Bad Boy Dom (10 page)

He leaned back and looked at me. Looking down, I could see my dark nipples through the soaked fabric. It made me feel very exposed knowing that he could see most of my breasts and I flushed, a deep red flush spreading all over my face. Soon, the warmth of the butter began to chill and I shivered as cold, wet fabric pulled across my nipples. Dom reached a hand out and tweaked one, making me yelp and thrash in pain. He reached out with his other hand and used a razor blade to cut the front of my shirt open, tearing it all the way down the front with a neat slice. I gasped as he peeled the damp shirt away from my breasts, exposing them to the air. Dom took my nipples into his mouth, one at a time, warming my breasts and sending bolts of pleasure through my whole body. He grinned at me, nipping me hard enough to leave a bite mark.

I could only watch as Dom stood up and stretched, setting down the paintbrush and looking at the rest of the tray with interest. He selected another brush from his ease and dipped it into another one of the jars, watching me closely. With his free hand, he pushed the ruined rags of my shirt behind my back, caressing the underside of my breast. Then he took the paintbrush and rubbed it over my nipples. The feeling of soaked hairs on my bare skin was incredible and I gasped, watching him leave traces of something warm, sticky, and caramel-colored.

“Dulce de leche,” Dom clarified, leaning in and licking at the gooey caramel sauce coating my nipples. I moaned loudly, furiously grinding my hips against his thigh. The torture on my nipples was getting to be too much; it was almost painful. Dom licked and sucked and dragged his teeth over my skin, ignoring my cries and pleas for him to stop. I felt pleasure build in my belly and pulsate through me, my skin quivering with lust. Finally, Dom pulled back, licking his lips. The skin of my areolas and nipples was red and swollen and he nodded approvingly as he put both of the paintbrushes away.

Dom got on all fours and crawled between my legs, nuzzling at my belly. “Michelle,” he started, staring directly at my crotch. I felt my pussy throb with shame and pleasure as he gaped at me, inches away. “These are going to have to go,” he mused aloud, rubbing his chin. “But you can’t close your legs. So what are you going to do?”

I shook my head, nervously, feeling my cheeks pink. “I trust you,” I managed to stammer; captivated by the grin he gave me in response.

“Good,” he said, biting the inside of my thigh. Desperately, I shoved my hips forward, eager for him to touch me between the legs. Dom ignored me though, and dragged the tray over, looking at the remaining two dishes. He dipped his fingers into one of them, rubbing them together. It looked like more butter, or maybe olive oil, and I tensed thinking of him touching my swollen, painful nipples again.

This time, the liquid wasn’t warm, and it didn’t smell like butter. I could feel small bits of spice in whatever he was using, and I looked down, trying to figure it out. Dom pouted at me and I knew he was mocking my expression, and I furrowed my brow, trying to figure it— “Oh!” I gasped hoarsely, feeling a warm, tingly pain on my nipples.

“A little bit of cayenne in olive oil,” he murmured, stroking my nipples between two fingers and pinching them, making me shriek. Between my legs was burning and I was desperate for him to touch me.

“Dom, please,” I begged, feeling tears come to my eyes. “Please, please touch me.”

“I’m going to do just that,” he said, wiping his fingers in my mouth. Instantly my tongue and lips were burning and oily, I licked them, but the sensation came back after a second. I licked them again, already feeling my skin begin to dry out. “You’re going to come and then we’re going to take care of that little problem,” he gestured at my chest. I could see that my nipples were stiff and swollen to almost twice their normal size, engorged with the extra blood drawn by the cayenne. They ached and pulsed pain, but the feeling was such an incredible turn on. I could feel a puddle of dampness on the bed between my legs. I licked my dry, burning lips and looked down, mesmerized, as Dom produced the razor blade and made a slit in the front of my panties. I could feel my clit throb as he slipped his fingers inside, wiggling them against my soaking wet skin. The feeling was explosive, and I gave a full-throated moan, eagerly grinding my pussy against his hand. With a soft tearing sound, Dom ripped through my panties as if they were tissue paper and tossed them away, gently stroking my labia. I wriggled and begged, desperate to come. With every growing second, the pepper burned my sensitive nipples more and more, and I was desperately trying to rub my chest against my bound arms. Dom watched me struggle for a minute and laughed, kneeling on the bed and putting his hands on my hips. Suddenly, he pulled me down hard, so I was balanced on my lower back, with my legs in the air. The position hurt my back a little bit, but was a major relief on my achy shoulders, and relief flooded my body. Dom kept my legs spread and flattened himself on the bed in front of me. I could only see the smallest tuft of his blonde hair peeking between my legs, and a slight nervous feeling began to build in my belly.

Softly, Dom stroked the inside of my thigh and my labia, spreading me apart with one hand. I gasped to feel his fingers make contact with my clit; heavenly sensations began to flood my body. Even the stinging pain on my breasts felt good, and I moaned, feeling incredibly over-stimulated and hot. I could feel moisture leaking out of my pussy and dripping down between my ass cheeks, and Dom traced a drop with his free hand, spreading me apart. Even though he couldn’t see me, I flushed red-hot. The shame of knowing that Dom was looking right at my exposed asshole spread through me and I burned with embarrassment.

Dom gently started massaging my clit in little circles with his thumb, and he started nibbling and kissing the cheeks of my ass as he kept me spread wide open with his other hand. I felt his tongue gently poke at my asshole and I moaned at the unexpected, delicate sensation. Slowly, I felt my muscles relax as he kept lapping at me with his tongue, murmuring and moaning all the while. Gentle vibrations flooded my body and his thumb on my clit was explosive. I couldn’t move except to kick my legs in either direction. Dom slid his tongue and began to flick the tip against the delicate skin of my ass. The strokes on my clit from his thumb became faster and faster and I felt my whole body explode in an earth-shattering orgasm that left me gasping and heaving. Tears began to fall from my eyes, and Dom leaned back and sat up, reaching over to untie my wrists from the bedframe.

“Go clean up,” he instructed, stretching out on the bed. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

My legs felt like jelly as I walked to the bathroom, running the warm water and gently soaping the cayenne oil off my breasts. The washcloth stung and I winced, but it was over in a moment and I felt my body flooded with pleasure again. I peed and looked at myself in the mirror, unable to believe the things Dom and I had just done. Thinking about him gently rimming my ass was making me hot again, and I blushed all over.

When I got back to the room, Dom was dressed and relaxing on the bed, stretched out. “Come here,” he said and patted the area beside him. I curled up and he covered me with a blanket, stroking my hair and kissing me on the forehead.

“What was that?” I asked, looking at him. “You didn’t get off,” I pointed out.

“I wanted to do something just for you,” he replied, winking at me. I flushed again, nestling deeper into his arms. “I wanted you to know how important you are to me all the time.”

“Thank you,” I said, closing my eyes and resting my head against his arm. My whole body felt worn out. I couldn’t believe that we’d had incredible sex over and over; it felt like something out of a dream. It was hard to believe that less than a week had passed since we made up. As I drifted off to a quiet nap in Dom’s arms, the nagging question of our parents returning shot into my mind.

What were we going to do?

Later that afternoon, I woke up alone. Dom had gotten up and left me a note—oddly, I was getting to the point where I no longer cringed at every reminder of the past. I was starting to feel more confident about Dom, and our past together (or lack there-of.) Maybe it was because we hadn’t really addressed what we were going to have to do when our parents came home. Maybe it was because I was really in love with him. Either way, it was a strange feeling that I welcomed gladly. If we were really going to try to make it work, I was going to have to get over all of my past anxieties and upsets.

He’d written that he was going to be painting for most of the afternoon, and he asked me what we planned on doing for dinner. I blushed as I recalled our deliciously naughty morning in bed together. I didn’t think I’d be able to look at butter (or cayenne) ever again without getting hot and wanting Dom’s mouth on me. He’d conditioned me in the sexiest way possible. I didn’t have any ideas about dinner, but it occurred to me that it would be a good idea to repay the favor. Obviously, I was no master of kinky sex, but I was able to cook a pretty decent meal.

Dom worked all evening, and I was able to slip out to the store unnoticed. I still couldn’t get over how weird it felt to be back in my hometown. I’d made such an effort to forget about everything here, and now it was like I was stuck, back again, unable to divorce myself from the memories. The drive to the store felt like being on autopilot, and I started thinking about all of the times I’d driven myself in high school. Since my dad worked around the clock, more nights than not, I’d come home to an empty, dark house. Sometimes when I knew he’d be coming home for dinner, I’d plan to make something nice for us. Then again, most of those times, he didn’t actually show up. It made more sense for him to nap at the hospital instead of driving all the way home and then back, so as I got older, he did that more often. Thinking about it now made me feel lonely.

The parking lot was almost deserted and the lights were on even though it was barely 7 pm. With a sigh, I pulled the collar of my coat up around my ears and headed inside. The slap of my shoes against the floorboards echoed in my ears and I frowned, suddenly feeling like I was in a bad movie.

I’d decided to make coq au vin for us, but there was a woman and her cart blocking the poultry display. “Excuse me,” I said under my breath, leaning forward and grabbing a package of chicken thighs.

The woman turned around, looking me up and down. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t recognize her. “Just a sec,” she said, as if she was on the phone with someone else. I got the feeling that even though she was staring at me, she wasn’t really in her head.

“What?” I asked, dropping the chicken in my basket. The woman frowned.

“I know you,” she said slowly, biting the inside of her lip. “We went to high school together.”

“You do look familiar,” I admitted. “I graduated in ’09.”

“I was ’08,” she said. “I think we had art class together.” 

The woman rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I guess,” she muttered. “Isn’t your name Michelle?”

“Michelle Tennen,” I offered, trying hard to remember her. She was very pretty, with big blue eyes, asymmetrical nose, and wavy blonde hair. She was much taller than me, and her breasts were pushed into a massive cleavage that was held together with a pink biker jacket. Her skin was too tan for the winter, and I wondered what she was still doing here.

“I’m Desiree,” she said. “I went by Joanne in high school, though.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, I have really terrible face blindness,” I said, feeling awkward. Desiree/Joanne cracked her gum and stared at me.

“Wait a sec,” she said again, in her faux NYC accent. “Your father just married Domenic Thomas’s mom.” She pronounced ‘father’ like ‘fahthah.’

“Yep,” I nodded. “That’s why I’m back in town.”

“I get that,” she said with a dirty look, raking a hand through her hair. “So you and Domenic are brother-sister now? That’s adorable.”

I didn’t say anything; there was a sudden bad feeling building in the pit of my stomach.

“We dated in high school,” she said, leaning in confidentially. “He was a good fuck.”

“Didn’t everyone?” I cracked, guffawing loudly. It echoed through the store and I cringed.

“Whatever,” she said, spinning on her platform heel and turning around. “If you see him, tell him to call me. He has my number.”

“I’ll be sure not to do that,” I replied, making a face at her and walking off. It unsettled me that she’d treated me like that, and it made me wonder if everyone really knew what was going on. Did everyone know that we’d had sex in high school? Thinking of Dad and Sandy finding out was incredibly embarrassing.

Every time I walked back and forth down the grocery aisles, I’d see Desiree/Joanne. She watched me like a hawk, snapping her gum and sneering at me. It gave me a bad feeling, and I couldn’t think of why she suddenly hated me. It was true that I didn’t care about making friends in high school, but I hadn’t been actively mean to anyone, either.

It was a relief when I had found all the ingredients and paid for them. By the time I got home, it was 8:30 and Dom was still working. I coated the chicken in flour and set them in a pan on the stove, hoping the aroma would bring him downstairs. When it didn’t, I went upstairs. On a whim, I dug through my closet, looking at my old Halloween costumes. Most years I’d gone as a cat (horribly inventive) but in junior high, I’d been Cleopatra one year. I found some lace-up sandals and a white tunic dress that grazed my thighs. It was sheer, and I left my bra and panties on the floor. Through the thin fabric of the dress, you could see my nipples.
Good
, I thought.
After the way he tortured me earlier, he’s going to get it right back.

After putting on some light mascara, I headed back downstairs. The smell coming from the kitchen was heavenly, and I knew it would lure Dom out soon. Sure enough, he poked his head out of his room, calling my name. I didn’t answer, but sat down in a kitchen chair, putting my bare feet on the table and spreading my legs.

Dom’s eyes widened as he skidded into the kitchen, in a paint-splattered pair of pants and a white t-shirt. “Michelle,” he breathed, managing to sound both turned-on and chastising. “You’re going to burn dinner.”

“I won’t,” I teased, running a hand down the front of my outfit and stopping right between my legs. Predictably, I was soaked. I rubbed my exposed clit a few times, moaning and keeping my eyes on Domenic. Slowly, I pulled my hand away and walked over to him, wiping it on his shirt. “You teased me earlier,” I said, stretching up on my tiptoes and giving him a kiss. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Okay,” he grinned, sitting down and leaning back with his hands crossed behind his head. “I need a break anyway.”

I poured some wine in the dish and then used the rest to fill two glasses. Handing one to Dom, we clinked and drank in silence. “How’s the painting going?” I asked, leaning over so my ass was on full display. “I bet you were really busy today.”

“I was,” he admitted, looking away. I felt a prick of annoyance with him for not drooling over me.
Damnit, this isn’t fair!

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” I asked, stirring the coq au vin on the stove. It was starting to simmer and bubble beautifully, and I put on some instant rice for us to have with the chicken. Dom still wasn’t looking at me even though I was spreading my legs and arching my back. Pouting, I slumped into a chair opposite from him.

“Well, it’s funny you ask,” he said slowly, raking a hand through his hair. “Ryan must have seen the wedding announcement from Mom and Archie, and he wanted to come over and kick it. Normally, I’d say no, but I haven’t seen him in years.”

I pouted. “Oh.”

“Michelle, don’t be upset okay? We’ve had a lot of alone time together.”

“Fine.” I didn’t want to get into it right then, but I couldn’t believe that he would want to give up time with me for Ryan.

“Why don’t you invite some friends from high school?” Dom asked, picking dried paint from underneath his fingernails. “I bet there are some people still around here.”

An unpleasant image of Desiree/Joanne shot through my mind, and I wrinkled my forehead. “Dom,” I said patiently. “I didn’t have any friends in high school, don’t you remember that?”

“Michelle,” Dom said in the same voice. “You have a Facebook account now, just like everyone else. Why don’t you find some people there?”

I glared at him. It was just like Dom to trivialize my problems like that. “Do you know I ran into one of your little whores at the grocery store today?”

Dom’s smirk vanished and he opened his jaw. I felt slightly guilty; I knew that my words had stung, and I had agreed to try to be nicer, after all. “No,” he said in a stony voice.

“Yup,” I said, standing up and prancing over to the kitchen range top. “Joanne. She said she goes by Desiree now. I bet she’s a stripper.”

Dom’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ of surprise. “She’s not a stripper, exactly,” he frowned. “She dates Ryan now; did you know that?”

“Well, you always said he got the best pussy,” I snarked, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” Dom said in exasperation. “But you can’t be this needy right now! Okay? We don’t even know what’s going on! Can we just take it a day at a time!”

“Okay,” I said, lamely. I felt guilty. I knew that I was acting like a shrew, and I knew that there wasn’t really a good reason for it. “I’m sorry. I’ll try better.”

Dom got up and clasped my hands in his, dwarfing them. “Thank you,” he said, looking down. “And Michelle? You don’t have to try like this,” he gestured to my revealing outfit. “I like you for who you are, you don’t have to act like a porn star to get my attention, okay?”

“Okay,” I blushed again, feeling ashamed. The timer on the stove went off and I dished out portions of chicken over rice, handing Dom a bowl.

We ate in silence, the only sounds in the kitchen were the clinking of our forks against the bowls. I kept tugging the hem of my dress down over my thighs, hoping to make it less obvious how I’d tried to seduce him just now. It was frustrating; why did he get to act however he wanted and I wasn’t allowed to actively desire him?

“Michelle,” Dom cleared his throat, looking down at his empty bowl. “I think it’s best if we focus on being friends and family now. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I care for you really deeply, but it is for the best that we remain just friends now.”

The words stung, but after he’d been acting earlier, it wasn’t a surprise. “Okay,” I agreed, feeling a lump in my throat.

“We’ll be as close as ever,” Dom said, looking at me. He reached out and held my hand, giving it a platonic squeeze. “But this is a really fucked up situation, and I don’t think it’s going to be that easily resolved.”

“I know,” I agreed, looking down. Inside, I felt like someone was wrenching me apart. It was almost worse than reading the note he’d left, but I knew he was right. Even if we moved somewhere where no one knew us, we’d still feel it. We couldn’t come out to Dad and Sandy, not after they were married. I’d been thinking about it all afternoon on my own. Plus, if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t belong with Dom. I didn’t deserve him. He was the golden artist, and I was nobody. I couldn’t even get a job with a salary, for fuck’s sake.

“I think it’s good we agree on this before we have company,” Dom said, squeezing my hand again. The feel of his skin on mine was too much, and I yanked my hand away as if I had been burned.

“I know,” I agreed again, sounding like a petulant child. “I know. It’ll be okay. No one will know.”

Dom deflated, sighing relief. “Thank you, Michelle.” He looked at me and spoke carefully. “I won’t ever let myself hurt you again the way I did before, but we can’t let ourselves hurt anyone else, either. We’re both adults now. We’re capable of having sex, just be sex.”

I winced; even though Dom and I had been pretty kinky together, I still wouldn’t consider it “just sex.” But maybe Dom was right. Maybe it was time I had a real lover. Having only had sex once had always been embarrassing to me, and I knew that eventually, I wouldn’t be too busy to have a personal life. But deep down, I wished that it would still be with Dom.