He rushes over to open my door. “Not until after our first date.”
“Sure,” I say, sarcasm lacing my tone as I enter the car.
Ashton refused to tell me where we’re going on our date, but when we don’t get on the highway, I assume it’s here in Emberfield and not in another town.
By the time we pull up to Olleto’s, my heart is in my throat. On the one hand, I know this restaurant is special to him, but he has taken all his other dates here. I know I’m more than just another date to him, so why would he take me here? Then there’s the fact that Ashton thinks there’s some sort of love voodoo within these walls. What if I don’t live up to the magic he’s expecting?
Sensing my hesitation, Ashton takes my hand. “I thought it made sense to take you here since I’ve taken all my other first dates here.”
My brows knit in confusion.
“You’re the last one,” he says, bringing my hand to his heart. “My last first date.”
The uncertainty in my belly melts into a thousand tiny butterflies that dance and sway inside me.
I bring my free hand behind his neck, pulling him close so I can press my lips to his, and the butterflies go wild.
“How do you want me?”he rasps, running his hands up the inside of my tank top. “Submissive? Bratty? A dominating alphahole?”
I roll my eyes. I never should have taught him that word. But, also, yes. That one. That’s what I want.
I don’t even have to say anything. Ashton can see it written all over my face. He spins me around, gently grasping my chin and turning my head to look straight ahead. “Get on the fucking bed, Allie.”
His words send an electric current straight to my throbbing pussy. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve had him, and I can’t wait another second. I know this isn’t how first-date sex is supposed to go, but I don’t give a fuck. We can say we want to start fresh and take it slow all we want, but the truth is we know each other. We know our bodies, what turns us on, what makes us tick. Ashton can read my sexual energy like a damn book, so why waste any more time?
Lost in my own thoughts, it takes me a second to respond. Ashton lets go of my chin and slaps my ass. “Did that sound like a request?”
Holy, shit.
I love playing these games with him. I walk over to his bed and bend in half, pressing my cheek to the mattress so my shorts ride up and my ass hangs out. He chuckles, deep and condescending.
Leaning over me so I can feel his hot breath against my ear, he rasps, “Did I say to bend over or did I say to get on the fucking bed?” Then, without warning, he flips me over, pops open the button of my jeans with his thumb, and yanks them down along with my underwear. Never in my wildest dreams did I think the simping little puppy of a man I met at the bar that night would have such a dominant side, but I love it. I love that he can play both roles. I love that he can be exactly what I need and that I can do the same for him.
I had a feeling this was the mood he would be in. All throughout dinner, he teased me. It started off romantic and a little emotional, especially after his admission in the car. Then the air shifted and crackled, and before I knew it, I was shoving food in my face so we could get through dinner and go back to his house. It made me laugh to think that Theo ordered dessert to prolong his date, while I was doing everything in my power to cut ours short.
It didn’t help that Ashton put his foot up on my chair at one point and pressed between my legs with the toe of his boot. I might have shamelessly started grinding on it until he briskly pulled it back when the waiter came with our food.
And don’t get me started on the ride home. I nearly attacked him and would have, but we swerved and decided it was best that we both remain alive. Needless to say, I’m now desperate, willing to do whatever he says to get what I want.
Ashton tosses my shorts and panties aside and shoves my tank top up over my head. I’m not wearing a bra because it doesn’t work with the tank top, so I’m now completely naked while Ash is fully clothed. Bringing his palms to my thighs, he spreads my legs, positioning himself in between them. Then he reaches down and pushes a finger into me, smirking when he feels how wet I am.
“Desperate little slut,” he chides. “Always ready for me, huh?”
“I’ve been ready since the fucking restaurant,” I rasp. “Just fuck me already.”
He removes his finger, and my whole body sags in frustration.
“You know that was the wrong thing to say, right?”
I pin him with a glare.
“If you act like a brat, I have to treat you like one,” he goes on, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “We all know brats don’t get to come.”
I let out a noise somewhere between a growl and a screech, but he ignores it as he continues his task, undoing the last button and tossing his shirt to the side. My eyes run hungrily over his flexing abs until they get to the V that disappears into his jeans. I lick my lips as he flicks the button open. He snickers. “So needy, baby. What am I going to do with you?”
God, I love that condescending tone. Outside of this room, I would dropkick any man who spoke to me like that, including Ashton, but here? In private? It makes my goddamn pussy weep for him. I reach out to touch myself if only to soothe the ache for a moment while he finishes his little withholding act, but he pins me with a glare and my hand freezes in place. While we’ve played around with some light bondage before, it’s always me tying him up or gagging him. He prefers to control me with looks and words alone.
I start to remove my glasses so they don’t break, but he stops me.
