Page 22 of Between Love and Loathing
His hot mouth and masterful tongue blurred my logical thoughts. Everything became fuzzy with heat and yearning as I begged him to fuck me over and over. The man didn’t give in. He actually grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand from his cock when I tried to bring my pussy down on him. He raised one wrist and then the other above my head as he kept lapping at my exposed chest. He bit down on the nipple when I struggled against him.
It was like he was teaching me a lesson. He was in charge. Not me.
And then he stepped close enough that we were flush, his cock between my folds and against my clit. He moved once back and forth, and I felt so badly how much I wanted him to fuck me, tears were in my eyes.
“Need another orgasm, little fighter?”
He asked it so nicely, like he cared, like he wanted me to feel good. I knew he didn’t. We were playing with fire, and I was about to get burned. “I need you to be quiet and fuck me, Dominic.”
“No. You need to ride my cock. Ride it just how I tell you. Take what you want, baby, because being sweet here won’t get you a damn thing.” There it was. His insinuation that I’d been too sweet, I’d been a pushover. I’d let Rita take my bakery from me and therefore it was my fault. “Fight for what you want, and you’ll get it, Clara. If you don’t, I’ll be sure to take it from you.”
Screw him.
I did what I wanted right then and there. I rolled my hips and worked myself up, grinding my clit against his cock. I bit my lip and watched him, watched how his neck muscles strained. I was doing that, causing his suffering, pushing his restraint to the edge while I built up toward my pleasure and my high. This was for me.
I didn’t back down this time, didn’t fight his hand on my wrist or struggle when his other hand dragged across the fabric of my remaining spaghetti strap to expose my other breast. I let his eyes rove over my tits as they bounced with my every movement.
“Damn,” he swore, “you’re beautiful when you own it. How am I supposed to be professional after this?”
I didn’t answer him. I didn’t care how he went about it. I didn’t care about anything in that moment but chasing my orgasm, and yet it evaded me even as I wiggled to-and-fro against him.
“Time to use your words, Clara. Demand what you need.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me right fucking now, Dominic.”
He smiled like he’d won before he bent down close to my lips and whispered, “So sweet to ask for a kiss. But your pussy wants my mouth more than your tongue.”
Then he took his cock away and let his mouth descend on my core again. He didn’t give in to what I wanted. I wanted him. All of him in me. And I didn’t get anywhere near close to that. Still, I screamed for him. He was a pro at what he was doing. It was very clear at how quickly he got me what I couldn’t get myself. I writhed under his tongue as exhaustion overtook me.
This time, he didn’t come up to kiss me. He pulled my underwear back in place then rearranged my dress meticulously, covering my breasts, my thighs, and my body in a way that felt almost mechanical. Gone was the sexuality, gone was his hunger. The only thing that proved he still wanted me was his naked, rock-solid cock.
I sat up and stared at him as he shoved himself back into his slacks. I was waiting for him to say this wasn’t supposed to happen or to ask for the bathroom even though he knew exactly where it was. I’m sure he’d want to wash me from his face, maybe give himself a pep talk before he rushed out of here.
He didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he let the silence fill the air as he continued to straighten himself up and then moved on to tidy the kitchen. The man was fine with a dark cloud of silence hanging over a room, but I wasn’t. “Are you going back to the party?”
“What for?”
“Well, all your employees are out there. We should mingle, right?”
“You feel like mingling, Clara?” he said with a smirk, letting his gaze scan over me again.
I ignored my stomach dipping. “I do. I want to know everyone’s face, understand everyone’s personality, and learn all their weaknesses and strengths. We’re about to be a team.”
He scoffed. “How many people worked in your bakery with you before?”
Honestly, it had mostly been me. Carl didn’t care when it opened and closed, and I’d been too anal about giving anyone else the reins. “It doesn’t matter. Here, I’m on a team, Dominic. You can be on one, too, if you want. Or you can sit in the bakery you think is so delightful and stare at that pink wall you hate so much because, well, it’s the only good thing to look at in here.”
With that, I breezed by him to grab my phone from the counter to stuff it back in my bra. Leaving a man who thought he sat on top of the world behind in his own galaxy to contemplate his worth and decisions was a rather effective technique in getting them to follow, I’d found.
Before the bakery door had even closed behind me, I heard itwhooshopen with Dominic following, that grumpy frown of his back in place.
We strode through most of his resort in silence. Down some hallways, the lights would only flicker on based off our motion. “Once it’s opened, the lighting won't be motion detected, right?”
“It could be. Why?”
“Too dark for guests. They’ll feel—”
“Like we’re cutting corners. It’s definitely something I had the electrical team discuss. We want to be green, but it’s an issue they’ll have to work on more.” I nodded, not about to say anything else. Yet he prodded, “What else do you hate?”
