The Daddy and the Dom

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The Daddy and the Dom Page 4

by Julia Sykes


  “A few times. My family owns a similar restaurant back home, and the food here is almost as good.”

  I leaned forward, latching onto the first real thing I’d learned about him. “Your family owns a restaurant? Where?”

  His expression shuttered, closing him off from me. “New York.”

  “Oh. So that’s home for you?” I fiddled with my napkin in my lap, my anxiety returning with his sudden distance.

  “Not anymore.” He blew out a heavy breath, and his smile returned. “I like it here, in Cambridge.”

  “What’s your favorite thing about living here?” I asked quickly, relieved that his tension had passed.

  He studied me with fresh hunger. “I should think that would be obvious. I got to meet you.”

  My breath caught in my throat. It was a startlingly intense thing to say, but it made my pulse race.

  “I’m glad I met you, too,” I said.

  He reached out and picked up his champagne glass, raising it for a toast. I mirrored his movement and touched my glass to his.

  “Cheers,” he said simply, but the toast felt much heavier than the lighthearted sentiment. We were drinking to celebrate the fact that we’d met. I tipped my glass back and allowed a generous sip of the bubbly liquid to coat my tongue. I was savoring more than the decadent flavor; I was relishing this moment with him. It seemed surreal that just last night, I’d doubted his interest in me. Already, I felt more bonded to him than I had to any other man, and we’d barely shared anything about ourselves. I wanted to know more about him, but he spoke first.

  “So, tell me about your studies,” he said. Again, it wasn’t exactly a question, and again, I didn’t mind. I kind of liked how direct he was. It was refreshing and sexy.

  “I’m an Art History major. I just declared this semester. My dad wanted me to study Psychology like him, but I wasn’t really passionate about it.”

  His eyes sparkled with something like yearning. “I’d love to study something like Art History. That’s amazing.”

  “Are you into art?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve studied it a little. I’ve studied a little of everything. It’s more the idea of it that I like. You’re not choosing the practical route, but you’re following your passion. That’s very brave of you. Not many people make that kind of choice.”

  Pleasure flooded my system at the compliment. I’d never thought of it that way. In fact, I’d worried that I was making a foolish choice. My father certainly thought so.

  “Thank you,” I said. “What was your major?”

  His expression went carefully blank again, and my stomach dropped. I’d touched on a tense subject again without meaning to.

  “I didn’t go to college. I wanted to, but I didn’t get the opportunity. It’s one of the reasons I moved to Cambridge. I wanted to see what it was like, living in a college town.” His gaze turned inward. “Sometimes, I think I’m torturing myself.”

  I was sure he hadn’t intended to say that last part aloud.

  I reached out and covered his hand with mine, calling his attention back to me. I wasn’t certain if finances had prevented him from attending college or something else, but I wasn’t going to press him about it. It clearly was a sore subject for him, and I didn’t want to ruin the evening.

  “Well, I’m glad you moved here,” I said fervently. “Really glad.”

  His smile returned, and relief washed through me. He turned his hand so his palm pressed against mine, and his thumb caressed my fingers. “Me too.”

  The rest of dinner was a little more lighthearted. Joseph shared his favorite dishes with me, occasionally feeding me from his plate. It was strange and intense and incredibly sensual.

  By the time we finished dessert, I was still hungry, but not for food.

  “Do you want to come back to my place?” I asked when we were back in the privacy of his car. “Not just to drop me off, I mean.”

  “I’d love that. Thank you.”

  His gratitude warmed my insides. He wasn’t taking my offer for granted; he hadn’t expected to buy my affection with a fancy meal.

  But I was more than ready to give him what we both so desperately wanted. It wasn’t at all like me to fall into bed so quickly, but with Joseph, I couldn’t hold back. I didn’t want to.

  Chapter Five

  Ashlyn

  Joseph’s kiss was scorching, branding. Every kiss before his had been a fumbling, passionless affair. I’d never known what I was missing until our lips touched for the first time. He was harsh and demanding, but he held me with reverence even as his mouth subjugated mine. I felt cherished and utterly consumed at the same time, and I knew he felt the same desperate need that tormented me.

  We moved through my apartment and into my bedroom in a frenzy, and by the time we closed the door behind us, my sweater had already been stripped off and tossed aside.

  “Turn on the light,” he said, low and rough. “I want to see you.”

  A delighted flush heated my skin, and I did as he commanded. I wanted to see him, too. I’d felt his hard body while we’d made out the night before, but we hadn’t been naked together.

  Even though I didn’t usually strip down around men, I wasn’t self-conscious about my body. I put in enough hours swimming laps every week that I was used to my curves being on display in my bathing suit.

  This was different, though. Because Joseph was watching me like a starving man at a feast, and I was still covered by my jeans and bra.

  He began to touch me with shockingly gentle hands, his slow, reverent movements in contrast to how he’d been kissing me so roughly. His fingertips skimmed around my waist before coming up behind my back to unhook my simple black bra. He slid the straps down my arms, his eyes fixed on my chest as he slowly revealed my breasts. His jaw clenched. I got the feeling he was holding himself back, savoring the sight of me instead of pinning me down and kissing me the way he had last night.

  I shivered as cool air caressed my heated skin, and my nipples pebbled to hard peaks. He ran his knuckles over the needy buds. I gasped and arched into his touch, craving more.

  A rumbling sound of pleasure left his chest, and he cupped my breasts fully, his big hands completely encompassing them. His calloused palms teased against my nipples as he learned the weight and shape of my breasts, still touching me with aching care.

  “Joseph, please.” I needed more. I leaned into him and clutched at his upper arms.

  He withdrew his touch, and I whined my protest.

  “Shhh,” he urged. “I’m not finished.”

  His long fingers trailed down my abdomen, teasing along the top of my jeans before he deftly freed the button at the front. He pulled down the zipper in a torturously slow motion, but I didn’t beg for him to go faster. I craved more contact, but the way he studied me with such rapt fascination was addictive.

  He finally hooked his thumbs through the top of my jeans and my panties, and he pulled them down my legs. He dropped to his knees before me, his eyes riveted on my sex as I compliantly stepped out of my jeans and flats.

  He simply stared for several seconds. I shifted on my feet, but not out of anxiety; it was all I could do to stop myself from rocking my hips toward his lips in wanton invitation.

  He leaned in, close enough that his hot breath teased across my clit. Without thinking, I spread my legs, craving his touch. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss just above my clit.

  “Beautiful.” The word vibrated against my flesh as his lips brushed across my skin.

  “Please,” I begged again.

  He shot me a wicked grin, his eyes lifting to meet mine. “You want me to kiss your pretty pussy, angel?”

  Angel. He’d called me that once before. It only made me feel more worshipped, and I fell deeper into his thrall, intoxicated by his reverence for me.

  I licked my lips. I did want him to put his mouth on me, but there was something I craved even more.

  “I want to see you, too.”

  I gras
ped his arms and guided him back to his feet. He allowed me to direct his movements; he was far too strong for me to physically force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

  He nodded slightly, giving me permission to learn his body in the same way he’d explored mine.

  I dipped my fingers beneath the hem of his tight black shirt, trailing my nails over his defined abs as I slowly lifted the cotton material. His muscles rippled and danced beneath my light touch, but he didn’t try to hasten my movements.

  When I’d raised his shirt enough to reveal his strong chest, he lifted it over his head, fully revealing his ripped torso. I wrapped my hands around his corded arms, loving the feel of his sculpted muscles.

  I slid my hands downward, feeling his forearms before shifting my touch to his jeans. I wasn’t nearly as graceful as he’d been when he unbuttoned my pants. My fingers trembled from the intensity of the suppressed lust coursing through my system.

  He didn’t seem to mind. He remained perfectly still as I removed his jeans, feeling his powerful thighs as I stripped him. He toed off his boots and stepped out of his pants, leaving his body bare except for his boxers.

  I hesitated, feeling suddenly shy. I could see the huge bulge of his erection straining against the cotton. It was intimidating, and I wasn’t certain if I was bold enough to continue.

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was strained, but deep with sincerity.

  I glanced up at him and was immediately captured in his flame-blue gaze. His jaw ticked from the effort of holding himself back. He was fighting his animal urges for me; he didn’t want to violate my trust.

  That knowledge emboldened me. Never breaking eye contact with him, I tugged his boxers down, baring him completely, just as he’d done to me.

  He allowed me to stare up at him in rapture for several long seconds.

  “Look at me,” he finally commanded.

  I knew he wasn’t ordering me to look him in the eye.

  My gaze finally dropped to his cock, and I sucked in a sharp gasp. He was even bigger than I’d imagined, his thick erection straining toward me.

  A desire to give him pleasure flooded me more strongly than any carnal need I’d ever known. My lips parted, and I leaned forward to take him into my mouth.

  His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging me back.

  “No,” he bit out.

  I glanced up at him, startled by his refusal. Before rejection could sting my heart, he explained himself.

  “I don’t want to come in your mouth. Not this time.”

  “Oh,” I breathed. I realized I didn’t want that, either. I wanted him inside me, stretching and filling me so we were connected in the most intimate way possible.

  He bent down and grasped my waist in his strong hands, lifting me to my feet as though I weighed nothing. He guided me to the bed, settling his big body over me the way he’d done last night. I loved the heavy feel of his muscular frame holding me down. It made me feel small and deliciously feminine, filling me with that strange mix of power and vulnerability.

  I reached up and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer.

  He hissed in a sharp breath. It wasn’t a sound of pleasure.

  I immediately withdrew my touch. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I took a hit to my ribs earlier, but I’m fine. I’d just forgotten about it, is all.” He gave me a crooked smile. “You’re very distracting.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He cocked his head at me, considering for a moment. Then, something shifted in his eyes, and they darkened in a way I didn’t fully understand.

  “Put your hands over your head,” he ordered.

  I complied, not even thinking of protesting.

  “Good girl. Keep them there. No matter what I do to you, keep them there.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked, more intrigued than disconcerted by his command.

  He dipped his head toward me, and his teeth grazed along the shell of my ear.

  “Tease you. Torment you. Make you beg and scream my name.” He sucked on my earlobe, nipping at it gently. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, angel? Tell me.”

  His words were heavier than simple dirty talk. He needed my permission to continue with this game. I’d never engaged in anything remotely kinky, but I’d never been this hot and wet for a man in my life.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I want it. I want you, Joseph.”

  He growled his savage approval, and the sound vibrated against my neck, making my sensitive skin spark and dance with awareness. I shivered and tilted my head to the side, exposing my throat to him.

  I sucked in a sharp gasp when his palm settled over the front of my neck, his big hand nearly encircling it. He didn’t apply any pressure, and to my surprise, fear didn’t spike through me. Instead, lust flooded my system as I became fully aware of how small I was in his grip, the power he held over me. The domineering yet gentle way he handled me made my clit pulse, and wetness coated my thighs.

  His thumb stroked the line of my vulnerable artery, and I shuddered. A husky groan left my chest, and I barely recognized that I’d made the sensual sound. I felt oddly light, disconnected from my normal self. With Joseph, I was freed from my anxiety and overactive brain. All I could focus on was him: his powerful body; his unique, masculine scent; the low, rumbling words of praise he uttered. He told me I was beautiful and perfect. His angel.

  I became drunk on his attentions, on the way he worshipped my body even as he took full command of my entire being.

  He stroked his fingers over my skin, as though he wanted to memorize my every curve. He kissed my breasts, pulling my nipples into his mouth and nipping at the sensitive buds. I began to writhe beneath him. I wanted to touch him, too, but I kept my arms securely over my head, obedient to his will.

  “Please, please, please,” I murmured over and over again in a desperate mantra. I needed him inside me. My pussy ached for him, and I was no longer afraid of his size. I craved to connect with him.

  Finally, he brushed a kiss across my lips. “I’ll be right back, angel.”

  He started to push off me, but I didn’t want him to put even an inch of space between us. I was too enraptured by the feel of his weight pinning me down.

  “No!” I protested, a little wildly.

  “I need to get a condom,” he explained, but his face was tight with his own need. He didn’t want to leave me, either. Not even for a minute.

  I forced myself to nod my agreement. A condom was smart, responsible.

  I ignored the animal part of my brain that wanted his hot cum to brand me deep inside.

  His heat left me for mere seconds when he went to retrieve what we needed from his jeans pocket. He quickly sheathed himself and settled his weight over me once again.

  “I need you inside me,” I panted, arching my back and rubbing my peaked nipples against his hard chest. “Please, Joseph. I need you.”

  He bit out a curse, and I felt his hard cock line up with my slick entrance. He pushed in slowly, showing the same care for my wellbeing he’d demonstrated so many times already. He was just as big as I’d imagined, and although he took his time with me, a slight burn accompanied his penetration.

  My breath came in short, shallow gasps as I struggled to accommodate him. The way he stretched my body to its limit made me feel almost unbearably full, but I was already addicted to the feel of being completely overwhelmed by him. I welcomed the burn, the edge of discomfort that came along with pleasure.

  “Hold on to me,” he urged. “I’ve got you.”

  Finally, I moved my arms from where they’d been stretched above my head. My fingers curved into his shoulders, clinging onto him as he entered me to the hilt. He groaned at the effort of holding himself back, but he remained still inside me for several long seconds. My inner walls contracted around him, struggling to adjust to his size.

  He captured my lips i
n a tender kiss, coaxing my mouth open so his tongue could slide against mine. I sighed and relaxed beneath him, my inner muscles finally easing enough to allow him to move within me. He pulled almost all the way out, his cockhead dragging across my g-spot. Stars burst across my vision as pleasure sizzled through me. When he began to enter me again, I rocked my hips up to meet him, craving more of the blissful stimulation.

  He took up a slow, steady pace, stroking into me with care. But I could feel the tension in his lips where they caressed mine, and I knew it was almost painfully difficult for him to restrain himself.

  I didn’t want him to show any restraint.

  I boldly wrapped my legs around him and sank my teeth into his lower lip.

  His control snapped. He snarled into my mouth and slammed into me, driving deep and hard. He began to take me without finesse, and I met each of his wild, harsh thrusts. He hit the sensitive spot inside me over and over again, sending me flying impossibly higher.

  I cried out, and my muscles began to ripple around him as my orgasm rushed through me with blinding force. He kissed me harder, his tongue claiming my mouth in the same way his cock claimed my pussy.

  My orgasm triggered his, and he snarled his pleasure as his cock jerked inside me. He’d taken me, marked me as his. The knowledge kept me floating in ecstasy, even as I came down from my high. Little aftershocks of pleasure crackled through my system, and he remained firmly seated inside me, as though he couldn’t bear to be parted from me, either.

  He grasped my hips and rolled, positioning my body so I was draped over him. I rested my cheek on his sculpted chest, breathing him in as I lingered in bliss. He resumed praising me, murmuring about how beautiful and perfect I was. The residual physical pleasure and joy elicited by his reverent words cocooned me in a warm glow. I relaxed into him, and his sweet endearments lulled me to sleep.

  Chapter Six

  Ashlyn

  I was an idiot. Because I was pretty sure I was falling in love, and that wasn’t something I would have thought possible. Certainly not so fast. I’d spent every free moment with Joseph over the last ten days, and while I still didn’t know him well, I couldn’t help falling for him. I wasn’t accustomed to anyone truly caring about me, and before meeting him, I’d found it difficult to trust people.

 

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