Undeniable: Dom & Gigi (Beg For It 5)

I turned out her light, headed back into my room and closed the door all but an inch. I’d done the best I could do. I’d done all I could do. I’d let her know I was a broken man, a depraved beast. I’d let her know how I would use her and that once I started I couldn’t stop. Now it was up to her to stay the fuck away.

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A 10,000 square foot house had never felt so small. After my morning workout, I started to head for the kitchen for some fuel. She was in there, humming and fixing something that smelled good, maybe an omelet. I turned around and headed in the other direction.

Down in the exercise room, I paced the floor. A man could only workout so much. I’d been pushing the limits with two daily sessions of cardio and weights plus laps in the pool. Any more than that risked injury. But I couldn’t leave the house and after five hours of exercise there were still 19 more hours left in the day to fill with something other than fucking Gigi. I was running out of ideas.

I heard her coming down the stairs and I beat her to it, heading out the other door like I was avoiding her. Because I was avoiding her. And even after everything I’d said to her last night, it felt like she wasn’t avoiding me. I’d figured she’d be disgusted and furious, maybe tell me I was a pig and needed to keep my hands to myself. But she wasn’t hiding herself away. It was almost as if she were seeking me out.

I watched TV, swam some laps and took a shower upstairs, painfully hard. It would make sense to jack-off. But even that felt dangerous. Coming in my hand would feel good, but it would add powerful fuel to the fire, making me vividly picture how good it would feel to come on her, in her, over and over again.

After drying off, I pulled on a T-shirt and shorts and figured I’d try the kitchen again. But then I got a glimpse, down at the pool. Our bedrooms faced the back of the house and I had a good view. She was lying out in a lounge chair in the late afternoon sunshine, only this time she wasn’t wearing the robe.

Downstairs in seconds, I stopped at the sliding glass door leading out to the patio. Standing at it, panting like an animal in heat, I watched her. She wore a string bikini, even skimpier than the kind she wore that summer we were together. It barely covered her breasts, teasing more than providing any modesty, two small triangles with such generous mounds exposed around them. The strip below was so small I knew she had to be bare.

Then she started rubbing herself with lotion. It wasn’t the 50 SPF zinc type we needed out in the desert. This looked more like oil, the kind I’d use to massage or lube her up so she’d be nice and ready. She went slowly, rubbing herself in lazy circles, wriggling in her chair as she moved up her thighs. What. The. Fuck.

I burst out like I had flames licking at my heels. Standing over her, I cast a long shadow over her oiled body. “Fuck are you doing?” She didn’t know it, but there were at least five guys surrounding our property, armed and guarding us. They had good vantage points, and they sure as hell would watch any show she put on.

“Dom…” She wasn’t wearing sunglasses so I could see the nervousness in her eyes, the hesitation as she looked down. But then her hands started moving again, sliding along her thighs, working the oil into her skin. “Dom, I—”

“I warned you,” I growled, my hands fisted at my sides, nostrils flared.

“I…” She looked up at me and I could see her nipples pressing against the thin fabric. She was aroused, lying there below me, rubbing herself. “I don’t want you to stay away from me.”

Fiercely, I lunged at her, grabbing her and hauling her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She squealed in surprise as I took her inside, away from any watchful eyes. I dropped her onto the couch, placing my hands on either side, caging her with my body. I claimed her mouth, kissing her, marking her, plunging my tongue into her recesses, letting her know. Now, she was mine. She shivered and sighed, kissing me back, moaning in the back of her throat, her tongue twining and caressing, her lips soft and yielding and asking for more.

Grabbing her around the waist, I sat down on the couch and positioned her down and across my waist. Ass up in the air over my lap, she struggled with surprise. I caressed her bare cheeks, the bikini nothing more than a string between them.

“You should have stayed away.” I spoke to her in a low voice. She was slick with oil and I palmed her ass cheek, massaging it, working it. “I warned you.” I untied one side, then the other of her ridiculous bikini bottom, then did the same with her top. She trembled as I pulled her closer to me, rough.

“But you didn’t stay away, did you?” Grabbing her hip with my hand, I dug my fingers into the soft flesh of her rear, holding her still and completely exposed. “You were a bad girl, down by the pool in your bikini, rubbing oil on yourself so I could see.” She moaned as I traced the curve of her buttocks, lightly caressed her inner thighs. I had her back arched and her ass so high up I could see the start of her pussy, and the revealing gleam of arousal. “You wanted me to see you, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she sighed, pushing her ass into my hand. She wanted this. She wanted everything I’d told her I’d do to her. Heat seared through me and I raised my hand, landing it down hard onto her soft, pale rear. Her squeal and the pink blush that arose on her cheek drove me further. I spread her ass cheeks and gave her a long lick, all the way down from her pussy up the seam to her hole. She gripped the couch cushion with her fingers.

I gave her asshole a swirl with my tongue. “Dom?” she asked, nervous and tense. I reared back and gave her ass a firm smack, then another.

“You’re mine now, princess.” Whack, my hand came down on her again, making her nice and pink. “You asked for this and now you’re going to take the consequences.”

“But—” she started to protest. I dove into her again, eating her pussy, holding her ass up, parting her cheeks and thighs with my hands. She was so easy to bend and move, so small in my hands. I could do anything I wanted with her, and right now I wanted to make her come. I licked and sucked, pulsing against her swollen clit. She was close, I could tell, slick and panting, so I stopped. I wanted her to come from her spanking, to give that to me, show me she knew who owned her now.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” I asked, caressing her ass, positioning her back down over my lap. She whimpered and squirmed, panting for breath. “You’re so close you’re going to come when I spank you.”

My palm landed down hard and firm, my thumb hitting her clit. Her thighs clenched and she grunted as I spanked her again, giving her clit a nice swipe. “Aren’t you? Show me you know I’m in charge now, Gigi,” I commanded. “Show me you want it that way.”

I spanked her again, my hand coming down relentless, hard on her soft cheeks and she came apart, sobbing and climaxing and coming for me just how I wanted.

“Dom, yes, I, oh…” She cried out and came, shuddering and giving herself to me. I watched her, naked, writhing on me, my gaze dark and hooded. Yes. This was what I wanted. I’d had dark needs deep within me for a long, long time. I’d tamped them down, but now it was time to let them out.

“Go upstairs and wait for me in your bedroom,” I ordered her, not giving her time to fully recover. She was not going to get it. I would push her limits, test them then make her crave more. “Do not put on clothes.”

She rose, shaking, her ass pink, her hair messy. I’d have that long, gorgeous hair in knots before long. Then I’d bathe her and soothe her and get her clean and relaxed and rosy, so I’d get her nasty all over again. There was no turning back now.

15

Gigi

What had I done? I scampered upstairs, fear and nerves and anticipation and arousal all swirling in a heady cocktail through my body and brain. He’d warned me. He’d warned me in such explicit terms, leaving nothing to my imagination.

But that was the problem. I’d been fantasizing for years about him doing exactly the kinds of things he threatened to do to me. Everyone else around me saw a good girl, the one in the cashme

re sweater set and pearls who planned parties and met deadlines. But they didn’t know what I thought about at night, by myself. When I couldn’t resist, I’d slip my fingers down and imagine Dom tying me down. I’d even fantasized about him forcing me to suck his cock. He’d push me down on my knees, make me take him in all the way. I didn’t know if something was wrong with me for wanting it. All I heard from other girls was how gross it was, and I’d never even tried it with another man. But with Dom? Picturing doing that for him, especially if he got rough with me? I’d come to that image more times than I could count.

And now I’d waved the red flag in front of the bull. I’d watched the tension mounting in Dom over the past couple of days. I’d seen the bulge in his shorts, the one he’d turn away from me to hide. I’d noticed how he was drawn to look at my ass, my nipples especially when they’d tighten with arousal under his gaze. We’d been dancing around each other, making every hour seem longer than the last.

Last night was the naughtiest I’d ever been. I’d spent the last four years shutting men down like it was my job. I’d never even gotten naked with one, let alone show him my drenched pussy. But it was like I was a woman possessed, as if a switch had been flipped in me and now I couldn’t turn it off. Maybe that was the problem, I’d been so repressed for so long so now. I had such pent-up sexual energy and now that we were trapped together, nowhere to escape, nowhere to hide, it had pushed me over the edge. I’d not only touched myself, knowing he was in the next room, I’d let myself call out his name as I came on my fingers. I’d moaned it, low and pleading. He’d responded, exactly like I’d fantasized about so many nights. Rough, dominating, promising to force me to do such filthy things and love them.