“She taught me.”
“When?”
“What does it matter?” I ask, attempting to walk around him, but he steps in front of me, blocking my path. My heart slingshots in my chest, both in fear and arousal.
“It matters because you are not a Ring Girl anymore,” he says.
“I’m not awaitressanymore. You said I could still go to the Cockpit,” I argue.
“To see your friends, not to dance!” he booms, but I just smile.
“I see how it is,” I nod.
“Oh do you? And how is it?”
“You’re jealous,” I answer.
“Jealous?” he seethes.
“Yes. Jealous. Because your friends loved me. I played the part perfectly and impressed everyone in the room. Hell, even you were smiling. I was classy and tasteful and conservative, and doting. And by the end of the night, I had everyone in the room cheering.”
“Because you were parading around in the ring with dollar bills stuck to your tits,” he grits out.
“Because I looked good. Which means you looked good,” I correct him.
“You blurred the lines of who is in charge!” he shouts.
“What do you care as long as at the end of the day, people know I belong to you?” I ask. Casually, I try to shove my way around him, but it doesn’t quite go as planned.
Dom grabs my wrist and yanks me back towards him, hard enough that I crash against his body. He picks me up, walks to the bed, and tosses me onto it.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demand as he crawls on top of me, caging me in with his body.
“Showingyouwho you belong to,” he growls before his mouth collides with mine. At first, I’m pissed, ready to fight him off for being such a raging, chauvinistic asshole. But my body softens against his, wrapping around him.
“You have been a very bad girl, Mila,” he says between kisses.
“Oh, have I?” I ask, running my hand down his chest.
Dom takes it exactly the way I mean it. As a challenge. He jumps up and yanks his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it.Then he drops his slacks to the floor, standing in front of me in nothing but his black boxer briefs. I swear, when it comes to this man, he is notoriously black on black on black.
He straddles me again. When he notices my bra is front hook, he smirks. And with the snap of his fingers, unhooks it, revealing my bare breasts and hard nipples. Ever since our night together in the car, I have been dreaming about this. About being with him again. It was the best sex I’ve ever had. Even if this man is the biggest pain in my ass, I still have an undeniable, aching crush on him. Bad temperament and all.
Dom resumes a push-up position, lowering himself down to me. He kisses me once, biting my bottom lip in the motion, tugging away hard enough to sting. He goes lower, zeroing in on my nipples. His mouth hovers over them, brushing them ever so slightly with his lips, making them ache with the need for more contact.
“Fuck,” I moan, running my hand through my hair. The burning sensation that reaches my thighs is hot and aching.
His lips part, emitting hot breath across my skin, and I arch my back, needing more. He smirks, knowing that I am at his mercy and loving it. Sex wasn’t part of the deal. Sex was off-limits. I am a rule follower, but I’ll be damned if I am going to bring that up now. The world could be on fire and I would find a way to hide it from him as long as he kept doing what he’s doing.
Honestly, it would be a lovely way to die. Preferable even.
“Do you like that?” he asks with a gritty lilt in his voice.
“Mmhmm,” I whine with a nod.
He covers one nipple with his mouth, his tongue circling and swirling around it before thrashing against it. I cry out and he switches sides, pampering the other nipple with the same treatment. For a moment, he goes back and forth, again and again, licking, sucking, nipping, and anything else that makes me whimper.
Finally, when I am nearly raw with pleasure, he presses himself up and goes lower, positioning himself at the end of the bed.
