. “While this conversation is most entertaining. I need to use the ladies’ room,” I say, breaking free of Dominic’s grasp. Both men have the good manners to stand when I do. The irony.

  Aaron leers. “I can walk you to the bathroom, Kayla. Let’s give Dom something to be jealous of. You’ll be even with him. What do you say, bro? Let me give her a test drive. You have plenty more back home in the garage anyways.” Aaron runs his hand through his gelled hair and keeps one hand in the pocket of his suit pants.

  Dominic tenses by my side, and I know what happens next, so I turn and head for the door. The crack as Dominic’s fist connecting with Aaron’s jaw is so loud and violent that gasps echo in the room. I close the door behind me and let the tears flow. Where’s the damn makeup artist with her waterproof arsenal when you need her?

  Dominic and I are just pretending in this false world. I’m his whore. His submissive. A contestant on his game show—a mere pawn in his life, regardless of our feelings for each other. Hot tears sting my cheeks as I head for a small guest bathroom that’s down the hallway.

  As I’m rushing in, Dominic’s dad is exiting. The same calculating, appraising leer that his brothers send my way is magnified by a thousand. “You’re alone out here? This is no place to be unaccompanied. Drunks are everywhere.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. I could be witty and funny at any other time. Right now, I’m a wreck. “Where’s Dominic?” he asks, his eyes scanning my body very deliberately. This is the reason Dom hates alcohol and drinking. It makes sense. Franklin’s hands twitch by his sides.

  I take a step back. “Breaking Aaron’s nose.” It isn’t my finest hour, or my best comeback. Given the circumstances, truth is better than anything else. I don’t need Dominic to defend my honor or my name. I chose this. The Dom Games was my decision. The turmoil this is causing is what really upsets me.

  His eyes narrow and it makes me sick because I see Dominic in the gesture and it forces me back a few more steps. I stumble in the expensive designer heels and they catch in the chiffon of my gown. It rips up the side, and I fall on my backside. “Already undressing for me, are you? You’re a bigger whore than I imagined. I thought you had a real thing for my son. You’ll undress for anyone, won’t you?” I smell the alcohol seeping out of his skin from here—on his beautiful floor.

  I shake my head furiously, scooting backward toward the wall like a cornered fucking dog. I slip off my heels because I have a feeling this isn’t going to end well and heels are never a good idea if you need to flee or defend yourself. The rip exposes my high thigh. Mr. Reed’s eyes follow the rip and then travel up to my face. “I may be on a television show, but that does not mean you know me, sir. I am no whore. I am wise and strong. My sexual predilections tell nothing about character just as they tell nothing about your son. You don’t know me at all.” I stand, taking my shoes in one hand, holding my chin up. If this, the right way doesn’t work, I now have two four-inch weapons. “I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your manners.”

  “Kayla,” Dominic calls out. He runs down the white, crystalline hallway toward me, like a white knight, except not. He’s more of a dark knight with sexual weapons. Franklin has the good sense to step away from me. His face morphs from the scowl to fear. I’ll take my dark knight any day of the week, if he’s capable of this.

  Dominic looks between his father and me as soon as he’s close enough to see our facial expressions. “What’s going on out here, Dad?”

  His dad flips it. “Why is there blood on your hand, Son?”

  Dominic shrugs, appraises my dress, and sighs heavily. “What the fuck happened? Kayla. Start talking.” He swore out loud. It makes my heart hammer. His father will be his father for the rest of his life. I’ll merely be a fleeting woman in his life. His father sweats, a bead of sweat rolling down his chubby face. I bet it’s pure vodka.

  Pinning Mr. Reed with my gaze, I say, “I tripped over these silly shoes. You know how I can’t walk in these things after I’ve had them on all day. The heel ripped my dress and your father so generously helped me up.” I let my eyes wander to Dominic. He doesn’t believe me. I se
e it written in his stony features—his narrowed eyes, those luscious lips pursed in accusation.

  “She’s right. Of course the lady is right,” Mr. Reed says. Now he’s polite. I’m going to vomit. The alcohol spins in my empty stomach. “Now tell me again who that blood belongs to.” He nods at Dominic’s right hand.

  “It belongs to anyone who fucks with Kayla,” Dominic says, stepping closer to his father until they’re nose to nose—chest to chest. I close my eyes. I can’t watch a son hit his own father. Not because of me. Not because of my own bad choices.

  “You boys better back up or I’m gonna get my rifle and stir this shit up real good,” Betsy says from beside me. “Don’t you think I won’t either. I saw and heard the whole thing.” She wedges herself in between the men and faces her husband. “Kayla is a class act, Dominic. Your father is just as much of a lying, scheming fleabag as he’s ever been. The things you said to this beautiful lady? You make me sicker than a dying dog. Franklin, you better get outta here real quick.”

  Franklin has the good sense to look scared. “Go check on your other son. He’s got a well deserved sore face,” Betsy yells at his retreating back. Franklin Reed obeys.

  And as if it’s an afterthought that she just can’t control, she screams at her husband, “And after that, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!”

  She asks Dominic to wash up and then she ushers me into the bathroom—strong arming me by putting her hands on my shoulders. She apologizes over and over in her country twang and it almost makes me want to forgive her rancid husband. Almost. I feel bad for her. She dabs at my face with tissue paper and fiddles with the rip in my dress.

  “I’m sorry, Kayla. I could have stepped in earlier, but I wanted to see how far Franklin took it. I never would have let him touch you. Please know that. Dominic came before I had to worry about that, though. I’m so sorry for their behavior. You’d think these boys were raised by a pack of wolves.” She averts her gaze.