How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3)
Page 20
I continued to stare as Derek became unhinged before my eyes. He’d never met a Domme before, clearly, and it looked like it was his kryptonite.
“That’s right, Veronika. I entered you in this contest because I thought you could win. I’d forgotten all about it after the breakup. But look, you made it. You’ve got a career ahead of you, so you don’t need the money you got from the sale. It will be a clean slate. You win the modeling contract and the cash, and go on with your life. I won’t bother you. Just—” he stammered, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Just settle.”
Part of it was tempting. He was doing the old “retract and rephrase” thing he used to do whenever he’d crossed the line. There were times, back then, when I’d snap. It was only once in a while, but a girl could only take so many insults before she lost her shit. Then Derek would backpedal. He’d smooth-talk me, compliment me, and then try to get me back in his good graces. I could see in his expression that that’s what he was doing now. He was trying to smooth over the conversation’s rough edges. Pull the wool over my eyes.
But I was done being blindfolded.
I took a step toward Derek. We were nearly eye to eye, which he hated. He always preferred when I wore flats because he was chicken shit about my height. But I stood my ground in my platform heels and looked him directly in the eyes. “I’ll see you in court.”
“You can’t afford it!” he shouted, shaking with anger.
I shrugged. “I can take out a loan on the garage. Or sell it.”
He clutched his head. “Why? How is this worth it?”
I smiled. Full-toothed, mysterious-pinup style. “Because I know I’m right, and I know I’ll win. Back off, Derek, and you could be the one saving thousands in legal fees. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some beauty sleep for the contest.”
I turned and walked away, feeling all tension leave my body. I didn’t even glance over my shoulder to see if he was rooted to the spot or had headed for the hills. I didn’t care. I was free of him, mentally, so let the chips fall where they may. He had no power over me.
I power walked through the hotel’s lobby, hoping I wasn’t too far behind Aston. A crowd had gathered by the door and there seemed to be a situation. While I wasn’t the type to sneak a peek at other people’s misfortune, they were blocking the exit and I had to find Aston.
As I pushed through the crowd, I could see that someone was being arrested and someone else was filing a report. The cop was cuffing one guy—a scruffy-looking redheaded man in ripped jeans and a concert tee. The second man was Aston, who was calmly talking to another cop with a clipboard while the redhead struggled and shouted.
Aston and I made eye contact and his eyes widened. “There you are,” he said, waving his arm toward me. “Thank god.”
I stood there, stunned and puzzled for a moment, trying to keep my knees from wobbling. I’d just finished the most taxing conversation of my life, and that was after finding out Aston had walked out on me. What the hell was going on?
I skittered over to Aston, shaky from the night’s events, while the cop read the loud man his rights.
Aston pulled me into an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I pushed back, looking him in the eyes. “You left,” I said, eyebrows knitting.
“Because of him,” he said, gesturing at the handcuffed dude.
I threw my arms up. It was five AM, and I was emotionally and physically exhausted. But I had to know what had transpired. “What’s going on here?”
Aston ran his hand through his hair and pulled, leaving it flopped over one eye. The way I liked it. “After you’d left, the phone rang. It was some guy saying he was a lawyer. Started making all these fucking accusations, trying to intimidate me.”
I pointed at the redhead, wrinkling my nose.
Aston continued. “I suggested he go fuck himself, and then he said our room number. He knew where we were staying. So I packed our bags and headed to the lobby. I was trying to get a refund for the night so that we could stay somewhere this asshole wasn’t. Then, the guy actually came up to me! I knew in a second he wasn’t a lawyer and he started ranting and raving about your ex, Derek, saying that if we don’t pay a settlement, we’d pay in other ways.”
The blood drained from my face. “Oh god,” I said, swallowing hard.
“Luckily, you can’t get away with shit in these casinos. A cop found us arguing and, after I explained my story, he started questioning the guy. Turns out there are warrants out for his arrest in five states.”
My knees quaked at the story, but not out of fear, out of anger. “So Derek was bluffing about the lawyer?”
Aston nodded, then put his arms around me again. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. If I have to go hunt down that asshole ex of yours, I will.”
I shrugged. “Already did. I double-bluffed him and he ran away. I hope he saw his buddy get cuffed.”
Aston’s eyes brightened at the word. “Think he’s the only one getting cuffed tonight?” he asked, biting his thick lip, lowering his long eyelashes at me. Damn, this boy had an effect on me.
“Depends,” I said, running my fingernail down his neck, watching his Adam’s apple plunge at the sensation.
“On?” he asked, voice barely a squeak.
“You. You said you felt embarrassed? That really hurt, Aston,” I said, standing my ground. I loved him, but was still irked about the comment.
Aston shook his head. “That all came out wrong. I wasn’t embarrassed to be staying here, or to be here with you, I was embarrassed that this was how I was treating you. If I had my money back, we’d be staying in a suite at the Mandalay Bay. We’d be overlooking the grounds from our giant hot tub. We’d have room service bring us one of everything. I’d rub my Mistress’s feet with lotion that cost a hundred dollars a bottle. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t provide for you, and the enormity of that was really finally hitting me. I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to take care of you the way I want to, that’s all.”
I inhaled, feeling the beginnings of tears well in my eyes. The sentiment was completely the opposite of what I’d thought he meant. He wanted to take care of me, to coddle me, and to spoil me. “Do you really think that’s what I want? To be spoiled like a princess?”
He swallowed. “You deserve it.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He shook his head. “You’re right, Mistress. But please understand I just want to do more for you, that’s all.”
I took his hand and clasped it. “We’ll be on equal footing, now. That’s a good thing. If we start to do well, great. If not, we struggle together. You in?”
He smiled, cupping my face in his hand. “As they say in Vegas, I’m all in.”
You have a big, thick thing in my apartment, the text from Sarah read.
I rolled my eyes as I typed a response. I swear, the dildos are all yours.
Aston and I were having a drink in one of the hotel bars before deciding what to do. We had no idea where we were going to go, but it didn’t matter, we’d go together.
No, there’s an envelope for you. Postmarked Vegas and there’s a little icon of a pinup on there, came her reply.
My eyes widened. Shit, was it about the pageant? Open it.
Clearly the Domming is going well, she texted back. So forceful! Then she added some little emoji I couldn’t understand. It may have been a paddle, or it could have been a spatula for all I could tell. I texted her a winky back—old school, just the semicolon and parenthesis—and waited.
After a minute, she returned the text. Um, this says you get a discounted rate at the Bellagio. Ninety-nine a night. I’ve got a promo code here, plus there’s all sorts of coupons.
My shoulders relaxed in relief. We had a place to stay, and it was nice.
Shoot me all the codes if you can. You�
��re a lifesaver!
Only if I get a sexy pic of your sub. I’ve been dying of anticipation, girl!
I told Aston to put on his best shy smile and snapped a pic for Sarah, sending it.
Damn, girl! He’s a hottie and a half. If you come back anytime soon, you need to meet my new sub. His name is Duncan and he’s geeky and mysterious.
I chuckled. So, your dream man, right?
She gushed a little more, then sent me the codes for the coupons and I told Aston the good news. We hotfooted it down the Strip. It was the weird pre-light of dawn and the illuminated casinos made you feel disoriented—it would have been impossible to tell what time it was. It was part of Vegas’ amazing magic. I was entranced. I really could live here.
When we arrived at the Bellagio, I was in for a surprise. The lobby was spectacular, with this crazy blown-glass display as the ceiling, but the best part was the cars. There were vintage rides everywhere, and banners hanging on poles with images of classic Vargas girl pinup art. I sighed and leaned against Aston. This was going to be awesome.
Checking in was a cinch—they’d blocked off rooms for the contestants and spectators, and luckily there had been a few cancellations.
The clerk poked a few buttons with a raised eyebrow. “Looks like there’s an upgrade avail—”
“We’ll take it,” Aston said, planting a kiss on my head. “Consider it a splurge, just this once.”
I poked my finger at his chest. “Fine, just this once, and only because I’m so damn tired.” I rested my head on his shoulder and yawned. It had been a long night.
We were more than pleased when we got to the room. It wasn’t quite a suite, more like a giant loft, but it was absolutely gorgeous and had a kitchenette.
Aston rubbed his hands together. “Breakfast is going to be epic,” he said.
I stretched. “Fine, but nothing super heavy.”
He looked at me in amazement. “I’m so glad you agreed to breakfast,” he said. “It’s usually like pulling teeth to get you to enjoy food.”
I rolled my neck and stepped into the bedroom, glancing over my shoulder with a come-hither stare. “You’ve made me realize that a little splurge isn’t so bad. The pageant is tomorrow, so a decent breakfast isn’t going to make or break it.”
“I’m so proud of you. You have no idea,” he responded, following behind me and placing his warm hands on my hips. Aston pressed his growing erection against me and I melted backward, grinding into it weakly.
“I’m tired,” I said, moving closer to the bed, torn. “But I want you.”
Aston chuckled and kissed my ear. He whispered, “Well, if we sleep naked and things happen, we couldn’t be blamed.”
Agreeing, I peeled off my travel-worn clothes and stepped out of my thong. Aston’s eyes burned, but were also heavy with sleep. He disrobed, slowly, so I could watch each muscle’s reveal, then stepped into the bed, hot and hard.
I kissed his mouth and gave him a stroke. “This is worth waking up for,” I said, dozing.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The shades were drawn and if there was visible—even noonday—sun I’d have no clue. All I knew was drowsy darkness, Aston’s hot breath in my hair, and his erection pressed against my ass. I moaned softly, waking more and more as the arousal in my tummy built. I stretched, feeling my body rub against Aston’s. He lay there, motionless, as I began to undulate against him, feeling the waves of pleasure created by the friction of our bodies.
I rolled over, taking a good look at him in the dark. I could make out only the faintest features. Those lips, breathing softly. The ripples of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. His long, hard cock, twitching in response to its contact with my body. He needed sleep—clearly, since he was such a deep sleeper, but I had needs too.
Perhaps he was so deeply asleep that I wouldn’t wake him.
Aston was perched on his side precariously, so it didn’t take more than a nudge to get him flat on his back. He let out a loud exhalation. I whispered his name, but he didn’t respond. The next whisper was a delicate flick of my fingers up and down his shaft. Well, that was awake enough, I decided.
Since Aston couldn’t do it for me, I began to touch myself. I spread my legs and used my pointer to rub circles around my clit, leaning back with a luxurious sense of debauchery. I was masturbating to my sleeping boyfriend. My finger pulled away wet, leaving a trail, and I decided that he’d be up for sex, whether or not he would be awake for it. And if he did rouse, well, what a great way to wake up. I pulled the sheets down and straddled Aston, hovering above his lusciously rigid cock. Gingerly, I put my hands on the base and lined it up with my pussy, which was beyond soaked at the thought of taking him in his sleep. I slid down, inch by decadent inch, feeling him fill me. Aston didn’t stir. The sexiness was beyond comprehension—this was power, I thought, as I consumed him fully and began to rock.
Starting gently, I pulsed on top of him, feeling how good his body made me feel. All I heard was the sound of deep, sound sleep and wet noises that were made from my rapidly increasing rocking. Desperate for the sensation he couldn’t provide me, I cupped my own breasts, pulling roughly at my nipples. My hips began to spiral out of my control, and soon I was fucking him like my life depended on it.
It was then that Aston’s eyes opened, taking in the sight of my naked, writhing body in the darkness. He smiled slowly and began to speak, but I clamped my hand over his mouth, gagging him with my fingers. His eyes rolled back and his body bucked at the dominant move. He liked this just as much as I did. His hips rose to meet me, crashing, and what had begun as a sleepy quickie began to turn into something much more animal, much more wet and chaotic. Aston placed his hands above his head, knitting his fingers together in a submissive pose. It was all I needed as I clenched down hard on him and rode out the orgasm with my hand over his mouth and my other hand flicking my clit. Aston gasped beneath my fingers and I knew he had come, too.
Just as silently as it had begun, I crawled off him and lay down beside him. I pushed a sweaty lock of hair from his brow and smiled.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good is an understatement,” he managed, rubbing his eyes.
I chuckled and rolled into a spooning position. “If this is how we spend our first morning in Vegas, I’m definitely on board with spending a whole lot more.”
“There she is, Miss Pinup Las Vegas! Listen chickie, today’s tips are about dominating, all right, but in a different way. Today I want you to dominate that contest. Living the Domme life is just about control, even if you don’t technically have any. You’ll have no control over the judges or the other contestants, but you will have control over yourself. Act as if you’re the bomb, and you will be. Act as if you will win, and the judges will make it happen. It’s all about attitude. I know you’ve come a long way over the last week, even if we haven’t talked much. And I get it—you’re busy driving and getting road head. Good for you. But I wanted to say how proud I am of you, today, Veronika. You’re doing something bold, and you’ve been on a journey that has changed you for the better. You’re braver, stronger, and more yourself than you’ve ever been. And don’t you worry about me back home. I met a sub in spin class, how perfect is that?! So now we’re both happy. Go and win one for all the Dommes out there, girlfriend. Lucky to have you.”
I smiled at Sarah’s daily video while examining a large number of tiki gods around the Bellagio.
From what I could tell from my free day roaming the casino and preparing for the pageant, the theme this year was a “Tiki God Offering.” There were numerous kitschy posters of pinups being sacrificed to some sort of Polynesian god. The music being piped through the Bellagio’s lobby was clearly of ukulele origin, and I saw quite a few hula skirts and midriff Hawaiian shirts on the hotel’s servers. After cruising the lobby, I headed back to our room.
“How ca
n I use the theme to play to my strengths?” I asked Aston, who was busy working on his knife skills. He’d cut up about fifteen zucchini into paper-thin slices and was examining each one for accuracy.
Aston shrugged. “Well, maybe you should wear a white swimsuit. I hear tiki gods love the sweet, innocent look. Maybe do the rolls in your hair that looks like a big-ribboned bow? That’s cute.”
I tapped my lip. “It’s not a bad idea, playing into their theme. I mean, I don’t have to go with it, but . . .” I trailed off, an idea forming.
“But?”
I grinned, realizing what would be best. “Do you really think I’m the sweet and innocent white bathing-suit type?”
He shook his head. “Now that you mention it, I can’t really picture that.”
I wagged my finger and took a piece of zucchini and popped it into my mouth. “Precisely. I’m going to do what they least expect for a swimsuit look.”
Aston leaned forward, hoping I’d divulge the details.
I shook my head. “I’m making it a surprise,” I said, snagging another piece of crudités. “Since you’ve made my talent a surprise, you bum. Any advice at all? No hints?”
He chuckled, smugly. “Just clean out your ears.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Are they going to Q-tip me?”
“You losing faith in me, Mistress?” he asked.
Great, guilt-tripping me and calling me Mistress. “Just give me some more of those goddamned veggies and a little ranch dressing would be nice.”
I went to my iPad and looked up fabric stores in the area. Luckily, there were plenty. I’d sewn a couple of my pieces before, and I knew that what I’d want wouldn’t be in stores.
“You going to wear the blue evening gown or the green one?” he asked after providing me with a little dressing for my snack.
I chewed, crunched, and swallowed. “I think green,” I said, remembering how much he liked that one, and how amused I was to deny him it on our first date.
Aston nodded. “You’ll look fantastic, whatever you wear.”