Make him a single dad al.., p.19
Make Him: A Single Dad/Alpha Dom Romance, page 19
Once Louis sets a crystal tumbler in front of her, I’m in her ear again. “Sip your drink and enjoy the taste I love on your tongue. Feel your nipples, too. I can see them. They’re getting hard while my stud toys with you, and I control you.”
Silently, she obeys, rubbing her pussy in public for minutes. I love this about Scarlett—how she doesn’t back down.
“Spread your thighs wider,” I whisper. “Grind harder.” She sips her drink, obeying. “That’s it. Such a sweet slut, you like this, don’t you? Rubbing your hard clit for me in public?” Her soft moan is the only music I hear. “My spa staff waxed your pussy for me today, didn’t they?”
“Yes, sir,” she stammers.
“Did you show them what belongs to me?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl. You’re nice and bare for me, so I can watch everything I’ll do to you.” Her flesh is raised at my voice. “You’re wearing my plug in your ass, too?”
“Yes, Master.” She arches her back, the mention of her ass making her hips circle harder, faster. It’s getting obvious.
“You like me in your ass, don’t you, Scarlett?”
“Luca,” she affirms.
“I had the plug made just for you. What does it say?”
Ordering the custom slave plugs for Scarlett thrilled me. I ordered several, in increasing diameters, and sent the smallest one to her suite tonight as part of her attire. I ordered the words, stamped in white on the red plugs, for her, too, because I’ll be toying with her forever.
“It says ‘My Whore. My Belle,’” she answers.
“Because you are, aren’t you, Scarlett?”
“Luca,” she rasps, so I press my lips to her ear, taking her right to the edge.
“I have so many plans for you tonight. There are guests in this bar watching us. We’ve invited some to help me make you my whore. My stud has arranged it.” I glance at Zar. He licks his lips because he hears me. “Now, grab your breast and pinch your hard nipple. Show them. That’s your signal to them that you consent to my torture, my belle. Pinch it right here, over your lace if you do.”
She obeys, bracing one hand against the thick, wooden edge of the bar. Trying to be discreet, she pinches her nipple, covered by couture fashion, while surrounded by dozens of people, a few of whom will be joining us later.
“That’s my whore. Don’t stop,” I praise while she moans. “Is your pussy excited? Are you being a naughty girl and smearing your cum all over my stool for everyone to watch?”
“Yes, Master,” she moans, and I glance down. Her thighs are shaking.
The sight of her pleasure is branded on my soul, so I grab her arm and pull her off the stool, gently reminding her, “You come when I tell you to.”
“Yes, Master,” she gasps, trembling in my grasp, but her stare meets mine, and she looks thrilled.
“Bad girl, look at the mess you’ve made.” I make her turn and glance back at her stool. Her dress has fallen, covering her, but she can’t hide the milky smears she’s left on the dark blue velvet.
Zar swipes his finger through it before he grins, sucking it off his fingertip.
“Come with me.” I press my hand over the small of her back, guiding her flushed body in front of all watching us, controlling our steps through the bar and into my white marble lobby.
I want to hold Scarlett’s hand. I want to pull her to me and kiss her, proving to all that she belongs to me. I meant it; I’ve never had a woman like her. A woman I’ve craved for so long, but I’m on a mission. I have plans.
We reach the elevator, and I won’t take my hand off of her, pressing against the satin over the top swell of her ass.
“Good evening,” I greet Jameson, who studies us with an intensity I relish.
“Good evening, Ms. Jones, Mr. Mercier,” he answers gruffly, his eyes scanning my smirk to Scarlett chewing her bottom lip.
“My third floor,” I demand, letting him pass through the golden elevator doors, sliding open. “Ms. Jones and I have a long, arduous, private meeting tonight.”
Per the protocol, Jameson enters the lift, pressing the guest’s floor before he exits again, staying at his station in the lobby. He steps out after Scarlett and I step in. I turn her around. I do, too, knowing we have three seconds before the doors start to close. Jameson could look away, but he doesn’t.
I knew he would watch as I lean down, glaring at him while I bite Scarlett’s neck, making her gasp. “Mine,” I growl over her flesh as the doors close, and his eyes narrow, glaring.
But once the doors close, I back off. Jealousy makes me lose control, and that’s what I require tonight. Control.
“Careful,” Scarlett huffs, aroused by my possession but worried. “He’s a good man. He won’t rat me out unless he’s worried about me.”
“No need to worry.” I linger my fingertips over the colorful crosses, flames, flowers, and skulls down her arm. “I’m a bad man, and I carefully torture what I own.”
The doors ding open, and I grab what’s mine. I reach for Scarlett’s hand. It’s instinct at first, and then it’s everything.
There’s only one other woman whose hand I’ve held. In tender moments, yes. This feels like that, too. But I’ve never held my woman’s hand, taking her to a destination like this. I’ve never been myself like this, with my partner, with my match beside me. And Scarlett’s silent, letting me lead her while she glances down at my grasp wrapped around hers, like she knows it, too.
I press the code to enter the suite, then tap a switch on the wall. A dim glow lights up the room. Erotic music starts to lull. The temperature is programmed. The suite is warm and ready as the door closes behind us.
“Where’s Zar?” she asks while I lead her across the room.
“He’ll be up later with our guests. He knows his orders.”
“What are we doing now?”
She sounds so curious, so I turn and press my finger to her lips. “You don’t speak in here. You only use our words. Understood?”
Confidently, she grins. “Luca.”
I can’t help it. I grin back while I guide her to my first major purchase from Delta’s. It stands beside Zar’s St. Andrew’s cross—the giant X padded in black leather with wrist and ankle restraints on the wall. It’s where Zar likes to be whipped.
And now…he’s not alone.
Standing beside it is a Forced Orgasm Tower. It’s a black metallic structure. It’s a tall, thick, vertical bar where a sub stands, restrained against it, with padded neck and wrist straps. At its wide rectangular base are ankle straps, holding legs open, straddled over a thin metal bar at the center. The center bar holds any vibrating massager, wand, or dildo, stimulating the sub’s clit, cock, pussy, or ass, forcing them to have orgasms for as long as you command.
Scarlett realizes what I’m about to do with one look at it.
“I won’t blindfold you yet.” I guide her to stand in place. She silently watches while I bind her wrists to the pole behind her first. It thrusts her breasts in the corset out, and I lick my lips. “You’re going to do as you’re trained. You’re going to look at the only one who makes you come when I tell you to. Say it.”
“Luca.” There’s a thrill in her voice, not fear, while I squat and spread her legs, caressing her ankles arched in high heels while I restrain them next.
She can’t move while I’m tempted to graze my touch up her bare thighs, but I don’t. I rise, reaching for the neck restraint last. It widens her eyes, but she doesn’t protest while I carefully secure the leather collar around her throat. She’s trapped. She’s helpless, and she has to trust me now.
And hers is a trust I covet.
I know what this means to Scarlett. To trust a man to take care of her. To never leave her.
And I won’t make the same mistakes again. I’ve told her how cruel I can be. I’ve tried to make it up to her, too. I will never take her for granted. And with her, I don’t have to hide who I am, even though I can’t give her everything she wants.
The sight before me is one I’ll worship forever. Gently, I touch her bound neck, feeling her hammering pulse, before I hook my fingertip over the center boning of her corset and yank it down, just like I did to her bustier the first night we met.
“I’ll always watch you, Scarlett.” I gaze at her nipples pebbling before my eyes. “I’m going to watch you come until it drips down your thighs.”
Carefully, I lift the hem of her dress, harnessing all my restraint not to touch her sweet pussy again. I didn’t give her panties to wear, so I leave her dress like that, bunched around her waist while her ribs heave, her flesh prickling for my gaze.
“Oh, my belle.” I adore the lewd sight, stepping back to admire every inch of her. “You look so beautiful. You look like such a whore for my torture, don’t you?”
She pauses, her stare dropping to the heavy erection I proudly display under my black trousers. I’m not wearing boxers, and I’m already dripping for her. She licks her lips. “Luca.”
I let her watch me take my black jacket off before I drape it over my chair, my steps aiming for a glass curio cabinet. Rolling up my starched white sleeves, I leave them cuffed around my forearms while I open the cabinet and reach for another new purchase.
It’s been my ultimate fantasy to use one of these on a woman, but I’ve never done it. The white Hitachi massaging wand is iconic for a reason. It relentlessly satisfies anyone using it, the torturer included.
Covering its soft, large head with a condom, Stacey at Delta’s told me this only adds to the wand’s sensations, I grab a bottle of the lube she recommended, too. This entire cabinet will be filled with new toys. Toys only allowed for Scarlett.
Scarlett doesn’t flinch at what I’m holding when I turn around and stalk back her way. She knows exactly what I’m about to do to her, and her lush lips smile.
“Dirty little girl,” I tease, “you’re going to like this torment, won’t you?”
She doesn’t answer while I strap the massager to the center bar designed to secure it to the tower. The bar is adjustable, and she gasps when I press the soft head of the wand right against her little pink clit, peeking from between her shorn pussy lips.
Damn, I have to hold back. I have to find a new level of control around her.
She watches as I grin, shamelessly pouring a ribbon of lube over the device where it’s poised over her pussy. Then, I set the bottle down before I hover my fingertip over the blue buttons on the charged device. It has four intensity levels, and she’s about to endure them all.
But something powerful grabs my heart.
A warm, new, deep feeling makes me meet her gaze. I don’t know what it is as I search her eyes for an answer.
This isn’t breaking one of my rules, the promise I made to a grave, but it feels like it. It feels like Scarlett is about to become everything to me, and Zar warned me this would happen.
She senses it, too. “Luca,” she speaks, disobeying me, “it’s okay. You’re still keeping your promise, and I want this with you. I want everything with you, however you want.”
I reach, gently grazing my fingertip over her bottom lip. “Don’t hate me, Belle. Don’t hate me for what I’m about to do to you.”
She gets that look in her eyes. She’s bound by her neck, wrists, and ankles. She’s completely vulnerable, but she’s a fighter.
“You think I can’t handle a little torture and a lot of pleasure?” she asks with her scarred eyebrow cocked. “I’m about to love your pain.” Her smirk grows. “Luca.”
So I press the blue button and…
She screams.
The wand hums against her clit at the perfect spot. She’s been too aroused all night, all day, for over a month, maybe for a year, like me. Her right leg violently shakes. She tries to obey, waiting for my command, but can’t. Her shoulders lurch, but her neck’s restrained while that stone look seizes her eyes. Staring at me, her lips part, and she groans, disobeying me in less than a minute while her first orgasm shatters through her.
The sight?
An erotic masterpiece.
“Oh, my belle.” I press the button, turning the wand off. “Bad little girl. You’ll have to be punished now.”
I leave her shaking and bound while I aim for her cabinet again, reaching for the gold chain with two tweezer nipple clamps on each end. But when I return and get so close to her, my fingers about to pinch her pert pink nipple between the coated soft tips, I sweat. I can hear her panting breath and smell her arousal. Memories of filling my mouth with her nipple, sucking and biting while she rode my hard cock arrest my mind.
I want to kiss her mouth. I want to lave my tongue over her nipples. I want to taste her again, but I taunt, “You liked watching Stacey and her men use these, so I ordered one just for you. It’s fourteen-carat gold. It’s my kinky treasure, just like you are.”
It makes my mouth water, pinching her nipples with the clamps and hearing her hiss, watching the soft carve of the muscles down her abs flinch at the luscious torture.
“Use your words,” I insist.
“Luca.” She tries throwing her head back to survive the sensation but can’t. She’s stuck while I press the button on the wand again, and her shriek is a symphony.
“Yes, my belle.” Gently, I tug the gold chain connected to her aching nipples, and I won’t let go of her stare. “Fight it,” I demand. “Fight the pleasure. Fight the urge. Wait for me.”
I press the button again, going one intensity higher on the vibrator, ruthlessly thrilling her clit, and she can’t help it.
“Oh god,” she groans.
“Yes,” I snarl, “I AM your god.”
I yank her chain harder, rattling it, delighting at my tug, at the skin of her breasts pulled taut by my indirect grasp. I want to lick the sweat blooming across her dewy, heaving chest.
“Luca,” she cries. “Luca, please.”
It means she only wants more of me, so I give it to her. I unzip my pants with my free hand and lift it out, revealing my cock, heavy for her stare.
Her eyes drop, then her lids. “Fuck,” she huffs at the sight of my proud arousal for her, so I swipe the next drop for her dripping from my swollen crown.
Holding my fingertip to her trembling lips, she’s dangerously close. I want those lips on mine, but I order, “Taste who you belong to while you feel me in your tight ass, too.”
She does more than taste. She sucks my finger so hard, rolling her eyes. Shuddering with a moan, she comes in front of me, breaking another rule.
“Belle,” I growl, “look at me when you come!”
“I…” She pants. “I…” She lifts her heavy lids and sighs with a satisfied smile. “Punish me, Master.”
Yes.
I am falling in love.
I stride across my room with my exposed erection pointing the way. Grabbing the leather riding crop from her cabinet—we’ll build up to the paddle and the flogger—I can make this sting, too.
When I return to her, I turn off the massager and pull it away from her pussy, relishing how her cum is glistening across her lips. It’s starting to drizzle down her thighs.
“You want to be punished, my belle?” I tickle the crop across her flushed cheek, then through her flaming hair. “You want me to spank you for being my dirty little whore who can’t stop coming for me?”
“Luca,” she growls with demand in her eyes, so I deliver.
I lick the flat red leather tip of the riding crop for her gaze, covering it with my spit before I wedge it between her swollen lips, rubbing back and forth while I train her. “Whose tongue licks your pussy, ma flamme?”
“Yours, Master.” I raise my eyebrow. “You. Luca.”
“Does my tongue feel good? All firm and wet and rubbing on your naughty little clit? Is it making your pussy ache for my hard cock to fuck you?”
She writhes, trying to squat and open her pussy for more, but she can’t. She begs, her voice labored with lust, “Luca.”
My god, I want my name tattooed on her and no one else. I can’t hear enough of the sound of my name screaming from her throat.
Lifting the glossy tip of the crop back to my mouth inches from her face, her eyes are riveted, locked to mine while she watches me lick her cream off, and my dick does it again. It drips in agony at the taste of Scarlett’s forbidden honey on my tongue.
“Your cum is mine,” I tell her. “Every creamy drop or every watery gush from your cunt belongs to me.” Swiftly, I smack the hard tip of the crop against her clit. “Who do you drip for?”
She cries out, “Luca,” and it’s torture for me too. In perfect strokes, I rub her clit with the crop while I tug at her nipple chains, too, and I won’t stop until she’s dying to come. It’s in her eyes, and I’m right here with her, but I have too much discipline.
I start brutally smacking her clit with luscious, quick stinging whacks, and I don’t let up, demanding, “Who’s pussy is this?”
“Luca’s.” Her gaze anchors to mine like I’m the only truth she knows, and yes, I am.
I rattle the crop over her clit and demand, “Be my little whore and come all over my tongue.”
It’s only fantasy, but she obeys. Scarlett moans, jerking at her wrist restraints while she stares at me, her abs constricting with her next orgasm, and mine threatens, too.
I’m in that trance with her. That euphoria you get from pain and pleasure, but I so rarely feel it. I reach this state only when I’m with Zar and only when I truly let go.
But with Scarlett, it’s my new world, and I don’t want to leave.
I drop the crop and push the massager back to her slick pussy. I ask with my finger poised over the button, “Can you take more of me?”
The next clicks will be orgasmic agony for her. Her lips tremble with “Luca,” like she’ll never give up, and Scarlett’s too beautiful like this. Mine and broken and lavished with so much pleasure, she feels my suffering too—the hell of not having all you need to breathe.
She understands me now.
But still, I need more of her.
I press the button four quick times, and she’s stunned and silent. Her bound neck strains, her teeth clenching, her gaze shattering, so I caress her warm cheek. It’s flushed and dewy with sweat, like our first time together.
