Chapter 35
35
“Iwant you to move in here.”
Faith had just taken a sip of coffee, which she spat out at his words.
“Was that too hot? Shit. I should have tested it first.” Reuben jumped up and poured her a glass of water, holding it to her lips.
“Take small sips, Little Blossom.”
She gaped up at him.
“Small sips.”
She sipped the water, knowing he wouldn’t stop insisting until she did. Then she drew back.
He took the cup of coffee and placed it away from her. “No more coffee for you.” Grabbing a napkin, he wiped her face, then the table.
Yikes.
That was embarrassing.
He’d put together the most amazing breakfast. The small breakfast table next to his state-of-the-art kitchen had a white tablecloth on it.
Because, of course it did. Although now that she’d spat coffee everywhere, it was no longer pristine white. Darn it. Those stains were going to be hard to get out.
When she’d gotten up this morning, the place had smelled like pastries and coffee. Walking into the kitchen, she’d been amazed as she’d taken in the plates filled with croissants and Danishes. The bowls of fruit salad and thick, creamy yogurt.
Three types of juice.
Three!
And coffee. Sweet, sweet coffee. Which was now staining the tablecloth.
Yeah, it was probably for the best that he was setting it away from her. She couldn’t be trusted with it.
“Corn and camellias,” she murmured to cheer herself up. At least she hadn’t spilled the coffee down his T-shirt that she was still wearing.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “No need to swear.”
“I wasn’t swearing.” She gave him a surprised look.
“You said corn and camellias. Isn’t that your way of swearing? Some of that country charm.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
“Watch those eyes, brat.”
Faith shifted around in her seat. She could sit well enough today, but she could definitely feel that she’d been spanked last night.
Waiting until he’d turned around, she poked her tongue out at him.
“And your tongue,” he warned. “Unless you want me to do something else with it.”
Um. She might.
But she put her tongue away in case he wasn’t talking about a blow job. With Reuben, it could be anything.
“Corn and camellias is what I say to make myself feel better. Like words of affirmation. Or thinking about your happy place or something like that.”
“Corn and camellias are your happy place?” he asked.
“Well. Yeah. My family grows corn and I know probably a hundred recipes to make with it. Camellias are my favorite flowers. So I guess you could say that corn and camellias are my love language.”
“I’m your love language,” he muttered.
No, he wasn’t.
But he might well be the man she loved. Perhaps it would be best if she kept her mouth shut, though.
“Okay. Good to know. Your happy words are probably something like destroy and conquer. Or veal and lamb.”
“Why the hell would my happy words be baby animals?” he asked.
“Oh, because I figure you like eating them. No?”
“You don’t have a very good opinion of me, do you?” he asked drily. “I like to eat young animals and destroy and conquer.”
“Umm.” Wow. She’d really dug herself a hole, hadn’t she?
He placed a Danish and a croissant on her plate and then pulled over the bowl of fruit.
“This looks so delicious. You did an amazing job. I’m sorry I got coffee everywhere. I’ll try to get the stain out. Actually, I should probably soak it now. I’ll just move everything off the table and?—”
She stood and he gently grasped hold of her arm, tugging her back into her seat. Then he sat next to her.
“Leave the tablecloth.”
“But it will stain,” she protested.
“So?”
She bit her lip. She’d still try to get the stain out later.
“You’re not washing the damn tablecloth, baby.”
She sighed as he forked up a piece of strawberry and held it up for her.
Faith took the strawberry without thought.
“And I can’t claim that I set this all up. My housekeeper came in and did it.”
“On a Sunday?” She gaped at him.
“Yep.” He held up a piece of kiwi.
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“Eat it. It’s good for you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like kiwi. She really came in on a Sunday?”
“I pay her very well. Would you like a drink of juice?”
“Yes, please.” She sighed longingly as she stared at the coffee. “Pineapple, please.”
Reuben poured her a glass of juice and held it up for her to sip from. She tried to take the glass, but he brushed her hand away.
All right. She guessed he didn’t want a repeat of the coffee-massacre.
And she actually liked him doing all of these things for her. Sometimes, it felt like her Little was starved of affection. And each of these gestures was feeding her. Bit by bit.
She still really needed some more coffee. Maybe she could sneak up to the kitchen back at Cammie’s without Eric seeing her.
During the weekends, he stayed glued to the television in the living room anyway.
Reuben reached over and grabbed her cup of coffee, taking a sip from it.
Oh no, now that was just mean.
Was he deliberately taunting her with it?
How could he be so cruel?
“What’s that face for? You look like someone ran your puppy over.”
She gasped. “Oh no, that would be a far more devastated face. Like this.”
Faith showed him her devastated face.
“Good to know. Here.” He held the cup of coffee up to her lips. “It’s cooler now.”
That didn’t sound pleasant, but she was desperate for some caffeine, so she gulped it down.
“Easy, baby. You don’t want to choke.” He set the cup of coffee down and picked up the Danish, holding it to her mouth. “Now, about you moving in.”
That time, it was flakes of pastry that went everywhere as she coughed.
“I think we might need to get you checked by a doctor,” he murmured, grabbing a napkin to clean her up again.
Great. She’d just gotten Danish everywhere.
Faith groaned. “This is all your fault.”
Reuben raised his eyebrows. “It’s my fault that you keep spitting things out? How do you figure that?”
“Because you keep talking about me moving in here.”
“That’s a problem?”
“Yes!”
“What exactly is the problem?” he asked calmly.
“Well, for one, we work together.”
“And that’s an issue?” he asked.
“Well . . . what if you get sick of seeing me all the time?”
“Having you with me all the time is a positive. It means that I can keep an eye on you. Otherwise, I’d just have to pay someone to watch over you. Next problem.”
There was so much to unpack in that statement that she didn’t know where to begin.
Running her hand over her face, she decided to let all of that go and concentrate on the matter at hand.
“We’ve only known each other a short time.”
“You’ve worked for me for three months.”
“Yes, but . . . that was working together. Not being together.” Surely, he understood that.
“Same thing. In fact, I could argue that working together means we know each other well.”
Okay, now she had him.
“Do we, though? I mean, do you know what my favorite color is?”
“Pale blue, like your eyes. Although you also love lilac.”
All right. She guessed she wore those colors a lot.
“Well, what about my favorite drink?”
“Pineapple juice or coffee. You also like water with cucumber and mint in it. Which is just weird.”
“It is not! It’s delicious!” She frowned. He was doing far better at this than she thought he would.
“My favorite television show.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then he smiled. “That reality baking show.”
Her mouth dropped open. “All right, how did you know that?”
Was he stalking her?
“I heard you talking to that woman that brings food up from the café below, asking her about what was going on and lamenting that you hadn’t seen the latest shows. Then I caught you watching it on your computer. At work.”
She could feel herself growing pale. “I, um, that was on my own time!”
“On my computer.”
“I’m really sorry. Am I fired?”
“What did I say about getting fired?”
“That you wouldn’t fire me, but you would punish me in other ways.”
Which kind of sounded worse.
Maybe.
“I’d also like to point out that last night I had my tongue in your pussy. Do you really think I’d fire you over something you did two weeks ago after I found out how good your pussy tastes?”
“Reuben!” she protested. “You can’t say things like that.”
He lifted her onto his lap and spooned up some yogurt. “I can say whatever I like. I’m the boss. At work and at home. And you know it.”
Boy, did she know it.
He fed her more yogurt.
“So, do you have any more issues with moving in with me?” he asked.
“I just . . . I don’t think it’s the right time. I mean, am I really who you want?”
“You’re the only woman I’ve dated in years. The only assistant who’s lasted longer than a week. The only Little I’ve ever been with outside the club. Do you really think that I haven’t thought this through? That I don’t know what I want?” He touched her cheek, turning her to face him.
“All right, I believe you’ve thought about it. But maybe you could give me a few minutes to catch up.”
“A few minutes? I can do that.”
She groaned. He knew she hadn’t meant that literally.
“Come with me.” He set her on her feet and took hold of her hand. Then he led her through the enormous apartment. Seriously, this place was gorgeous.
Opening a door, he took her into the most amazing room she’d ever seen.
“A library?” she whispered. “You have a library in your home?”
“I do.”
Three walls were filled with wooden bookshelves that went up to the ceiling. The fourth wall had two big two windows that flanked a gas fireplace.
A ladder ran along the shelves to use to reach the higher shelves.
There was a desk at one end of the room and in front of the fire were two leather club chairs.
Moving to one, she sat on it as he turned on the fireplace.
“This is . . . it’s amazing.”
“This isn’t all that you’d get by moving in with me.” He took hold of her hand again, leading her out of the room.
“But . . . but . . . I want to stay.” She reached back with a gimme hand. That was her happy place.
Corn and camellias.
“You can go back there soon.” He led her to a door next to the main bedroom.
When he opened it, she stepped inside. Amazement filled her.
This was . . . it was . . . holy heck.
This room didn’t have any wainscoting. The walls were painted that same soft gray, though. Except for one wall which had a mural of a field of wildflowers, complete with butterflies and bumblebees.
There was a pale blue fluffy rug on the floor and white furniture, including a canopied bed with a lilac cover, a rocking chair, dresser and a nightstand. There were also some large cushions on the floor in the shapes of flowers. They appeared big enough to sit on.
Lastly, a string of flower lights was wound around the top of the canopied bed. She couldn’t wait for night to turn them on.
The whole room was tasteful and sweet.
Maybe he did know her well.
Because if she’d reached into her head for a room for her Little, this would be it.
“You’re crying? What’s wrong? Is it the color of the rug? Too pale? The designer said anything darker would clash. She came highly recommended as a Little designer, but I can find someone else.”
“Why would you find someone else? This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“It is?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you had this done for me. Wait, a Little designer? What does that mean?”
“Her name is Glaze. Obviously, not her real name. She designs spaces for Littles. Playroom, nurseries, whatever you want. She told me that her next project is for this billionaire in Colorado who wants his whole backyard turned into a playground for his Little girl.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. This is amazing. I can’t believe you did all of this for me. No one has ever done anything like this for me . . . ”
He turned her toward him. “You deserve this, baby. This and more. And I want to give it to you. I didn’t buy any toys because I wanted you to finish it. Oh, and that bed? It can turn into a crib. There are sides that slide out from under the bed and it’s electric so it can be raised and lowered. We didn’t know how old your Little is, so it made it harder to design the room.”
“Um. Well. About four.”
He shot her a look.
“Four is the age I’ve always regressed to. But sometimes I wish I could go younger.”
“All right. Just know that I don’t care how young your Little is. I will take care of you no matter what.”
Sheesh.
“There’re also some outfits in the closet. Come.” He led her over to the closet doors.
She gasped as she stepped into the walk-in closet. The shelving was white, with LED strip lighting that highlighted the outfits, shoes, and bags inside.
She noticed there were a lot of dresses in pretty pastel colors and patterns with matching footwear and accessories.
“Some outfits?” she asked dryly.
“I know you’ll need more. But I couldn’t resist starting with these ones.”
“Daddy . . . this is . . . it’s incredible. But I feel a bit . . . overwhelmed.”
“Being overwhelmed can be a good thing,” he told her, turning her to him.
He drew her down so she sat on the velvet bench that ran along the middle of the closet.
Then he kneeled in front of her. “Move in with me, baby.”
She wanted to. God, she wanted to so much. And that tone of voice told her that he wasn’t so much asking . . .
As he was telling her.
But she wouldn’t be pressed into anything . . . would she?
Urgh. Why was she even saying no?
He lowered her so she was lying on her back on the bench.
“Reuben,” she protested. “What are you doing?”
“Helping to convince you.”
What . . . how . . . oh my God! He wasn’t!
But, yeah, he had her panties off and was pulling her ass to the end of the bench.
“Reuben, you can’t!”
“Why not?” he asked.
“I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
Then his mouth was between her legs, his tongue running along the slit of her pussy.
Fuck. That felt so darn good. He moved her legs over his shoulders as he pushed two fingers inside her.
Lord . . . the things he could do with his tongue.
Her eyes rolled back in her head as he drove her up higher and higher.
Then, just before she reached that ledge, he drew back.
“What . . . what are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.
“Move in with me,” he demanded.
She shook her head. “I . . . I can’t! Not yet.”
“Not yet? That’s better than no.”
His mouth returned to her pussy. Was he giving in that easily? That was a surprise.
Again, he drove her higher and higher, until she was at the edge. Until she was shaking with the need to come and then he pulled back.
“Nooo!” she cried out, reaching down with her hand. If he wouldn’t finish her off, she was going to have to do it herself.
But he slapped her hand away. “Naughty girl. You’re not allowed to say no or to make yourself come without my permission.”
What the heck?
“That’s not a rule.”
“It is now. I’ll text it to you for your list.”
Honestly. He was impossible.
“Now, how do I punish you for saying the word, no. Hmm?” He let her legs slide off his shoulders but kept them far apart.
Slap!
His hand landed on her pussy and she cried out. It stung and yet that initial lash of pain was followed by such pleasure that she swore she came. Just a little.
“You don’t get to come, baby. I’m sorry.”
But that wasn’t fair. And he didn’t really sound sorry.
A sob broke free. “Please. I need to come.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said in a soft voice as he ran a finger lightly through her folds. “So wet. My poor baby. Too bad you don’t get to come until you agree to move in with me.”
“W-what?” she asked breathlessly.
He stood, then lifted her onto her feet. Only her legs gave way and he had to lift her up onto his hip. Embarrassment filled her as she realized that she was likely leaving a wet patch on the top he was wearing.
She wriggled. “Put me down.”
“No.” He carried her through the bedroom and into an attached bathroom.
Her mouth dropped open again. This bathroom was almost as opulent as his. Except it was white marble and had a single shower. The bath tub was clawfoot, and there were pale blue towels hanging on the towel rack.
“I need to get cleaned up.”
“That’s why I brought you in here.” He set her down in front of the vanity. “Hold on to the edge.” He grabbed a cloth and ran it through warm water.
“You can’t make it a rule that I can’t come until I move in,” she told him firmly.
That was going too far. Because she really, really needed to come. It was an ache. Her clit was throbbing and all she could think about was getting some release.
“Yes, I can,” he replied as he wet a cloth. “Spread your legs.”
“Reuben.”
“I prefer Daddy or Sir,” he told her. “Sir, at the office or in bed. Daddy, the rest of the time.”
Her stomach twisted.
Calling him Daddy made her feel so happy. Yet so scared at the same time.
“Spread your legs.” It was said firmly, and she found herself parting her legs.
To her shock, he reached between her legs with the warm cloth and placed it over her pussy. She let out a shocked cry, moving up onto her toes.
“Easy,” he said. “The cloth will help you calm down.”
Holy. Heck.
The warmth of the cloth actually felt really good, even as her face grew bright red.
He drew the cloth back and put it back under the warm water.
“Move back slightly and bend over.”
“Daddy,” she whispered. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can. You’re doing what Daddy wants. Bend over and let me take care of you.”
Fudge.
She shuffled back and bent over. He flicked the bottom of the T-shirt over her bottom, baring her to his gaze. Then he proceeded to gently wash her.
Her breathing deepened.
What was he doing to her?
“It’s not fair to withhold orgasms until I move in with you. That’s blackmail.”
He pulled her T-shirt down and then helped her stand before putting the cloth in the hamper.
“It is.”
“I don’t know how you can’t see that it’s blackmail . . . wait, you agree?”
He walked back over to her and lifted her onto the counter, stepping in between her open legs. He placed a hand on either side of her hips.
“Of course it’s blackmail,” he murmured. “I’ll use any weapons in my arsenal to get you to do what I want.”
“That’s . . . that’s . . . urgh! You’re impossible. You can’t just go around blackmailing people.”
He grinned. It was a wicked, evil, gorgeous, sexy grin that had her entire body twisting with desire.
Darn him.
Why did he have to look so incredible? And why did she have to find him so irresistible?
“Of course I can. Who are you going to complain to?”
“There . . . there’s got to be someone I can complain to about this! Maybe the Little police? The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Littles! SPCL!”
Amusement filled his face. “Poor baby. Someone needs to come, don’t they?”
Yes!
But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Mostly because it was very obvious.
She huffed out a breath, remembering what Cat had said how she had the power since he just wanted her to be happy.
Well, this wasn’t making her very happy.
“You’re being so mean, Daddy. You don’t really mean it, do you?” She pouted.
“Poor baby.” He leaned in and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into the kiss. His tongue teased her. She attempted to push her thighs together, but he stood between her legs, keeping them apart.
She just needed some friction against her clit.
But he drew back and cupped her pussy with his hand.
“Please, please.”
“I know, baby. I know you need to come. But just imagine how good it’s going to feel when you move in here and I give you all the orgasms you desire.”
“You’re a bad, bad man.”
He was impossible. And Cat was wrong. Obviously, Alejandro was far less stubborn and more understanding than Reuben was.
“Well, I never claimed to be the good guy. You know that. If I have to be the bad guy to get what I want, then that’s what I’m going to do. But I’m your bad guy.”
That should not be sexy.
Red flags.
Do not give in to him. Do not.
“You cannot get your own way all the time,” she warned.
“Does this mean that you’re moving in with me?” he asked, sounding surprisingly relieved.
“It means I’ll think about it. God help me.”
“God won’t be able to help you, baby.”
No. Not when she was attracted to the devil.
“You’re thinking that I’m the devil right now, aren’t you?”
“No! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She so was. And it was terrible that he could read her so easily.
Darn her silly, readable face.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “My methods might be outside the norm, but if they get us what we both want and need, is it really so bad?”
“I just . . . you can’t pull this every time you want something. It’s not fair.”
He nodded slowly, then cupped her chin and ran his thumb along her lower lip. “You’re right.”
“I am? Well, of course I am.”
“Hmm. Not about me using blackmail to get my way, I’m going to still do that. But I should give you some time to catch up to where I am.”
Relief had her shoulders dropping.
But there was some sadness mixed in. Was she sad that she wasn’t moving in with him?
Darn it.
Had she made the wrong decision?
You can’t move in with a man that you only had sex with last night.
“Oh, is that your main objection? I mean, we can remedy that easily enough.” Amusement had his eyes dancing.
“No! Crap. I said that out loud, huh? I have to stop doing that!” It was so annoying. “And that is not my only objection.”
“Huh, too bad,” he replied.
“So you’re going to give me time to think about it? And during that time, I’m allowed to come, right?”
“With my permission.”
Fudge.
“If you aren’t with me and you want to come, you’ll need to text or call me, understand?”
Her heart raced. She couldn’t do that. No way.
Relax.
Why would she need to come when she wasn’t with him? Sure, she liked to use her toy to relax at night so she could sleep. But she was certain she could fall asleep without coming first.
It wasn’t like any of the orgasms she’d given herself lately were that enjoyable anymore. Not when she knew that Eric and Cammie were just upstairs and could hear her if she got too loud.
“Understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s my good girl.” He slid his thumb into her mouth. “Suck.”
She sucked on his thumb, and she swore she could feel her clit throb with each suck.
It was incredible.
More . . . she wanted more.
“Now, how long should I give you to come to a decision?”
Wait. He couldn’t put a time limit on this.
Of course he can. This is Reuben. This is what he does.
She tried to move her mouth away from his thumb, but he shook his head. “Keep sucking like a good girl. It helps me think.”
Faith glared at him. It helped him think? Was he for real right now?
“All right. One week.” He moved his thumb from her mouth.
“One week! You can’t give me a timeline of just one week! That’s—” Her protest broke off into a groan as he slid his wet thumb over her swollen clit. “You don’t play fair.”
“Now, she gets it. I play dirty. Do you want to come? Or do you want to keep arguing?”
“Come. I want to come.”
“That’s my good girl.” He flicked her clit. Lightly at first, then faster. Harder.
God, she was so close already.
“Take the T-shirt off. I want to see your pretty tits.”
She moaned. Why did the way he called them tits turn her on so much?
Reaching for the bottom of the T-shirt, she stripped it off and he moved his thumb faster.
“Feet on the counter and push your ass forward. I want full access to this pussy.”
The things he said . . . they made her squirm, turned her on, and she couldn’t help but want more.
She moved into place and he immediately pushed two fingers deep into her pussy.
“Ohh. I need to come. Please, please, Sir. Let me come.”
“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asked, his thumb swirling around her clit.
She nodded. “I will. I will.”
“So in a week’s time, you’ll be moving in with me.”
Faith wasn’t certain she had a lot of choice. But right now, she didn’t much care.
“Won’t you, baby?”
“I . . . I will possibly do that.”
“Hmm. I’ll take that. For now.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing along her jaw until he reached her ear. “See? I can bend.”
Uh-huh, he was a regular contortionist. She didn’t say anything, though, because she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing.
He flicked her clit faster and faster, his mouth working down her neck and chest until he reached her breasts. He tugged on her nipple lightly with his teeth until she cried out and came around his fingers.
Oh God.
It was so good that it almost hurt.
The sweetest sort of pain.
She barely noticed him pulling down his pants. But then he was sliding inside her.
And that sweet sort of pain turned into the world’s greatest pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his waist, just holding on for dear life as he fucked her into another life-shattering orgasm.
He was smart. Gorgeous. Fun. Protective. Occasionally sweet.
And darn good with his tongue.
Yeah, perhaps moving in with Reuben Jones wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.