Chapter Sixteen
? Nicolas ?
Supper is sandwiches. Shredded chunks of meat stuffed between layers of thick bread and topped with crisp lettuce, tomatoes and strips of bacon. We huddle together on the sofa, feet stretched towards the fire as the room continues to shimmer around us.
None of us have spoken for several minutes. Each of us, content watching the flames snap and bite at the logs. Isla sits between us, head lolled to the side, resting on my shoulder.
I know she’s sleeping before Dom slips her plate off her lap and sets it on the coffee table. Her quiet protest is shushed as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her from the room.
I’m gathering our dishes and taking them to the sink when he returns.
“She in bed?” I ask, knowing she is.
He nods. “Tucked her in.” He moves to the counter and watches as I rinse the plates and set them to dry. “You want to tell me what all that was earlier?”
I prolong answering by twisting a dishtowel around my damp fingers.
“I saw Isla’s phone,” I mumble, lifting my gaze to his. “She went to the bathroom and it wouldn’t stop buzzing on the counter. I ignored it the first few times, but…” I give my head a shake and roll my eyes. “I was going to turn the sound off.”
His eyes narrow. “What was it?”
Rather than tell him, I dig my own phone from my pocket and slide it over to him.
“Under photos,” I tell him, stepping back until the edge of the counter comes up against my back.
He says nothing when picking the device up and finding the proper folder.
He doesn’t need to when his face is a billboard in the middle of Time Square.
It’s a neon sign. A blinking hazard, warning those around him to stay away.
There is murder in his eyes and a fierce violence in his grip that almost makes me worry for my phone.
“What the fuck is this?” he snarls, attention tearing off the screen just long enough to find mine. “Is this a joke?”
I don’t answer because we both know it’s not. Plus, he’s gone back to flipping and scrolling, and reading. Finger almost a blur.
“Give me the keys.”
“You’re not driving back like this in the middle of the night... without me,” I add softly. “But we can’t leave Isla alone after promising we wouldn’t.”
“Those mother fucking pieces of fucking shit.” He tosses my phone across the counter. Hard enough that I know there will be a crack, but neither of us care. “I’m going to kill them.”
“I’ll help you.”
He shoves ten fingers back through his hair, frustration flaring his nostrils. “Our poor baby. She never should have had to deal with this alone.”
I nod slowly. “It’s my fault.”
Dom freezes. Dark eyes flick up to my face. “What are you talking about?”
Ashamed of my hand in the pain Isla suffered, I drop my gaze to the floor between my feet.
“You wanted to bring her home with us since day one. I’m the one who kept dragging my feet.
I kept saying not now. If I had listened to you, she would have already been ours and none of this would have happened. I fucked up.”
He doesn’t scoff or roll his eyes. There’s a gentle patience in his eyes when he rounds to my side of the island and gently frames my face between his hands.
“That’s bullshit, baby. There is no way either of us could have known. If we did, we never would have let it happen.”
“I don’t think that makes it better,” I mumble. “It just means we’re oblivious and self-absorbed.”
His chest rises and falls with his deep inhale. “We were, but we can’t fix the past. We can only make sure we never let that happen again. That we protect her. It’s going to take some adjustment. A lot more communicating. We’ll figure it out like we do everything else, right?”
I draw in a breath and will myself to nod.
Dom kisses me, slow and sweet.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“For what?”
He kisses me deeper.
“For being Daddy’s good little boy.” His hand drops to the fastens of my slacks. “For being nice to your sister.” The button comes undone. The zipper follows. “For doing your best.”
I have no brain to think when he dips his hand down my pants and cups me. His fingers curl around the hard shaft already waiting for him and squeezes, and I groan.
“Fuck!”
Dom smirks. His wrist tugs on me with hard pumps that send me back against the countertop, elbows braced on the linoleum. My feet part and that’s all the invitation he needs to dip deeper.
He cups my balls hard enough to send my eyes rolling back.
“I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?”
I don’t know anything about anything when he drops to his knees. Just the sight of him down there has me leaking. Has a thick dribble of precum running down my shaft to coat his stroking fingers.
He licks it.
Runs his tongue up the underside to the purple head, gathering my mess before closing his lips over and down to the base.
“God, fuck, baby!” I whine, hips jerking forward.
Fingers fisting in his hair, holding him, guiding him as he pulls back, sucks lightly on the cap before taking me deep once more. He gets into the perfect rhythm. A slow, steady pace that has my hips matching his pace.
His dark eyes watch my face, lock with mine the way he knows gets me hard. I’ve never had another guy go down on me, but I know no one can curl my toes the way he can with his tongue.
“Shit,” I wheeze, balls tightening. “Going to cum…”
His lips hit my base, my head nestles in his throat. He swallows once and my head falls back. My eyes squeeze shut.
I cum down his throat with choking force, but he swallows every drop and sucks a few more times to make sure he gets everything.
Satisfied I have no more to give, he pushes to his feet, face twisted up into that smirk I love.
“Love your fucking mouth,” I pant, hand shooting out to grip the back of his head.
I yank him to me and kiss him. I force my tongue down his throat to reclaim my jizz still hot across his. My free hand drops to the front of his pants. I pop open the button.
“My turn,” I growl against his mouth. “Want you in my ass, Daddy.”
Dom half growls, half whines as I fish his beautiful cock free and fist him. His eyes are opaque. Twin pits of scorching hunger that reignite my dick to life.
“Take your clothes off and get on the sofa, Nicky.”
I do not question.
I hurry to the sofa, ripping my top up over my head and kicking my shoes off. My pants quickly follow and I’m on the sofa, cock swollen and eager.
Dom moves much slower, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes as he rounds to face me with only his top discarded. The firelight washes along the hard lines and grooves of that delicious torso I could spend hours worshiping.
“On your knees, little whore. You’re taking Daddy’s seed in your tight ass.”
I have to fist my cock and squeeze to keep the pressure down. I’m already so close, I know it’s going to take nothing to make me cum, and Dom knows it.
He knows he can make me beg, put me so on edge I lose my mind.
But I get on my knees. The cushions dip beneath my weight as I turn my body to face the back of the sofa.
“That’s a good boy,” he taunts, lips hot, moving down the column of my spine. “Always so eager.”
Heat prickles my cheek, but I don’t correct him. I say nothing as I hear the hiss and rustle of fabric. Goosebumps prickle and spread over flesh with the whisper of his fingertips ghosting along my side, counting each rib.
“Dom…”
My ass cheeks flinch and clinch seconds before his palm cracks across the curve. The burn sears across my skin, coils with barbed wire around my cock. The sweet pain expels precum down my shaft.
“Want to try again, Nicky?”
He reaches around to grip the cock I’m strangling to death.
Defiant, I shake my head.
His low chuckle scrapes across the back of my neck.
“Are you sure?” He squeezes my cock and jerks hard enough to make my knees shudder. “Remember what happened the last time you acted like a brat?”
I lick my lips, limbs trembling. “No,” I lie.
His laugh is deeper, richer. Amused, but sadistic, because we both know I remember that night very clearly.
Dom edged me for hours, hours where I was tied to our bed and he brought me so close I was in tears.
The entire time, he used me to get himself off.
Cumming in me so many times I leaked for days after.
“I’m going to file this for when we get home to our toy box, Nicky.” The head of his cock nudges my opening and I dig my fingers into the back of the sofa. “Going to tie you down with your ass up, cock strapped to your cage and I’m going to play with your hole until you beg me to stop.”
I make a weak sound of protest I know will be ignored, and that is when he forces his head in dry.
“Fuck!” I hiss at the burn.
At the stretch.
He shushes me the way he had Isla when putting her to bed.
“Bad whores who sass their Daddies get their ass fucked raw.”
No amount of squeezing my eyes shut and holding my breath soothes that sweet agony of him urging himself deeper, pulling back, surging forward.
“I remember when you could only take my head. Your hole was so small, so tight. Now… how many fingers can I get in here, Nicky?”
I exhale in a jagged rush. “Three.”
Dom groans and slams the rest of the way, bottoming out.
“Trained you like the pretty whore you are.”
He doesn’t pull back, but drives deeper with hard, shallow thrusts that send little webs of electricity up my spine. His fingers cut into my hips, holding me steady as he sets a punishing pace that rocks the sofa. Carves trenches in the hardwood with every drag of the legs scraping back.
One hand twists in my hair, yanks my head back. Curves my spine. The other stays on my cock.
“Who’s your Daddy, Nicky?”
He’s close. I can feel the tremors, the erratic thrusts, the ragged pants burning the side of my face.
“You,” I huff, hips driving back, meeting every punch of need.
The hot flood of his release warms my channel with sharp squirts.