Page 34 of Accepted Precedent
“You can’t do that again.”
“Until you use your safe word, I intend to have my face between your legs for the foreseeable future. Do you want me to stop?” I should say yes. Instead, I shake my head. “Then your cunt is mine to play with whenever I want.”
He leaves me pressed against the counter and steps aside to wash his hands, then continues with slicing the cheddar and gruyere. I’ve wanted Mickey more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. The damage is already done. What harm is there with an innocent tongue-lashing between friends? I can indulge myself for just one night. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure he keeps his distance. It’ll be no different than what we’ve done for years.
My phone buzzes in my purse, but I ignore it. “Am I allowed to move now?”
“No,” he growls, with no further explanation, restarting the heat on the stove.
My legs are still jelly, but I lift onto my elbows, keeping my weight on the counter. “Mick, I can’t just remain here bent over for your viewing pleasure for the rest of the night.”
Mid-swipe of the cheese on the slicer, he pauses and glances over. “It’s not for my pleasure. When are you going to realize the only reason I want to tame you is to free you? Until you admit you’re mine as much as I’m yours, you can remain there with your arse and pussy on full display, begging for me to slide inside you.”
“And what happens if I get up?”
“There is no punishment I can grant you that you won’t enjoy, angel… Except me leaving. So, you can wait there patiently until I tell you to move, or I walk out that door leaving you a dripping mess.”
“You’d really go?” I question, unsure what my decade-long crush has in store.
“Probably not.” He smirks and returns to preparing the sandwiches. “I told you: you’re mine to take care of, Evie. Let me.”
His words pierce through all of the shields I’ve put up, and I’m tired of shoving aside my own wants and needs. Confident he won’t go, I lift off the counter and close the distance, taking the cheese out of his hands and setting it aside. Between the woman I spoke to on the phone earlier, Andrew’s insistence that this is all okay, and my post-orgasm glow, the only thing I want is Mickey. I don’t want to deny it anymore. I take his face in my hands and bring his lips within a breath of mine, and whisper, “You say you’re mine? Prove it. Show me I shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting you.”
Mickey’s lips crash into mine in a bruising kiss I feel all the way to my toes. There’s nothing gentle about how, with each swipe of his tongue against mine, he steals away my shame, my desperation, and every ounce of regret I’ve harbored for a decade. In this moment, it’s just Mickey and me—two lost souls who finally found each other. The outside world, the election, Andrew’s political career… none of it exists.
I claw at his shirt, unable to get close enough, making him chuckle against my lips. “You’re a greedy little thing.”
“You’re half-correct.” I pull back and my swollen lips tingle. “I’m greedy, but I’m certainly not little.”
Mick grips the hem of my blouse, and I gasp as he rips it up the middle. “This.” He drags a knuckle from between my breasts down to my now aching clit. “This is the most perfect body I’ve ever touched. Don’t you dare speak negatively about it. You’re little if I say you’re little.”
“Okay,” I breathe, hardly able to speak.
He rubs his knuckle over my clit. “Let’s try that again.”
“Yes… Daddy?”
“Does my little angel need to come again?”
I press my lips together to stifle a groan. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He kisses me softly and whispers, “Then you’re going to admit that you’re brilliant and beautiful.”
“I… I’m brilliant and beautiful.”
He rubs faster. “Again.”
“I’m brilliant and—oh fuck—beautiful.”
Roughly kissing me, he picks up his pace and I can’t hold on a moment longer. I shatter, and even though it wasn’t as amazing as my last orgasm, I still struggle to catch my breath.
“On your knees, Evelyn.”
I do as he commands, falling to my knees and sitting back on my heels. As I reach for his belt, he stops me, gripping my wrist. “Please?”
