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Authors: Holly Roberts

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BOOK: Bad Boy Dom
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The horrifying sight that met my eyes
brought me to the edge of hysterical laughter until I saw his face. The lust in
his eyes was undeniable, as was his pride in his unique, puke-green, atrocious
design. I was a statue of mud, but still his work of art. I might be standing
there, dirty and ugly, dripping with slime, but his eyes and voice, oh his
voice, made me… feel
clean
.

With his words, my heart melted.

Making love while covered in goo was
incredibly erotic, as our bodies slipped and slithered over each other. But too
quickly, the mud began to dry. As it dried, it tightened and made my skin itch,
and patches of the dried green mud started to flake off into dust. I needed the
shower quickly. Without thinking, I pulled away and tried to stand.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m hoping Sir will let me wash his
back.”

“Oh, Little Bird.” The rebuke in his
voice unnerved me but I loved hearing the unique name Mistress gave me spilling
from his lips. I managed to hold back a soft grin.

“There you go again, topping from the
bottom. You’ve already had one orgasm but maybe your slightly damp behind needs
a warm-up.”

My eyes dropped but the buzz of his
words quickened my heartbeat. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“No, you’re not. Go to my bag and choose
a paddle. Be careful and don’t track mud across the floor.”

The bottoms of my feet remained mud-free
but I couldn’t help the smears my hands left on the bag, or the paddle. I
carried my punishing implement back, not quite hiding my excitement.

“You don’t fool me. Maybe I can take a
bit of enthusiasm from your demeanor. We’ll see if you can stay on your hands
and knees throughout your punishment like a good submissive.”

I handed the paddle over and then took
my position as directed. The plastic was slippery, not even close to being dry
like some parts of my now-itchy body.

“We’ll try ten and see where you are.
Count for me.”

He was not as hard on my ass as
Mistress, but the smack was louder because of the wet mud. With each strike,
the sting became a little more intense. He was learning. My breathing
accelerated when the tenth strike landed. My hands and knees slipped causing me
to tighten my muscles and concentrate on staying upright.

“Look at yourself.”

He pulled my hair back and forced me to
look in the mirror. He was standing over my calves, his pelvis above my ass.

“I love your red ass, but I want you to
lie on your stomach and then roll over.”

It was easy to release my knees, slide
flat, and then roll between his legs. I looked up at the luscious mud-covered
Adonis towering over me.

“I’m imprinting this snapshot of you on
my brain.” The sexiness of his words accelerated my breathing even more.

“You’re weird, Sir.” His weirdness made
me feel wicked, dirty, and sensuous, all at the same time. I could only imagine
how strange the flash of my white teeth must look surrounded by this avocado
green mud.

“I know, but you’ve made every girl
mud-wrestling fantasy I’ve ever had come true.” His eyes smoldered.

His hands dropped to mine and then he
pulled, bringing me to my feet. “I want you washing my cock and then taking it
in your hot, snappy mouth.”

I barely remembered the last time I was
in this shower. Then, I didn’t appreciate the dual shower heads or the bench
seat.

We used soap and slowly lathered every
inch of the other’s body. His breathing grew ragged by the time the drain
swallowed the last of the mud. I, Angela, fucked up mental case, felt the power
of shattering this man’s control. He saw me—just me—and for the first time that
I could remember, I felt beautiful.

He directed me to the bench seat and
placed his palms flat against the tiled wall above my head. His cock jutted
before my eyes; erect, large, and incredible. I licked drops of water from my
lips in anticipation and watched his hunger intensify.

“Take me deep.” He said on a groan,
focusing on my mouth.

I was his to command and I worshiped his
cock; learning every ridge, every sweet spot that made him groan, and each move
that drove him crazy. My hands slipped over his ass, digging in, and feeling
the powerful muscles harden beneath my grasp. Finally, his hands tangled in my
hair holding me while he fucked my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I took
all of him, knowing I was made for this, made for him. My power became his.

The muscles beneath my hands bunched
further, and an animal moan tore from his chest. Hot spurts of semen shot down
my throat and I swallowed with relish. My fingers and tongue squeezed and
licked every last bit of cum from his cock. His hips shuddered long and hard
then the taut skin in my hands relaxed and he collapsed to his knees. Pulling
me from the bench, my now-limp body cushioned against his as we let the water
spray over our sensitized flesh.

He was perfect.

He was more.

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

Krispin…

The next morning, lying in bed, the
world seemed brighter.

I checked in with Barry, my AA sponsor,
and assured him I was in control. Bending his ear about Angela, he sounded
happy but cautious. I understood.

Then, I called Wade, the young man I
sponsored who was now working for me. We spoke for over an hour. The twenty-two
year old man somehow survived life on the street after becoming a runaway
addict at age fifteen. He received his ninety-day chip before I left for
Houston. We made a good pair and he was no longer star struck by my larger than
life persona. He had no problem giving me shit and I pushed his buttons right
back. I ended the call after giving him the schedule for my return flight back
to LA for a benefit concert.

The unwanted thought of leaving Angela
after coming so far drove me to approach Lydia. I needed to know her feelings
about taking Angela with me.

“I don’t know, Krispin. She doesn’t
handle society well.”

“This is a short gig, and both you and
Damien tell me she’s stronger than she seems. Let her prove it. We’ll be
together the entire time with Matt and Stephon protecting her, too.”

Lydia looked at her husband and then
back at me. “She takes medication. We keep her life here simple and she doesn’t
become stressed. Your concert will be total chaos.”

“What the hell does she take medication
for?”

Lydia hesitated. I knew she had cared
for Angela for many years, but I needed answers. I needed to understand the
woman I was falling for. “Lydia, please.”

“Depression, obsessive compulsive
disorder, anxiety; they have her down to two pills a day. But, she still
doesn’t handle life like you or I.”

“I’ll make sure she takes her pills.
Jesus, she’s not a child.”

“No, but she came damn close to killing
herself two years ago and I don’t want to pick up those pieces again. Talk to
her first and see how she deals with what you’re asking. I know I’m protective
but she’s placed herself in my hands. As her Mistress, it’s my responsibility.”

All my anger deflated. I had been in
Angela’s life for a very short time. Even with my drug and alcohol addiction, I
had no understanding of things like depression and anxiety. I knew nothing
about OCD except what the acronym stood for. “I’ll talk to her. We’ll only be
gone three days.”

I let Angela sleep in and didn’t wake
her for our usual morning breakfast. Instead, I invited her to my suite to sit
with me while I wrote music.

The sun was shining through the windows,
so I turned the air conditioner on to counteract the heated intensity that came
over me when I worked.

Having her near brought out my
increasingly dominant side. “Undress and I’ll give you a blanket.”

She gave me a short striptease and then
placed her arms around herself, shivering. I lay a pillow on the floor in the
sunlight and handed her the blanket.

The sun stroked her exposed flesh
causing me to groan and briefly close my eyes. “You’re killing me, and I need
to work.”

Her Cheshire smile, combined with her
silky voice, thrummed across my skin. “You invited me. I’m just doing as I’m
told like a good little sub.”

“Hmm, then I didn’t paddle your ass hard
enough last night because there’s nothing good about you.”

“Says the bad boy.”

Bending down, I kissed her adorable
little nose. “The bad boy wants you to be quiet and stop chirping, Little
Bird.”

After a short giggle, which went
straight to my dick, she settled down.

I fell into work and actually forgot
about the dreamy eyes resting on me as the music called. My guitar had a mind
of its own and went through riff after riff; changing, tweaking, and adding
scat vocals. I never stood still when I created and didn’t realize when my
shirt came off. Using a pencil, I scribbled note after note, filling up blank
sheets with music, completely mindless of my surroundings.

The world tumbled back into the present
as I stopped long enough to pour water into my glass. While I had been jumping
and pacing around the room, my angel had been sleeping peacefully cuddled
inside her blanket. I pulled the guitar strap over my head and thought about
grabbing a quick shower to rinse the sweat from my body but my cock had other
ideas. She was too damned hot laying there waiting for me to sink into her
heat.

I went to my knees and pushed a stray
piece of her hair from her face. Her eyes opened, and stunning green shimmers
slowly focused. Soft, sensuous lips tipped into a sleepy smile.

“Push the blanket back.” I whispered.

“It’s still cold.” Her throaty voice
went straight to my cock.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

She pushed the material away from her
body and my hand ran over her arm and then circled the outline of her breast
before lightly squeezing her nipple.

“I like the way you smell.” That dreamy
rasp in her voice was my undoing.

“It’s sweat. I should have showered
first but my cock aches to be deep inside you.”

“Hmm, I love sweat.” Her arms lifted and
sunlight kissed our bodies as I made love to this incredibly beautiful woman.

***

We missed lunch, but I ordered an early
dinner. Sitting across the small ottoman on the floor, sharing each other’s
food, I broached the subject of the benefit concert.

Her eyes grew huge and her hand trembled
before sitting her water glass down. “I’m not sure.”

“I know it sounds scary but this isn’t
the normal crazy rock-n-roll venue. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

It hurt to have her look away, and I
couldn’t help but tip her head back in my direction. Seeing the fear in her
eyes had me reaching under her arms and pulling her across the short space
between us. The dishes and water glasses went flying as I leaned back and
brought her on top of me. Salad dressing trailed across the t-shirt I gave her
to wear while we ate. She looked down at her chest and then to the floor at the
mess I made.

“You’re weird.”

“All the better to eat you with, my
dear.”

I rolled us over and pushed her legs
apart, burying my face in my favorite corner of the planet. Then, I feasted.

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Angela…

I could feel Mistress’s apprehension but
she released my hand and placed it in Krispin’s. “I know you can do this,
Little Bird. Damian, Abigail, and I will be waiting when you return.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” She leaned into
me and took my lips in a deep kiss.

“God, Lydia, that’s damn hot.” Damian
looked from me to his wife and we all laughed.

“I don’t want her to forget who owns
her.” Lydia looked hard into Krispin’s eyes and didn’t give an inch.

Krispin wouldn’t back down. “You’ve
staked your claim but I agree with Damian. Will you kiss her again when we get
back? It’s damn hot.”

“Get out of here before I drag you to
the dungeon and tie you both up.”

“Promises, promises.” He laughed.

The wicked redheaded Domme slapped his
ass when he grabbed my hand and walked me out.

Carl drove us to the airport and Krispin
took us quickly through the VIP security and then into a private lounge to wait
for our plane. Damian offered his private jet but for some reason Krispin
wanted to fly on a commercial airline. He wore dark sunglasses and his favorite
baseball cap, but I noticed quite a few eyes following his every move.

His strong, warm hand took mine again
after we sat down in first class. He pulled my fingers to his mouth, kissing
each knuckle and causing shivers across my skin.

He gave me an odd look. “Too many
musicians die on private planes and it’s bad karma. I take commercial flights
or use my private bus on tours. And before you say it, I know I’m weird.”

BOOK: Bad Boy Dom
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