Page 89 of Between Love and Loathing
“And?” She pushed me to continue.
“And they taste as good as your pussy.” I let the compliment fly. “Happy?”
She smirked and blushed at the same time. “I’ll take that from you.”
“Now, my turn.”
She rolled her eyes like she wasn’t at all interested, but that was fine. I was going to make her beg anyway. She wanted to try to prove that the customer was always right. That wasn’t the case here.
I lifted her onto the island counter and then I glided my hand over her body, up to her neck, to push her back down onto the counter slowly. She went willingly and let me lift her sleep shirt inch by inch. Immediately, I realized she’d left her underwear off and I brushed my hand over her sex. “Look how you listen when I tell you something while I’m playing with your pussy. I should do that more often, it seems. Maybe you won’t fight me as much.”
“Please be quiet,” she ground out, but her hips rocked back and forth over my fingers, her arousal coating me. “Just— I want you, Dominic.”
I knew she did. She’d begged me at the office, and her pussy didn’t forget that so easily. My dick didn’t either, but even still, I took my time as I kissed her smooth stomach, then her ribs, then I focused my efforts on her nipples, biting them just the way she liked.
Her hands were in my hair as she tried to hurry me along, but I was taking my time here. I was proving a point. Maybe to her and maybe to myself. My cock strained against my trousers, but I didn’t undo the belt. I let her pussy soak my fingers instead.
“Dominic, I’m not kidding. Please, I want you.”
“Exactly what do you want now?”
“I want you to fuck me.” She said it fast, but I shook my head slow.
“Wrong. You see, I’m the artist and the expert here, baby.” I knelt down in front of her. “You want to feel what you do to me first, and then you want me to eat that pretty pussy. That’s what you want. And I’m going to show you. Spread your legs.”
She didn’t hesitate, and I realized my house had been imperfect before. Her on my island is what the house needed. She was the missing piece. I had her spread out on my granite counter, every goddamn topping of food I could want scattered around her, and I was going to use it to my advantage.
I took the whipped cream and spread it onto her pussy. She gasped at the sensation, cool sugar coating my favorite fucking dessert. Clara’s pussy was going to taste good tonight. I took a petal from one of the cupcakes and dragged it over her stomach before I licked my way down to it and let it melt in my mouth. When I moaned over her skin, she trembled.
Then, I took my time sucking the whip cream from her clit, savoring the flavor of how she wanted me with the sweetness of the dessert.
“Sweetest dessert I’ll ever have, Clara. I don’t want to eat anything of yours but this pussy.”
I tasted her long after I’d licked her clean. I felt her body clench as she moaned and screamed my name more than once. And even when she thought we were done, when her body tried to relax, I took more from her. “Not done, baby. Far from done. Ride my face, pretty girl.” She whimpered she didn’t know if she could anymore. I smacked the side of her ass. “Oh, you’re going to. Right here, right now.” I pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. “Ride it hard and rough just howyouwant.”
I winked at her, and her eyes narrowed, but her jaw set as she lowered her pussy onto my mouth. I yanked her even closer as I sucked that clit hard. I was telling her just what she wanted and, God, her body agreed with me.
The next orgasm had her convulsing around me, her back arching as she begged over and over for something she didn’t even know she wanted. When she tried to pull me off, I smacked the side of her ass again. “Have I not taught you? I know what you want better than you know yourself.”
By that point, though, I was drawn to the reddening of her side. I flipped her over and murmured, “How many times should I redden this ass to prove a point and make you see, baby?”
She wiggled against the cool countertop, but she didn’t move. If anything, her ass arched out further. “Make me see what?”
“Make you see that you’re an artist.” I smacked her once and she gasped. “That you need to own what you do.” I smacked that cheek again. “That I believe in it. And that spending any of my money for your vision is not only condoned but necessary. Want to know why?”
She whimpered, “Why?” as I smoothed my hand over her.
“Because you’re mine, and I only claim perfection. Beautiful imperfect perfection.”
I let my hand drift between her thighs and found her arousal dripping down the sides of both of them. “God damn you’re wet, baby. You like when your boss punishes you, don’t you?”
Without a second thought, she breathed outyesover and over.
My finger slid into her without much resistance at all. “Look how you take me. Your pussy loves it. You think it would redden if I smacked it, too, baby? Pink to red, just like your bakery?”
I’d never see it the same now. Not as I delivered two small slaps to her sex and watched it darken as it glistened with her slickness.
She was crying, begging, moaning for me to fuck her. Instead, I thrust another finger in her and commanded, “Come, pretty girl. Show me you liked your punishment.” She screamed my name and my cock strained against my trousers. “Fuck, cupcake. You scream for your fake boyfriend like you want him to be real. Such a damn good girl.”
