CHAPTER THIRTEEN
S TEFANIE
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I KNEW HE WAS STILL waiting for me to tell him whether or not I was enjoying this punishment a bit too much. I refused to tell him what he already knew. So, I remained silent, rebelling against the addiction that I was forming for this man.
“The cat’s got your tongue, huh?” he mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss to the area he’d just spanked.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying my best not to react. I knew he felt the change in my body. Still, I tried to hide it. I was in denial.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I’m learning that you like to hide how you truly feel behind a wall of silence. I’m going to teach you to say what you feel, sweet Stefanie,” he whispered.
How was he planning to do that? Oh, that’s how! Julian's fingers trailed over my ass, then slid between my thighs. I bit back a groan as they slipped between my damp folds, his touch both gentle and possessive as he cupped my pussy.
"You're dripping wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he coated his palm in my essence. "Seems you enjoy being punished, Stefanie."
A shiver coursed through me at his words, and I bit my lip, unable to deny the truth. I couldn’t deny it even if I wanted to. The proof was coating his fingers.
“Couldn’t even make it through a punishment without getting soaked,” he whispered as he slid two fingers into my tight channel.
My fingers tightened in the sheets as I tried to hold my body still. But I knew he could feel my pussy quivering around his fingers.
“I don’t know if this was a punishment or a reward,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the small of my back.
“Bad girls deserve rewards, too,” I groaned as he slid a third finger into me.
“Does my bad girl think she deserves a reward?” he asked.
“Yes,” I moaned, pushing back against his fingers, causing them to sink deeper into me.
He curled them just right, sending pleasure radiating from my core.
“What reward does my bad girl want?” he asked, fingering me slowly, my arousal reaching levels I wasn’t sure I could handle.
“That cock,” I groaned, wanting his thick length buried deep within me.
He slowly withdrew his fingers from me. I looked back to find him sliding my juices over his already hard cock.
“Face forward,” he ordered.
I obeyed, damn near willing to do anything he asked of me at the moment. Independent woman, my ass! I was dependent on this cock right now! This cock could claim me on its taxes, that’s how much I was depending on it and the pleasure it could bring.
I moaned as he guided the head of his cock through my slickness, dragging it between my folds, teasing me. Then, he pushed in. My mouth fell open in a soundless cry. My arms buckled a little as his cock filled me, inch by inch, stretching me open again like he owned this pussy. And maybe he did. Because the way my body reacted to him was out of my control.
He kept inching forward until he was fully seated in me, filling me in a way no man ever had before him. His hands gripped my hips as he began to move. Each thrust was deep, slow, and pleasurable as hell.
He stayed buried in me longer with every stroke, never pulling out much, his body close behind mine. And that’s when I realized he wasn’t pulling out at all. He was rocking into me, cock rubbing against my walls, driving me mad with lust.
“You feel that?” he asked, voice low and rough. “That’s me owning every inch of this pussy. Tell me it’s mine, Stefanie.”
“Yes...” I breathed, gripping the sheets as he rocked into me again.
“Say the words,” he ordered.
“It’s yours,” I breathed, orgasm approaching, driving away every last bit of my sanity.
“This is your punishment, baby,” he groaned. “And your reward.”
He pulled me back onto him, fucking me from behind while I held on tight to the sheets, every movement of his hips pushing me higher. The sting from the spanking still burned under the heat of his thrusts.
Pleasure on top of pain, on top of pleasure. I swear there was only so much a girl could take, and this man was pushing me to my limits. A low moan escaped me as he thrust harder, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over me.
His grip on my hips tightened as he pulled out and shoved into me again, the sound of skin slapping against skin drowning out my moans as he fucked me harder and faster. The pleasure rose, fireworks sparking all over my body.
The combination of his dominance and the raw pleasure he delivered left me utterly undone, surrendering to the intoxicating rhythm he set. My moans filled the room, his name leaving my mouth over and over.
“Julian. Julian. Julian. Fuck, Julian!”
“Mine,” he groaned as he fucked me harder.
I didn’t want him to stop. Not yet. Not ever. I was so close. So damn close. And I knew he was too. His hips bucked against me. My ass jiggled. He groaned my name and drilled me harder. I couldn’t hold back any longer.
With a cry, I came, creaming all over his cock, body shuddering, pussy clutching his cock tightly. His hands were at my shoulders now as he continued to buck into me, the wet sounds of our arousal filling the air.
He was moaning something about my pussy feeling so good, about how it belonged to him. But I was too far gone to process any of it. His body jerked, and then his cum filled me. The strength in my arms finally gave out, and I sank onto the mattress.
He followed me down, still thrusting into me as he rode the wave of pleasure. He pressed kisses to my shoulders as aftershocks rocked our still-joined bodies. My eyes were closed, chest heaving. I felt his lips against my cheek.
“Sweet, Stefanie,” he whispered. “I’m addicted. To this pussy. To your presence. I just can’t get enough of you.” His arms slid underneath my body, and he held me close.
The sane part of me had been fucked to sleep. So, there was no part of me awake to tell him that I wasn’t someone he could become addicted to. I remained silent as he trailed kisses over my cheek, neck, and shoulder.
The desire this man felt for me was beyond anything I’d ever experienced. The coffee and breakfast were long forgotten. So was the averted crisis. For now, I was letting myself be selfish. No, I wouldn’t call it selfish. I’d call it self-focused. Self-care. Self-love.
I let myself want. I let Julian Cattaneo give me everything he had. I let myself indulge in my addiction. Guilt could wait. Right now, all I cared about was how good it felt to be wanted this damn much.
After another round of filthy sex, we showered, then reheated our food and coffee and ate in bed while watching the local news. We fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms. Around two pm, Julian woke me up and told me he was returning to his hotel room to get some clothes.
He didn’t ask. He told me. I wanted to point that out, but I held my tongue. Why? Because I wanted him to return. I tried not to overthink things. He was on vacation. So was I. There was nothing wrong with us spending a little time together.
While he was gone, I washed the sheets and replaced them with a new set from the closet. I combed my hair into a high ponytail and dressed in black booty shorts and a Tupac t-shirt that read: All Eyez On Me.
When Julian returned, I was seated on the living room couch with a blanket draped over my legs, watching a movie. The first thing I noticed when I let him in was that he’d changed into a pair of light gray jogging pants, gray and black Nikes, and a dark gray t-shirt.
I swear this man could look sexy in anything. The second thing I noticed was the large black suitcase he had with him. I held in my smile. My eyes went wide when I realized he’d brought Chinese food. Yum.
I locked the door behind him and took the food from him. I headed to the kitchen while he headed to the bedroom with his suitcase. I didn’t want to mention how domestic we were behaving after having only known each other for twenty-four hours.
If I thought about it too hard, I’d start to overthink things and end up asking him to leave. So, I went with the flow, opening up the bag that contained our containers to see what he’d brought us. He’d gotten us both the same thing, and to my surprise, it was one of my favorites.
“I hope you like what I brought,” he said, entering the kitchen, shoes off.
I stared down at his socks. This man had really made himself at home. Red flag. Yet, I ignored it with my temporarily colorblind ass.
“I love what you brought us. It’s one of my favs.”
“Great,” he murmured before kissing me on my cheek.
He pulled back a chair and nodded for me to sit down. “I’ll handle this,” he told me.
Sitting down, I watched him separate the food and the drinks. He placed a pair of chopsticks on top of my container.
“I need a fork,” I told him. “I’m not good with chopsticks.”
“Want me to show you how to use them?”
“Would you?”
“I’ll do whatever you want, Stefanie Adams.”
This man. “Yes, I want to learn.”
Our laughter filled the kitchen as he tried showing me how to hold the chopsticks. It took me nearly ten minutes to put food into my mouth instead of on the table. I finally sort of got the hang of it, but I chose to eat with a fork so I wouldn’t make a mess.
We chatted as we ate. We talked about our favorite television shows and our favorite foods. We chatted about our favorite books and our favorite music. Before I knew it, the food was gone, and we were just seated at the kitchen table talking.
I felt comfortable with Julian. I felt safe. I felt respected. And I felt desired. That scared me and excited me. For the next three days, the only time my attention wasn’t on him was when my daughter called to check in, and we spent five to ten minutes chatting before she rushed off the phone to hang out with her friends.
Usually, her ending the call before I wanted to would make me feel sad. With Julian present, that sadness didn’t rear its ugly head. It was a whirlwind spring break filled with Julian cooking for me, us ordering out, us watching movies, and playing board games that the host had in their closet.
I hadn’t had so much fun in a very long time. Julian hadn’t even left yet, and I already missed him. So, on the morning he actually packed up his suitcase, I had tears in my eyes. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, but we both had to return to our regular scheduled program.
I was planning to spend the weekend and some much-needed time with my daughter. And he was going to spend time with his sister, which meant our time together was over. He stood at the front door, suitcase next to him, while I stood in front of him, clutching the hem of my t-shirt.
T-shirt and panties – that had been my attire for the past few days. I stared up at him when he placed his hand on my cheek. His thumb brushed across my cheek, slow and gentle. I leaned into the warmth without thinking, memorizing the way his touch felt before I had to let it go.
“I had a great time,” I said softly, still clutching the hem of my shirt.
“Me too. More than great.”
I gave a small smile. “But now it’s time to go back to the real world.”
“Maybe,” he murmured, eyes locked on mine. “But I don’t think the real world has to mean I never see you again.”
I blinked, surprised by how easily he said that.
“Julian...”
He stepped in just a little closer. “You don’t have to say it. I get it. But just so you know, I’m not filing this under ‘one and done.’ You were never just a spring break fling to me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t going to lie to him, and I wasn’t going to make promises I had no intention of keeping. This was a spring break fling for me. And I had no intention of seeing him past today, no matter how badly I wanted to.
“We could try to see where this goes...” he started.
“I’m not looking for anything serious,” I said carefully. “This week... it was what I needed. And I enjoyed it. I loved hanging out with you. Not just the sex. I loved being with you. But I have a life to get back to, Julian. A daughter. A job. Responsibilities.”
“I know.” He nodded. “And being with me doesn’t mean you have to let go of any of that.”
“I didn’t say that,” I told him. “I’m saying I don’t have time for a relationship.”
“Okay. What about a lover? You need that, don’t you? We all have needs. I can be your lover until you’re ready for more.”
This man. “I...”
“No one will fuck you the way I fuck you, Stefanie,” he told me, thumb trailing over my lips.
My pussy thumped, nodding in agreement. I took a step back, causing his hand to drop from my cheek. I hated the dejected look in his eyes. I despised myself for being the reason it was there.
But I’d never given him the impression that I wanted more. And if he really knew me, really understood the baggage I came with, he wouldn’t want to spend another second in my company.
“Thank you for these past few days,” I told him. “I’ll never forget them or you. I...”
“Just give me one good reason why this can’t continue,” he stated, interrupting me.
Because I said so. “Because I don’t want more.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Is that how you really feel?”
No. Yes. Maybe.
I nodded.
“Say it,” he told me.
“It’s how I really feel.”
“Say you don’t want to see me again, don’t want to ride my face again, don’t want me to bury this cock in your pussy again,” he insisted, eyes dark, intense.
I swallowed. “Julian...”
“Say you don’t enjoy talking to me, don’t enjoy me holding you while we watch television, don’t enjoy me cooking for you and taking care of you. Say it, and I’ll leave.”
“Why are you turning our last moments together into something we’ll both regret?” I asked, blinking back tears, not wanting things to end like this.
His jaw clenched. “I’m not trying to do that. I’m just trying to be a part of your world in any way that I can. And you want that, too. I can see it in your eyes. It’s my age, isn’t it?”
There was no point in lying. His age was part of the reason I couldn’t continue this.
“You’re too young for me,” I told him.
“I wasn’t too young to eat your pussy.”
“Julian!” I gasped.
He took a step forward. I held my ground, refusing to back down.
“It’s not my fault that you’re making this into something it doesn’t have to be,” I told him, holding his gaze, refusing to look away. “We had a fling. It was great. Now, it’s over. The end!” Damn!
“The end?” he whispered.
“Yes. The end.”
He chuckled and stared down at his feet for a second. When his gaze rose to mine again, it was filled with a dark determination that I hadn’t seen in his eyes before.
“If you didn’t want me, I would agree to this ending. But you do want me. And I want you. And I know we could be great together. So, this isn’t the end.”
“What...”
“I’m not letting you go, Stefanie. And I’m not letting you let go of me either.”
This man! “Julian, you don’t get to decide...”
“To be continued,” he whispered before leaning down and kissing my forehead. “Goodbye, for now, sweet Stefanie.”
“Wait, Julian.”
But he didn’t turn around. He rolled his little suitcase out the door and to his car. And like a fool, I stood there staring after him. Whether he accepted it or not, this was the end. An end I wished had gone smoother.
But he’d made things tense and awkward for no reason at all. I stayed in the doorway until he backed out of the parking space and drove away. He was gone now. An emptiness settled over me that hadn’t been there before.
“Goodbye, Julian,” I whispered before closing the door.
I leaned against it, letting the quiet settle around me. It was over. My spring fling had come to an end. I told myself that’s what I wanted. So why did it feel like something just ended that I wasn’t ready to let go of?