37. Caretaker Dom
THIRTY-SEVEN
CARETAKER DOM
Lake
When I go in the bathroom, Alessio’s under the shower, washing his hair. His face is turned toward the stream and his eyes are closed, giving me an uninterrupted view of his beautiful body. Maybe I was wrong to think of him as Hercules. Adonis seems more appropriate now.
I slip out of my underwear and shove them into the laundry basket before stepping into the shower.
The moment I step in, Alessio trades places with me, and I face him. Usually, the water takes a minute to penetrate my thick, curly, dark hair, but Alessio speeds it up when he runs his fingers through it. He depresses my scalp and starts massaging, his large hands engulfing my entire head. I close my eyes.
My shoulders relax, my mind drifting away as he massages my scalp. I reach up and grab his biceps to hold on to them because I’m literally swooning and might go weak at the knees and hit my face on the tile. Which would end my good times here.
Twice, he applies shampoo to my hair, and a familiar smell I can’t quite place triggers my memory. “What kind of flower is this?”
“Gardenia blossom,” he says.
“Oh, I love that smell.”
“I know.”
I open my eyes and catch him focusing on washing my hair. Being the object of all his attention is a beautiful thing. I rise on my toes to try to kiss him, but he tilts his head back.
I press my palm against his belly and feel his muscles contract.
He looks down his nose at me, smirks, and continues to shampoo my hair. Again, I close my eyes and relax. Fully relaxed this time, I smell the scent of blossoms in the air, feel the fingers in my hair, the water cascading down my back, and the warmth of his body where my hand touches his skin.
Alessio rubs in the conditioner, its scent gentler than the shampoo. Still gardenia, I believe.
“Turn around.”
Once I do, he lifts my hands and places my palms on the tile so I can support myself when he presses his front to my back. His erection pokes my spine.
“The curve of your back will be the end of me,” he says.
I reach behind me and wrap my hand around his girth and start stroking him.
Alessio bites my shoulder, digs his teeth in until I yelp and release his cock. A warning. I shouldn’t touch Alessio without permission. It’s something he asked for during the night at the hotel, and I failed to honor it so many times. I think he has that rule so that when I break it, he can punish me. Playfully, of course. Alessio’s not into pain, and neither am I.
I press my hand against the tile.
Alessio steps back, and I feel my detangling comb run through my hair.
He kisses the spot he bit. “I promise you’ll get all the dick you can handle tonight. Just not right away. You think you can wait?” I open my mouth to answer, but he tsks. “It’s a rhetorical question. You will wait.”
Alessio steps behind me, and this time, he slides his cock down and between my ass cheeks, where he leaves it while he combs through my hair. I push back against his hardness and wiggle, then rise on my toes to try to position it at my needy core, but that gets me two hard slaps on the bottom.
The heat of Alessio’s body disappears, and I turn to see him lathering his hands with soap.
“Since you’re being a needy brat tonight, I’ll have to restrain you. I’ve brought just the thing for you, pet.” His eyes glow. Uh-oh.
“Will I like it?” I ask, suspicious of how excited he seems.
“To be determined.” He wraps his hand around my throat, pushes me against the tile, and kisses the tip of my nose, each cheek, and a corner of my mouth. He lathers soap over my body, paying close attention to my breasts, where he pauses to tug and pinch my nipples before moving his hand between my legs.
When he touches my core, I sigh with pleasure, but it’s short-lived because he removes his hand.
He looks at his fingers and rubs them together. “You’re dripping wet. Are you aching?”
I nod.
“I can’t hear you, Lake.”
“Yes, Alessio.”
“What are you hurting for?” He strokes my clit. When I try to glide over his fingers to get more friction, he squeezes my throat.
I shut my eyes tightly before I say, “I ache for your dick inside me.” I sound cringy. Dirty talk makes me uncomfortable, but that’s exactly why Alessio wants me to do it. He pushes the limits of comfort for me, but even more so with himself. He’s a natural risk-taker, even as he seeks security and control. The combination makes him a complex man to understand.
Alessio pushes two of his long fingers inside me and slides them in and out. He strokes that spot inside me that I’m not sure I could even find on my own. It makes my eyes roll back. My hips jut out, and my body drifts toward him as if he’s the center of gravity.
I prop my leg on his knee to give him better access as he pumps his fingers inside me. I pant loudly, seeking an orgasm I know is coming soon, and just before it does, Alessio slaps my pussy, cutting off my pleasure immediately.
Heaving breaths, I cry out, “Nooo.”
Alessio pins me against the tile and catches the last part of my scream with his mouth. We start making out, and my hands roam all over his body. He’s wet, and I can’t find a good grip to pull him even closer to me, even though he’s pressed against me already.
I’m feral with need, frustrated and helpless. I grab his forearms and dig my fingernails into them. Hard.
Alessio growls into my mouth and picks up my leg.
Yes!
Suddenly, he steps away and leaves the shower.
No!
I lean against the tile, catching my breath while he yanks two towels off the rack. With one, he dries himself, and he shakes out the other while his blue eyes are on me. We almost did it in the shower. Gah. Why can’t I have some dick and then dry off?
I twist my bottom lip into a pout and slump my shoulders, looking like a miserable wet puppy as I step out of the shower.
Alessio chuckles. “You can beg and see where that gets you.”
Hopeful, I instantly beg. “Please?”
Alessio draws me in front of him to face the mirror. He’s so much taller than I am that I can see his entire face. I don’t know what he sees, but I see a couple. I see a man and a woman who could have been. I see a couple that could’ve made each other very happy. But fate or destiny or whatever it wants to call itself is cruel and merciless when it comes to matters of the heart.
Maybe some cosmic bad luck says I don’t deserve nice things, and so it’s showing me what I could have had but never can, because if Alessio ever found out I spied on him, he’d end me.
If not literally, then he’d definitely cut me out of his life.
This thing with Alessio?
I don’t have to lift a finger.
For fuck’s sake, I don’t even have to bathe. He’ll wash me.
Alessio grabs my detangler and inverts it into his palm before finger-combing it through my hair. He then puts in the leave-in conditioner, then hands me my toothbrush with toothpaste.
I brush my teeth while he twists my nipples, and when I bend to rinse my mouth, he strokes my entrance from behind. It takes everything I have to continue with my oral care and not push back against his fingers.
Once I’m done, he praises me. “Good girl. Do you want me to dry your hair or braid it?”
“Braid!” I’m shocked at the pitch of my voice.
Alessio lifts an eyebrow.
I blush. “Braid, please.”
He nods and parts my hair with the comb. “Why braid and not dry?”
“Drying it takes longer.”
“We have all the time in the world.”
I swallow and hope he doesn’t see through me.
We don’t have all the time in the world. We really don’t.
Once I hand over the stupid plastic thingy, rat out his friend, who is Leo’s uncle Miro, and report on what I overheard Alessio talking about yesterday, I’m off the hook with the sadists. I delivered more than my fair share of the deal, and for their sake and mine, they need to let me off the hook.
If they ask more from me, they risk my exposure and thereby their own. Alessio doesn’t suspect me now, but he’s not stupid nor in love with me. If they continue to press me, I will break, and the house of cards will topple.
“I’m curious,” he says. “Have you written anything about our trip to Paris?”
“Not much, no.”
Alessio frowns. “Why not?”
“You take up most of my headspace.”
Alessio looks at me in the mirror. Our eyes lock, and I hold back what I want to tell him and hope he understands what it is I’m saying.
I’m totally obsessed with how he treats me. I want him, yet I can’t have him, but he ought to know I think the world of him. “You’re hot and funny. A man who takes care of everything and everyone, and you’re a great uncle. Your work ethic is inspiring.”
“True. All true. The flip side is that I have a need to control everything and everyone I allow into my space. I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”
“I have.”
“And?”
“And in time, I think you could work on that.”
“You’re saying there’s hope for us?” he asks casually, but he swallows hard. An awkward silence tells me Alessio is being vulnerable. He’s asking if I like him enough to want to pursue this fire between us.
In a perfect world, I would land on this like a bee on a flower. Where am I going to find a billionaire who wants to take care of me as if I’m his most precious possession? Hm? Yeah, crickets.
But this isn’t that world. I’m forced to lie to him, but I can’t get the lies past my lips. I feel like if I open my mouth and lie now, I’ll betray some kind of principles of the heart I didn’t even know I had. Hearts don’t have principles, but nevertheless, mine feels like it does.
I nod. Helplessly, I nod.
“Good to know,” he says. “If we’re being honest, Lake, what you see is what you get. I’m a grown man, and I’d rather die alone than become someone’s trained puppy. Including yours. Do you understand me?”
I nod again.
“Wait here. Don’t move.” Alessio leaves the bathroom for the bedroom, and I hear him in the closet. The screwdriver and the piece of plastic I retrieved from the grip are still in my pants. Which are in the closet. It’s not like Alessio will search my pants or anything, but I’m nervous as fuck when he takes his time coming back.
Finally, he shows me what he got from his suitcase.