by Rebel Carter
But most of all, I wanted him.
“Where were you going?” He asked me.
“To my suite,” I said, turning my face into his hand. He had nice hands, softer than I thought they would be, but I could feel the calluses on his fingertips. The warmth of his palm was reassuring, drawing me closer in the cool of the dark room and I ate it up eagerly.
“What the fuck for?” He was annoyed. I could tell by the gruffness of his question, but I wasn’t going to let it deter me. Not when I’d gotten him into bed with me. I had more than a few cards in my hand and I was going to play them to the best of my ability.
I rolled my eyes and bit his thumb. “I didn’t want an awkward morning,” I said, lips still against his thumb.
“What the hell would have been awkward about it?” He moved closer, the arm around my waist tightening, his hand flexing against the curve of my hip.
I shrugged, knowing he could feel the gesture. “I’m sorry you had to babysit me,” I said finally and flushed with embarrassment. It was true. I hated that I’d been a burden to him. I didn’t want that. Never that. “You came here to play and instead…” My voice trailed off, and I ducked my head, lowering my forehead to his chest.
“There’s no instead,” Law gruffed out, hand sliding in my hair.
I lifted my head. “But–”
“Are you pretending we didn’t have the talk we did before bed?” His fingers flexed and he twisted his hand in my hair, tugging on the strands to tilt my head back. We couldn’t see each other, but I knew he was looking at me. That if the lights were on, we’d be eye-to-eye. I swallowed hard and blinked, grateful for the dark.
“Well, no. But that doesn’t mean you were happy tonight.”
“Neither were you, princess.” I felt a flutter of warmth in my belly at the pet name and Law’s hand moved, fingers beginning to rub a circle against my hip. “You should know what I want from you after our talk.”
I did know. Or at least, I hoped I knew, but I wanted to hear the man say it. “What do you want?” I asked and he chuckled, the hand at my hip moving to pull the robe up, bunching the soft fabric of it into his fist.
“You want to hear me say it, don’t you princess?” If a man could purr then was the sound Law would be making. He would be purring like a satisfied lion at getting what he wanted. He was enjoying this as much as I was. My urge to hear him answer my question matched by his own desire to hear me return the favor.
I smiled, biting my lip. “Yes,” I told him, pressing my thighs together. The friction of it a blessing and nowhere close enough to what I needed. Only Law’s mouth, his hands, his dick could give me that. I shivered, held my breath, and waited for him to speak again.
“I want you to be my little girl.”
I sucked in a breath, and not just because he’d said the words I’d been desperately wishing to hear since he’d called me ‘his girl’, or when he’d threatened to spank me in Sik Gaek. Words I’d wanted to hear since he’d eaten me out on my table and left me wanting more. My breath was caught short, stolen by the deft play of Law’s fingers against my skin as they slipped beneath the robe I wore. He slid them along my hip, slowly moving down the slope of my side until his hand was pressed flat against me, fingers just inches away from my now aching clit.
My fingers flexed and I began to undo the buttons of his dress shirt. I stopped when I had his shirt half undone, my fingers hovering just above his skin. I could feel the warmth of it against my palm but I didn’t go any closer. I was waiting for him to say something, to tell me he wanted me to touch him, but most of all I was waiting because he was too.
He hadn’t moved his hand since slipping it inside of my robe. His fingers were warm and gentle against my skin, touch so light that if I wasn’t concentrating on where his hand was I might think I had imagined it. I moved, flexing my hips forward, trying to get closer to his hand, but still I didn’t touch him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, and he moved, but just a finger, the pad of it dipping lower on my body until it was now pressing against my hood. He began to slowly draw a circle against the tender flesh and when I didn’t answer him, his hand in my hair flexed in warning. “Honey, answer me.”
Right. I needed to talk. It was hard to remember what the fuck I was supposed to be doing when he was touching me. Not when I knew he could and would give me exactly what I needed. What my body craved and wanted from a partner. It would be good with Law. I knew that. The problem I had was keeping my ass focused and not drifting off into the euphoria that I knew could pull me under being with a man like Law.
“You didn’t let me touch you in my apartment,” I told him. “Do you not like being touched?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then why did you not let me move? And my hands? You had them tied, told me to keep them off you.” It had been hot. Sexy in the best of ways with each and every move Law had made that night. Ticked every one of my boxes.
He began to move again, the hand between my thighs dipping lower so that he could trail a finger along my slit. I moaned and he let go of my hair. He caught my hand that was still hovering above his chest and pressed it down. My hand flattened against his muscled chest and I went still. The firm muscle under my fingers was warm and I could feel a dusting of chest hair prickling against my palm.
I had welcomed the dark earlier in my vulnerability, but now? God, I wanted to see him in the light.
“If I had let you touch me then it would have been all over.” He pressed his hand down over mine, palm warm, his fingers sliding between mine. “If I had let you touch me, I wouldn’t have let you go, Honey. Didn’t matter if I knew you wanted what I wanted. That you wanted this.” He squeezed my hand gently. “I would have taken you.”
“I wanted to be taken.”
“I know. Keeping your hands off me was the only way to stop that.”
“But you’re letting me touch you now,” I pointed out.
“I am.”
My heart began to pound at his answer. I am. Did this mean he meant to...to... “Does that mean you’re taking me?” I asked, voice breathy, his finger now stroking against my clit in feather light touches. He moved, pressing a finger into me as he began to speed up. I shuddered, my feet pressing against the bed, raising my hips up to meet his strokes.
Law hummed in answer. “I am. God, you’re going to be mine, Honey. Do you want that?” The fingers playing over my clit moved to dip into my folds and I moaned at the first thrust of his fingers into me. He wet his fingers, my slickness allowing his fingers to glide over my flesh, and he was circling my clit again. Faster and faster, each and every touch driving my body closer to the edge and I cried out, a sob escaping me from the pleasure Law was giving me.
It had been good with a lot of partners. Some of them vanilla and some of them Doms, not all of them Daddies, but there was just...god, there was something extraordinary about being under the practiced hands of a Daddy, even if we were not playing yet. We were exploring, our bodies, hands and mouths still new to each other, and I moved forward trying to kiss him. I missed, my mouth glancing off his chin, and then again off his upper lip before I was able to hit my target.
We kissed, our mouths slanting together hungrily and I took as much as I could give. My tongue slid against his and I moaned into his mouth when he dropped my hand in favor of my breasts. He curled a hand over one, his fingers moving to twist my nipple. He rolled the sensitive flesh between his fingers, the sharpness of it lighting my body up in a new way.
“Do you want that?” He husked out against my mouth. The obscene sound of his fingers slick with my arousal sliding through my folds, dipping in and out of me filled my ears. It sounded so fucking good.
“Yes,” I sobbed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and yanking his mouth back to mine, but Law was having none of it. He moved, dropping his head lower to replace the fingers that had played with my nipple with his mouth, and god, if that wasn’t magnificent.
“Law,” I whisp
ered, hips stuttering, trying to keep pace with his hand that mercifully continued to stroke me. “Law!” This time it wasn’t a whisper, it was a shout of pleasure. The edge he had been driving me closer and closer to was finally there, and I plunged over the side of it gleefully. The orgasm he’d given me on my kitchen table had been wonderful. The release of that had washed over me in ways that satisfied my body’s needs, but this? This was fucking magnificent. It was pleasure and need released in its most pure form and the ecstasy of it left me breathless and weak, my body shaking against him, hot under his hands. He kept circling my nipple with his tongue, lapping at my tender flesh while I sobbed against him, fingers twisting in the loose fabric of his half undone shirt.
“Law.”
“Honey.”
I lifted my head and aimed a kiss at where I thought his lips were. I hit pay dirt when our mouths connected and I sighed against his. “I like it when you say my name like that.”
He didn’t answer, just kissed me, fingers still easing me down through my orgasm. When he withdrew his hand from my pussy, I made a sound of annoyance. If I could, I would keep it there forever. His hand pressed to my pussy, thumb to my clit and my cream smeared over his fingertips. He gathered me up against him and that was when I felt his dick against my thigh. I dropped my hand, automatically reaching for it, but only managed to brush my palm against the head of it before he pulled me away.
“But I want you to feel good too,” I said.
“Not yet.”
“But, Law, I began again when he moved off the bed and pulled me with him, hauling me up into his arms and making me shriek in surprise. I wrapped an arm around his neck and grabbed onto his shoulder to stay upright, but he paid me zero attention and kept walking through the dark room. “Law!! What are you doing? Put me down!”
“No.” He shifted me in his arms, hiking me higher. I was about to demand he tell me what the hell he meant by no, when he spoke again. “We’re getting in the shower,” he said, already striding towards it.
My mouth snapped shut. I could live with no if we got in the shower. Getting in the shower meant a naked Law and a naked Law meant I was going to get my hands and my mouth on his dick.
Chapter Nineteen
LAW
Getting Honey in the shower was easy because she was sweet again. She’d been quiet, her hands clasped in front of her while I switched on the taps, hit the button for the shower and tested the water making sure it was warm enough. She’d stepped into the shower without a word when I nodded at her to do so.
“You’re coming in, right?” She asked when she was standing inside the glass enclosed shower. She was standing in the middle, the spray of the shower head missing her, sliding down only half of her body. Stray water droplets sprayed up and against the glass between us and she moved forward, placing a hand on the glass not making a move to hide her nakedness from me. I liked that she was confident. I liked littles, ones that played in shyness, blushing cheeks and demure looks, but when it came to a submissive’s body I did not indulge the same behavior. A submissive had no need for shame with their Dom. Any partner I played with had the body I wanted. There were times when a submissive’s confidence was lacking, uncertainty and twisted body image making their presence known, but as their Dominant it was my job to actively take apart those threads until they had no bearing on my submissive. Their love of their own body put back together in the form of what Honey was now giving me.
Pure want. A joy found in sharing her body with me. She liked that I was looking at her, wanted me to do it. I could tell by the way she raised the hand not pressed to the glass and braced her elbow against the rapidly steaming glass. We stared at each other in the low light of the bathroom and I let my eyes wander slowly over her body. She was a beautiful woman, her dark hair down and curling, the ends of it sticking to her body from the water. She had full hips, and a soft belly, tits that were soft and full, the brown of her nipples prettily contrasting against her tan skin. My fingers twitched, the memory of what her nipples felt like had my dick hardening.
“Yes, I’m getting in,” I told her, shrugging out of my dress shirt and tossing it to the side on the small table that sat there. Shit like magazines, lotion and candles lined its surface, all meant for a comfortable stay. I tossed my shirt onto the table, covering the items but not before wondering if Honey like candles or what kind of lotion she would want rubbed into her skin.
“Hurry up,” Honey said, tapping a finger against the glass.
Those two words had my dick jumping. I gave her a disapproving look, though I enjoyed her behavior. She was a brat through and through. Even if we were just being together in the most basic sense of the word it was enjoyable to have her acting this way. She was comfortable. She was happy. She was bratting as she pleased, even without a scene.
These were all good signs. Honey would not be a flash in the pan or one time hookup. This thing between us was going to have legs.
“Now who’s bossy?” I asked her, unbuckling my belt and pants. Her muffled giggle sounded through the glass, but it was cut off when I finished undressing, adding my pants and belt to the growing pile of clothing on the table. When I got no answer I looked up from removing the last thing I wore–boxers–and saw Honey’s eyes were wide.
“What?”
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
“What?” I asked again.
Her eyes moved up and down the length of me, and she pressed her hand flat to the glass.
“You’re beautiful,” she blurted out. I snorted at her words. I’d been called a lot of things. Beautiful was not one of them. “Like seriously, fucking gorgeous.”
I ignored her words, but I liked how much enjoyment she got from looking at me. I had a good body, I knew that. I worked out six days a week maintaining the body I’d earned from keeping order in the streets, but it was a body that wasn’t perfect. There were scars from gunshots and knives, and the tattoos that I used to cover most of them, though I’d given up on that years into the game. Half of my chest was a mass of ink work, a falcon with its wings outstretched and soaring, a star above it and below a forest of plane trees, their gnarled branches twisting into one word: Sokolov. The scene was serene, calming, and it had been my solace–a constant reminder not to forget who I was. That I was, above all things Lawson Sokolov. Even when the money had been good, the seat at the table with the mafiosos and cartel kingpins a little too choice, their goodwill flowing like the liquor they poured for me, that I did not lose sight of my goal.
That I remained my own man at all costs. The pleasure and power those men and women offered me was fleeting, it all came at a price. Everything did.
Honey looked like she was going to go on speaking, which was fine. I liked listening to her. I raised the hand that I’d had between her sweet thighs and inhaled deeply. The sweet and musky smell of it had my mouth watering. I hadn’t gotten to taste her, not like the night before and slipped my fingers inside of my mouth sucking off what was left of her cum.
Honey made a strangled sound and I raised an eyebrow at her while I licked my fingers clean.
“Get the fuck in here.”
“Manners.” I made no move forward and instead closed my eyes, taking my time sucking her taste off my skin. If she wanted me to do a damn thing she was going to learn to show some respect.
“Please. Please, Daddy get in the shower with me.”
There it was.
I smiled at her. I reached down and closed a hand around my dick, giving it a slow pull. “Keep asking nicely like a good little girl.”
Her eyes were wide and locked onto where my hand was slowly working my hardening dick. I groaned, the ache in my balls growing with each stroke. If I wasn’t careful I was going to fucking finish before I got my hands on her. Having Honey climax with my fingers inside of her, her body bowing, hips straining against my hand while she sobbed out my name had nearly been enough to make me lose control like some snot nosed kid getting his first taste of pus
sy. I’d had to get us up and out of the bed to hold on to my control. I wasn’t used to feeling like this. There had never been another submissive that could drive me this wild, made me lose all reason and thought, and I hadn’t even been inside of Honey yet. I’d tasted her, felt her, but not had her.
Jesus Christ when I finally had her...
“Please, Daddy.” Honey’s voice pulled me away from thoughts of how fast I would lose control when I had my thick cock inside of her.
I opened the shower, the warm steam rolling out over me. “Do you even know what you’re asking for?”
She shook her head, water flying from the tips of her long dark hair. “No, but I want it if it’s with you.”
“Good answer.” I shut the door behind me and stepped in close to her, forcing her back under the shower spray. The warm water hit her back and Honey’s eyes drifted closed when I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her towards me. I lowered my head, running my lips along her shoulder. The warm water splashed down around us, the heat and steam of the shower wrapping us up in a cocoon that shut out the outside world. There was no Cairn, no shitty fuckwad of an ex, there weren’t billions of fucking dollars waiting for me to finalize details.
There was only here and now. Just us.
“I want to taste you,” Honey whispered. I froze where I had been kissing a lazy path up her shoulder to her neck and leaned back to look down at her. Water clung to her eyelashes and she was smiling, looking up at me. “Please let me suck your cock, Daddy. Can I?”
How the fuck was I supposed to say no to her when she was looking at me like this? All doe eyes and ‘please Daddy,’ it was going to be impossible to deny her a damn thing if we made a go at this. I smoothed my hands down her sides and cupped her hips, fingers digging into her skin.
“Yes. Suck my thick Daddy cock, princess.”