Daphne
Despite everything I’m going through emotionally, I want Dominic to touch me. That’s the problem isn’t it? I want him to touch me, but I want more than the touches he offers in private. I express this conflict and this need in returning every kiss that he offers, slowly giving something back to him when he takes away my resolve, melting it away with his lips on mine. I do want him now, but I’m afraid he’s never going to want me to be his in front of the other people that matter to me. Touching him now, letting his fingers roam up and down my body and pull me close, his wicked grin and charming words enticing me ... it's better than thinking about how much I want Dominic and not having him.
I place my hand around Dominic’s arm, feeling the firm muscle there. He smells good—some expensive cologne that probably costs more than my rent. I move my hand down to his wrist and start kissing his palm, licking it slowly and tenderly, like a sex kitten warming up to her owner.
I want you, I try to say by sweeping my tongue across the palm of his hand and collecting the taste of his skin. He watches me, and those fuck-me-in-the-bedroom-now eyes of his makes me dizzy with need.
Dominic runs his hand down my face, feeling me gently, erasing all my objections. Our lips dance together as we feed each other more deep kisses.
“You want me?” Dominic asks. He’s toying with me now, showing me how no matter how mad I am, with no resolution, he can have me pining for him while he paws me.
That raspy voice of his is doing its magic seducing me, making my eardrum tickle a bit when I think about the feel of that voice when his mouth is closer to my skin.
“No.” I’m pretending not to want him, but not well enough for either of us to believe it. That’s not the point though—it’s play. Of course I want him. My body has never been more alive than when Dominic is inside of me. The way that he makes me cum is mind blowing, and it seems to be capable of blowing all my objections out of my mind and replacing it with a blazing hot, searing need. This ma
n who was once my stepfather. I tumble into my feelings for him, knowing they’re wrong, but they’re there. So what can I do?
Well, we both know what I want to do. I want what Dominic wants. I want him to fuck me.
Dominic gives me this arrogant smile back. He knows that I want him. He knew that I would want him now, even though I was mad enough to storm out of dinner.
“You’re mad, still, though?,” he asks. Dominic knows that he can get me to say that I want him when I’m mad, and now he’s really playing with me. “You know, we don’t have to make up to have make up sex.” Sex is a word that rolls off his gorgeous lips like it was made for him to say. Dominic is pure, tantalizing sex right now.
Even though his words horribly frustrate me, I already want to pour them into some angry, frustrated tangling of us together until I cum so hard I might forget for a few hours that I was ever mad. I can remember later.
I give Dominic a look that’s full of all the heat and the torment within me right now. My desire is playing out over my face, I feel the burn on my skin even as my eyes narrow.
Dominic studies my eyes, his own drinking me in and promising me that, yes, he knows how badly I want him. That he wants me too.
When he looks at me like that, shivers run up my spine.
Dominic runs his hand along my cheek. He wraps his arms around me and we kiss passionately this time like we did the time we first slept together. With the kind of raw need that makes every touch as urgent as the last, our mouths smash together and our breath gets lost in each other.
Dominic lifts me so I’m sitting on the table. His scent washes over me as his hand surfs up under my shirt to unhook my bra. When he frees my breasts from their cups, my whole body reacts to the fact that he’s touching my bared skin again, finally. Every second without Dominic’s hands on me is a second I lose my mind.
He places a hand on the back of my knee so I sweep forward and my thighs are on either side of him. I can feel Dominic’s thick, erect cock caged in his trousers. His tongue rolls around mine and I can tell from the way he touches me that he actually cares about me and not just my body. It makes it hurt all that much more that he doesn’t want to openly date me around my friends. When my own mother, his ex-wife, can accept us, why can’t Dominic hang out with me and my friends?
The anger I get from this thought spurs me on. I yank his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his trousers. I run my hands over Dominic, feeling his skin. He’s smooth, firm, and warm to the touch. My breathing gets shallow just feeling him under my palms.
“I want you,” I sigh, my head tossing back so he can shower my neck with kisses. I feel his stubble against my skin and I moan. I tug on the back of his nice shirt as he rubs his cock against my pussy. We’re still way too dressed, but that won’t last long.
Dominic reaches back where my hands are gripping his nice shirt and wrinkling it up, and pries the shirt out of my hands, wraps his stern fingers around my wrists and holds them down to the counter and grinds against me.
“Oh…” I begin with the “ohs” and “ahs” already, even though there’s been no penetration yet.
Slow down. Don’t be so verbal yet; make him work for those sounds, I tell myself, but it’s hard.
Literally, it’s HARD.
I continue rubbing against him. I try and move my hands to release him from his pants to no avail. He keeps my hands where they are.
“You want Daddy’s cock up that sweet, tight pussy?”
“No,” I quip. There is a sly smirk on my face and I can tell he wants to wipe it off. I love this little interplay. It does make every drop of frustration just add to the endless ocean of lust rising between us.
Dominic unsnaps my shorts and I start to move my hand.
“You keep your hands on that counter, understand?” he commands.