Speeding up as he unveils me further, Nick pulls my panties down my legs and tosses them onto the floor, leaving me fully exposed to him. He is kneeling beside the couch, his face level with my crotch, making me almost want to squirm and cover myself up. But he’s looking at me like I am the most precious thing he has ever seen, and I don’t want to cover up at all, I want him to keep looking at me like that for as long as possible.
But when he stops looking and moves in closer, I realize I don’t want him to keep his eyes on me at all. Because while his eyes are on me, he can’t do what he’s doing now, reaching out with his tongue and lapping, flicking at my folds, awakening all of my nerve endings. I know I’m wet and it sends a shiver through my whole body to think that he’s tasting it. Tasting me.
Nick’s tongue continues to work, moving in closer until I can feel the light stubble on his chin brushing against my most intimate place as his jaw works, circling and flicking at the ball of nerves in my center. I gasp and shudder as sensations roll through me, a delicious pleasure that I could not imagine until now.
“Nick,” I gasp, my fingers trailing down to bunch in the hair at the back of his head instinctively, an almost overwhelming desire to hold him closer. His tongue dips down to probe at my entrance, even sliding inside, a powerful motion I didn’t even imagine was possible until now. It sends shudders through me, and then he is back to work on my lips, sucking them into his mouth and making waves of pleasure roll through me.
“Oh, my god,” I gasp uncontrollably as he works on me, ducking his head in time with the motion of his tongue, the pleasure increasing as he focuses more on the actions and spots that make me gasp in response. It feels so right. Nick here, like this, between my legs, the first man to go there. I know it’s right that it’s him. It doesn’t feel like anything with him could ever be wrong.
I scrape my fingers across the back of his head lightly, a subconscious movement in response to the rough rasp of his tongue on my most sensitive places, and Nick growls in return. The vibrations travel through me, making everything even more heightened, and I do it again just to get the same reaction. I can hardly catch my breath, and Nick almost buries his whole face in me as he licks and sucks with a vengeance, until I can focus on nothing but the pleasure – and then it’s carrying me higher, higher, like a boat on a rising tide – and –
And I feel a shudder pass through my whole body, a wave of illuminating ecstasy like a white light, and I can’t stop the movements that jerk through my thighs and hips, and Nick rides them all, keeping his tongue on me until they begin to ebb away.
When I come back to self-awareness enough to know what is around me, Nick is laying next to me on the sofa, bringing me into his arms. “I’m going to give you the world,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll show you that you’ll never want to belong to anyone else. Tomorrow, right after lunch. I’ll pick you up outside the office.”
And somehow I know for a fact that he’s right, and I won’t ever want to belong to another man once tomorrow is over.
CHAPTER NINE
Nick
I’m not holding back today in any measure. I’ve pulled out all of the stops to make sure this will be a day Dahlia never forgets. I can still taste her on my tongue as I adjust my cufflinks, leaning against the car outside the office, waiting for her to appear.
When she does, my heart thunders inside my chest. She is even more breathtaking than the day before in a white shift dress, simple and chaste, and yet somehow so becoming. Her blonde hair lifts behind her in the breeze as she steps out of the office, calling a goodbye over her shoulder to the receptionist.
“Lunch with your Dad?” I ask, holding out my hand to her.
She takes it, looking me up and down with a quick glance that I don’t miss. I’m exquisitely tailored today in a black suit that is the most flattering – and, not coincidentally, probably the most expensive – that I own. All for her benefit. “Yeah,” she says, taking my hand as I open the back door for her and help her in. “He wanted to catch up after yesterday.”
I don’t ask her how he’s feeling about being stood up yesterday by yours truly, because I don’t think I want to know. Besides, I can very likely guess.
I head around the other side of the car after shutting her door and slide in beside her, sharing the backseat. Up front, my driver sets off silently, knowing already the route that we are to take. I notice Dahlia staring at him, and realize that being driven around like this is probably unusual for her.
“I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible today,” I tell her, reaching out to take hold of her hands. “So, today we have a driver. I have a few things planned for us.”
“Like what?”
I give her a sly look. “Don’t you think it would be more exciting if it was a surprise?”
Dahlia’s hands tighten slightly on mine. With a quick sideways glance towards the driver, in a lowered tone, and with a light flush on her cheeks, she says, “If it’s anything like yesterday’s surprise, I can’t wait.”
I lick my lips, feeling a stirring in my cock at her words. “There will be time for that later,” I say. “First, I promised I would show you what it will be like for my wife, remember?”
I don’t miss the glow and spark of excitement in her eyes at my choice of words. She needs to know I’m serious. This isn’t just a quick fling or an act of charity towards an innocent young virgin who needs to be treated right. It’s about the long term, forever.
Our first destination isn’t far. I’m almost disappointed when the driver stops outside a large department store, the biggest and most renowned in the city. I open the door and slide out, quickly heading around to Dahlia’s side to give her my hand. She is obediently waiting for me to help her out. I know she likes being treated like a lady, and I like treating her like the princess that she is.
“Are we going shopping?” Dahlia gasps, looking up at the ornate front of the building with wonder.
“You are,” I tell her with a smile. I offer her my arm, and she takes it, falling into step beside me as we walk away from the car and towards the doors. I barely register the driver pulling away. He has his instructions, and I have no doubt that he will be here when I need him to be. “I’m going to get you whatever you want. Understand?”
“I don’t even know where to begin,” Dahlia murmurs, shaking her head. Through the big double doors we emerge into a shopping area filled with perfumes and cosmetics, where elegant women in black uniforms move silently between customers.
“Then follow me,” I tell her. I lead her to the elevator, set back behind a stall and out of sight of most people who don’t know the store well. I’ve been in enough of these places to easily spot where it will be. On the womenswear floor we get out and I lead her to one of the black-outfitted women, knowing she will be an in-house stylist here to give advice to customers.
From that moment I simply sit back. There are comfortable chairs near the changing area, and after an initial show of support to ensure Dahlia knows she is welcome to act how she wishes here, I claim one of them and watch.
Dahlia’s face is a study in delight as she moves around the space. It doesn’t take long for the assistant to sequester her into a changing room with an array of dresses over her arm, and I hear them murmuring quietly to one another about the fit and style while I can’t see them. The stylist emerges and refreshes her selection for another, then disappears again.
I’m not impatient. I simply sit and wait, feeling the anticipation rise to see Dahlia in the clothes they have chosen. At last, she steps out of the cubicle with the stylist shadowing her like a proud mother, showing off her look.
She is stunning. Her body encased in a bold pink dress with tailoring that accentuates her breasts, her ass, and her tiny waist. She wears heeled boots on her feet, giving her a few extra inches of height while remaining comfortable and chic. She looks like she was born to dress like this, expensive and stylish, her body shown to
its very best.
Well, not its very best. That’s a look that will only be reserved for me, and it doesn’t require a stitch of clothing.
“What do you think?” Dahlia asks shyly, spinning in a circle for me.
I say nothing at first, reaching into my pocket. I pull out a slim wallet and, from it, an even slimmer black credit card. “I think that if you walk out of here without buying that dress, there’s going to be a riot.”
The stylist sighs appreciatively and takes the card from between my fingers, scurrying away to ring it up. I move behind Dahlia and trace my hands across her neck, making her shiver as I reach for the price tag. I pull it free with a snap, and go to throw it onto the seat.
“Wait,” Dahlia says. “I want to keep the designer tag.”
“You’ll have plenty more dresses like this,” I tell her with an amused smile. “No need to hang onto it. Soon you won’t think this is special at all.”
“It’s the first dress you’ve bought for me,” Dahlia says, looking up into my eyes. “It’s a memory.”
I relent and press the tag into her hand, meeting her expression with a smile. “Then we’d better get you a purse to keep it in.”
We head down to the next floor for the purse, which ends up coming complete with a matching wallet and a scarf that can be worn as a purse accessory or around Dahlia’s neck. That trip down to the accessories floor in turn leads to the purchase of a necklace, nothing too extravagant but a simple and elegant touch to finish off the look. She looks perfect.
Dahlia is glowing with happiness when I take her by the hand and pull her close. “What do you think? Are you ready for the next phase?” I ask.
“Definitely,” Dahlia breathes, then laughs. “I can’t believe there’s more.”
“Oh, there’s more,” I promise her. “And I’m afraid you won’t be needing those beautiful clothes for much longer.”
“Are we going back to the hotel?”
I shrug deliberately. “Possibly.”
The car is there when we leave the department store, ready and waiting for us. We slip inside easily and then we’re off again. The day is drawing long, and the sunshine is on the verge of turning golden as we pull up outside the hotel again, after a journey through some of the most beautiful parts of the city.
“We are going up to your suite,” Dahlia says with a knowing grin. I only shake my head at her silently and help her out of her side of the car, then lead her by the hand into the lobby.
She makes as if to go towards the elevator and up to the penthouse, but I shake my head again and pull her in a different direction. I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face at her confusion.
“This is a five-star hotel,” I tell her, pulling her close into my side. “That means it has certain facilities.”
“What do you mean?” Dahlia asks. When I don’t respond, but only look ahead with a teasing smile, she follows my gaze to the ornate chrome sign announcing that we are about to enter the spa. “Oh my gosh! A spa?”
“It’s your day to be pampered, princess,” I remind her, opening the doors for her as we approach. “I booked us for the couples’ package.”
We’re given a tote bag containing plush robes and slippers to change into, and in record time I’m back in the main waiting area, not wanting to miss a moment of my time with Dahlia. When she reemerges, her oversized robe swallowing her frame and a delighted flush on her cheeks, it’s all I can do to stop myself from calling the whole thing off and leading her upstairs right there and then.
We start with a facial, green goop smeared onto both of our faces as we sit back in ergonomic chairs that look more like sculptures. I don’t mind looking like a fool if it makes her happy. She laughs at my face and moves closer to kiss me when the attendants aren’t looking, soon earning a scold when she messes up the mask around her mouth. We laugh together like children caught by the teacher, our own naughty secret, shared just between the two of us. The manicurist takes care of Dahlia’s hands while we wait for the mask to be removed, and then we are cleaned up and free to move on.
The next stop is the massage tables. Dahlia lays down on her stomach and then slips the robe off her body, allowing me to draw the towel up over her to conceal her modesty. When the door opens to admit the massage therapist, Dahlia makes a confused noise, trying to look over at me but unable to do so with her head in the table’s fitted headrest.
“Shouldn’t you get ready, too?” she asks.
I laugh, and exchange a glance with the therapist, who is laying out bowls of scented oils. “No,” I tell her. “I’m not having a massage today.”
“Don’t you want to?” Dahlia protests. I smile looking over at her, knowing how pure her spirit is. Her deepest concern is that those around are happy too.
The door closes and soft, soothing music fills the room, along with the scent of the oils. “Nick?” she says.
I don’t reply. I want her to be surprised, once again. I warm up my hands, dipping them into the oils and approach her, ready to do my work.
Because if she’s getting a sensual massage from a man, that massage is going to come from me. No one else. She is mine, and only I get to touch her.
I rub my hands across her shoulders, earning a groan in response. I work across the muscles of her arms, shoulders, and back until each is not only glistening with oil, but also relaxed and supple, free of all tension and pain. Then I work my way up each of her legs, getting dangerously high up her thighs, feeling her tense now and then at the sensation.
At last, I pull the towel away from her, exposing her bare ass to the room as I stand in front of her.
“Hey!” she protests, making a move as if to struggle up. I lay my hands on her shoulders, and finally let her know that I’m here.
“Relax, Dahlia,” I tell her. “It’s only us.”
“Nick?” she’s so surprised that she lifts her head, needing to confirm my identity with her eyes. “Wait – all of that was you?”
“I have a lot of talent in these fingers,” I say with a mischievous smile. “Lay down. I’m not finished.”
Dahlia does as she’s told, and then I begin to work her ass, massaging and kneading the skin with my hands lathered in the massage oil. Her skin is soft and smooth already, moving under my hands like satin. When the oil is worked in, at last I slip my fingers down, lower, between her legs, teasing her there.
I wait until Dahlia moans out loud to stop, and then I withdraw, telling her gently to roll over. She does, laying on her back, spread out completely naked before me. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I take the oil and rub it over her breasts, working it into the skin as before, paying special attention to her nipples until they stand stiff enough to cut glass. Then I work over the rest of her abdomen and finally down between her legs again, watching her eyelids flutter open and closed as I stoke the fire in her belly.
I can’t wait any longer. I need to have her, now. I intended to draw this out longer, to take her for more treatments, to lead her to dinner, to give her the most perfect day possible. But now I can’t wait any longer. I need her now.
“Come,” I tell her, grabbing hold of her hands to pull her up from the massage table. She comes into my arms, pliant and weak in the knees. I wrap her in her rob and tighten the tie around her waist, and lead her out of the massage room, out to the elevator, because I can’t wait a moment longer to have her in my bed.
CHAPTER TEN
Dahlia
“Is this even allowed?” I whisper, giggling from behind my hand. The elevator is empty, but it could stop at any floor to let someone else on. “Aren’t we supposed to get dressed before we leave the spa?”
Nick dumps the bag containing our clothes on the floor and reaches for me, turning my head up towards him to claim my mouth in a kiss. “I don’t care,” he tells me. “If they complain, I’ll buy the hotel. I want you right now. I need to have you.”
His voice sends a shiver through me. I don’t even
care if someone gets in with us. Nick slips his hand inside my robe and massages my bare breast as we travel up, up, up, and I don’t even care. The elevator stops and my heart pounds, but it opens onto an empty corridor, the penthouse suite door just ahead.
We stumble through it and into the privacy of the suite, and Nick tears at my soft robe, dropping it to the floor as I walk backwards towards the bedroom, our mouths never parting. His hands pore over my body, stroking, caressing, groping, sending sparks trailing behind every touch as I pass through the bedroom door. I find my confidence and reach for him, tugging the front of his robe open, wanting him as naked as I am.
I breathlessly take in the sight of his body as he breaks the kiss to yank the robe down off his shoulders, baring himself before me. Despite the fact that he is so much older than me, his body is fit and toned, even more so than the boys my own age. Below his defined abs his cock bounces hungrily, a hard rod that moves as he walks, closing the distance between us once more to bury his face against my neck, kissing and nipping at my skin.
“I want you,” he growls, walking me backwards until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed. “You’re mine.”
I am, and I know it. I let myself fall back before him, landing on the luxuriously soft bed on satin sheets that are another layer of sensation in themselves, smooth and cool on my skin. Nick quickly moves over the top of me, leaning on his hands as he ducks his face to mine, then trails kisses down over my breasts, thumbing my eager nipples, letting his fingers slip down between my legs to slide into the wetness there. I shudder at his touch, desperately wanting more.
“Dahlia?” Nick asks.
My eyes flutter open to see him, above me, a questioning look on his face. I know what he wants me to say. What he needs to hear. “Take me,” I tell him urgently. “Make me yours.”
It’s all the encouragement that he needed. Before I know it I feel something new at my entrance, tilting my head to look down and see him, impossibly thick and long before me, lining himself up. A trail of slickness at the top of him mixes with my own wetness, and then he finds the right alignment and I gasp at the feel of him entering me, only the very tip, then resting, waiting for me to catch my breath.
Falling For Her Dad's Boss: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 181) Page 4