Bad Boy Dom (9 page)

Wednesday morning, I woke up to a tray of goodies on my bed. There were croissants, fried eggs, bacon, sausage, butter, jam, dry toast, and a cereal bar. There was also a glass of orange juice, which I grabbed and chugged right away, spitting it out a second later when I realized the glass also had champagne.

“Enjoying yourself?” Dom appeared in the doorway, smirking and leaning against the doorframe. “I thought it would be a nice gesture.”

I rolled my eyes, blushing and wiping orange pulp off my chin.
Smooth, Michelle
, I thought to myself. “It is a nice gesture,” I replied, taking a big bite of toast and eggs. “But the gesture is somewhat spoiled if you call attention to it.”

“Michelle, Michelle, Michelle,” Dom teased, walking into the room and sitting down at the end of the bed. As always when he was around, I felt desire coil into a hot spring in my belly. He smelled good; I saw that his hair was damp and figured that he must have just gotten out of the shower. The night before, I’d fallen asleep and hadn’t heard a peep out of Dom all day.

I furrowed my brow. “Hey, what were you up to last night?” I asked, biting my lip. Suddenly, I had a horrifying thought of Dom going to the bars, picking up girls, coming home with all of them.

He must have seen it on my face because moments later, I felt soft fingers stroking under my chin. “I was painting,” Dom said with a coy smile on his face. “And I lost track of time. Honestly, I was up for most of the night.”

“Wow,” I said, impressed. “Oh god, what if Dad and Sandy see?”

“Don’t worry,” Dom smirked. “I’ve already taken care of that. It’s in my walk-in closet. Mom wouldn’t go in there since, well…” Dom blushed and faltered, and I swallowed my last bite of toast. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Can’t we talk about anything without your past coming up?” I asked, irritably. The tray was still in front of me, looking cute as ever with the extensive spread, and I pushed it away with malice. Every single fucking nice thing Dom did was only met by like, four awful things that made me want to kill him.

“I’m sorry,” Dom said, wiping a smirk off his face. “I really am, but you know that was my fucked up life for a long time.”

“I know,” I said in exasperation, swinging my legs out of bed and pulling on a pair of loose sweatpants.

“Well, then stop making me pay for it,” Dom replied, lacing his hands and putting them behind his neck. “You don’t need to punish me anymore, but the past can’t change, Michelle.”

“I’ll stop punishing you when I feel like it,” I sneered, turning away, my mood instantly ruined. “I hated you for years, you can’t just expect that to disappear now that we’re all made up.”

“Okay,” Dom said quietly, holding up his hands in defeat and backing out of my room. I stewed in silence, grabbing a piece of bacon from the tray and stuffing it in my mouth. I knew that he was right, but I couldn’t let it go that easily. I was still hurting from everything that had happened. It was frustrating; I wanted to forgive him. I wanted to move on, I wanted to forget what had happened. But it was like my pride just couldn’t let it go. With a sigh, I finished the rest of the mimosa and went to go find Domenic.

He was sitting in his bedroom, behind an easel. The back of the easel was facing the door so I couldn’t see what he was painting. He must have heard me come in, but didn’t look up for a minute or two. I coughed to get his attention, waiting, but nothing.

“Michelle,” Domenic said in a heavy voice. “I don’t get you. You scream at me for shit I can’t change now, and then you come find me and you’re pissed when I don’t notice you fast enough. Chill the fuck out, okay?”

I was seething inside, even though I knew he was right. I took a deep breath and swallowed, closing my eyes. “I’m sorry, okay? I know that I need to forgive you, but it’s really hard for me. I’m so upset about what happened, and it’s hard to think of me getting past that. And I appreciate the breakfast a lot, thank you.”

“Come here,” Dom said in a softer voice. He stood up and stretched, and I watched the muscles in his arms bunch up. I walked over to where he stood, feeling my leaden legs move on their own accord. Dom put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me behind the easel, showing me what he’d done so far.

I gasped when I saw the painting. Before we’d…. reconciled, he’d gone digging through the attic and found an old photo of me from high school. I liked it, but it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that Dom was known for doing. It was embarrassing to think of Dad and Sandy knowing about his plan, so I’d begged him not to say anything. Dom had even had the clueless idea of giving them my portrait for a wedding present!

“Dom,” I hissed, feeling his fingers pull me closer. Against my will, I began to relax. His touch always felt
so
good. “Dom,” I started again, but he cut me off.

“What?” His voice sounded teasing, but I couldn’t relax, even as his fingers were playing over my bare neck and shoulders. On the canvas was a sketch of me, in a very suggestive pose. Dom had drawn me lying down, propping myself up on my elbows and looking directly at the viewer. My back was arched, my hips were raised, and my body looked much more curvaceous than it did in real life. He’d made my hair look tousled and wavy, and I could see a hint of heavy eyeliner in the preliminary sketch.

“I can’t believe that’s how I look,” I muttered, looking away. “You are not giving that away, not to Dad and Sandy, not to anyone!”

“Duh, of course not,” he replied, pulling me closer. I felt hot, wet lips begin to kiss and nibble my earlobe. “Obviously, I’m not going to show anyone. It’s just for us. This is what I see when I think of you.”

“What, my head on Cindy Crawford’s body?” I tried, feeling cross but unable to ignore how aroused my body was feeling. Dom laughed.

“Michelle, honey, it’s not the 80s anymore. Try Kate Upton,” he advised, nuzzling my neck. A warm feeling spread through my belly and I felt weirdly jittery and hot. Between my legs was still sore from our adventure the other day, but being around Dom was making me want to jump his bones right then and there. His fingers lightly played on the back of my neck, twisting my hair into a knot and pulling my head back. I could feel him breathing down the back of my shirt and I squirmed, feeling ticklish.

“You really can’t let anyone see that,” I gasped as Dom leaned down and bit me gently on the neck.

“Well, you might have to do something for me first,” he teased, kissing and nipping at my bare shoulders. When he bit down on a nerve, I shrieked and wriggled. Pleasure flooded my body at his touch, and I desperately wanted more.

“What’s that?” I gasped, grinding my ass against him. Dom moaned in response, and I could feel a stiff erection poking my butt.

“Come to bed with me,” he whispered, scooping me up and walking the few feet to his bed. My eyes immediately went to the open door, and for once it didn’t even bother me. I knew that we were alone, but it still felt wanton and reckless to make love with the door open.

I didn’t say anything as Dom crossed his arms over his chest and pulled his shirt up and over his head, exposing his beautiful, golden chest. He was so gorgeous; I still couldn’t believe that someone like him could be attracted to someone like me.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Dom asked, slipping out of his sweatpants. He was clad only in a pair of black briefs, and I could see his massive cock straining the front of them. I felt a stirring in my belly as I remembered how it felt to be taken over and over again with his delicious manhood.

“You’re gorgeous,” I said, feeling myself blush. Dom grabbed the ankles of my sweatpants and tugged them down, leaving me clad in a thin t-shirt and sheer panties.

“No, you are,” he replied, making a show of letting his eyes wander up and down my body. “I love the way you look. In fact,” he paused, tapping a finger on his chin and pretending to look thoughtful. “I want to do something,” he said. “But you have to promise me that you’re not going to flip out.”

My belly tightened in anticipation and anxiety. I frowned at him. “What’s that?” I asked, feeling goose bumps break out on my legs. Dom laughed, showing off his perfectly sculpted abs.

“I can’t tell you,” he teased. “But I think you’ll like it. Stay here.” The last words of his sentence were spoken like a command, and his voice got harsh and deep. I felt myself shiver, unable to imagine what he was going to do to me. Deep down, I knew he could have come back with practically anything and I’d be game for it. I needed him, plain and simple.

Domenic had been gone for over ten minutes when I was starting to get really anxious. I hadn’t moved off the bed, but without him there to stimulate me, I felt cold and shivery. Finally, I tensed when I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. The door opened and I looked at him. He was carrying the breakfast tray from before, with a few ceramic dishes on it. They were the kinds of dishes that Dad would use when he was cooking, to lay out ingredients or to make an aioli to go with fries. I furrowed my brow; everything looked really innocuous. And it smelled
amazing
.

“I’m not hungry,” I bit my lip, staring at Dom carrying the tray. He grinned.

“I am,” he said, setting the tray down past the bed so I couldn’t see it. You’ll just have to wait while I eat.

“That’s not fair,” I pouted. “You can’t make me wait two days in a row!”

“Oh, I won’t,” he replied, looking around the room for something. Quickly, he went into his closet and came out with an armful of fabric. My confusion grew as he dumped the pile on the floor and began to sort through.

“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling my voice quaver. Dom grinned and came over to me with some ties in his hands. He raised his eyebrows and grabbed one of my wrists, pulling it up and over my head. He tied it to the headboard, making my hand basically ineffectual. Then, he took my other wrist and stretched my arm out, repeating the action with a new tie. The knots were just below my wrists so I couldn’t untie them with my hands, and even though they were loose, my arms ached a bit at being held over my head.

“I don’t think I can reach your legs,” Dom mused, staring at me. I saw that he was panting and that his bottom lip was swollen, and the plain lust written on his face made me shiver. I could move my legs around, but my top half was basically immobile, and since I was half-sitting, half-lying down, there was no way I could have gotten off the bed. My feet didn’t reach the sides; my legs were splayed out like a doll’s.

Curiously, Dom had left me clad in the shirt and panties, although I still felt really exposed. I tried closing my legs and Dom reached a hand in and slapped the inside of my thigh, hard. I yelped and pulled away, slamming against the headboard and pulling in vain at the bonds around my wrists. Dom chuckled, rubbing himself under the chin.

“Michelle,” he said in a deep voice, staring down at me. His cock was straining the front of his briefs, and I longed to touch it, to take it in my mouth and torment Dom the way he was tormenting me. “You’re going to keep your legs spread apart, do you understand? If you fail to obey me, you’ll be spanked.”

I flushed, feeling incredibly turned on at how bossy he was being. I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered, looking down.
 

“I’m not going to be a stickler about being called ‘Sir,’” Dom said, eyeing me harshly. “But if you don’t keep your legs spread apart, you will regret it.”

I strained against the ties holding me, arching my back and trying to spread my legs even further. Already, my shoulders ached from having my arms pinned over my head. My hips were sore from being molded into a spread position, and I could feel my toes quivering from the effort.

Dom set the breakfast tray on the end of the bed and I strained to see what was in the cups. He walked over to his easel and grabbed a paintbrush, making a concentrated face at me and dipping it in one of the cups on the tray. I swallowed a hard lump in my throat, still unsure of what he was going to do. Dom crawled towards me on the bed, kneeling between my spread legs. I could feel the heat from his body on my skin and I shivered, wanting him as close as possible.

Keeping one eye on my face, Dom reached a hand forward and stroked the paintbrush over my nipples, through my shirt. I instantly felt the fabric soak through with something warm and wet, and realized that he was painting melted butter on me. It felt good and my nipples immediately stiffened. Dom leaned closer and began to suck on my nipple through the wet fabric. His tongue through the rough, wet cotton felt amazing and I moaned, feeling a gush dampen the crotch of my panties. My nipples were so hard that they were sore, and I couldn’t do anything about it as Dom gently licked and bit me through the cotton. Maddeningly, he applied more butter from the brush to my other breast and did the same thing, taking slow laps at my nipples. It felt so amazingly raunchy, and I could feel myself straining against the bonds at my wrists. Frustratingly, I found that I couldn’t move at all, and arching my back only forced more of my breasts into Dom’s mouth. He took the paintbrush and dipped it once more in the butter, tracing a warm, wet line down my neck and immediately following it with his tongue. The sensation made me shiver and thrash against the headboard, and I felt him chuckling to himself as he lavished me with his tongue.