Chapter 15 #2
He bent close, his mouth at my ear. “Always. . .I’ll feed you pleasure like medicine. One pulse at a time. And when you break, you’ll thank your doctor for making you a beautiful, filthy whore. Won’t you, Mommy?”
“Y-yes.”
“Are you going to be good next time, Mommy?”
“Yes, baby.”
“When I tell you to come back down and let me eat that sweet pussy, what are you going to do?”
“I’m not going to walk, I’m going to run down.”
He smirked. “Running might make you fall.”
“I don’t care. I wouldn’t want you to wait.”
“Hmmm.” This wicked lust covered his face as he returned to his steady rhythm of teasing and denial, the intensity of each cycle climbing higher and higher, like a never-ending staircase.
The lack of release was both cruel and enthralling, yanking me further and further from the reality of the shower, the bathroom, the world outside.
I felt as though I existed solely in this space he'd created, this wickedly erotic space where the only constant was the relentless throb between my thighs.
In fact, the pressure became unbearable. Waves of pleasure crashed against me, making my knees buckle, and my moans turned into high-pitched whimpers. They bounced off the walls, filling the steamy bathroom with my need.
“Oh. Oh. Oh.”
“Cum for me, Mommy.” He watched with cruel fascination. “Show me how you sound when a strong orgasm hits you.”
“Oh! Oh!”
Dominic adjusted the toy again, eliciting a sharp gasp from me.
My body jerked involuntarily, reacting to the merciless pleasure he inflicted.
Tension coiled tighter within my body, threatening to snap at any moment. The slick sounds of the toy against my needy pussy were achingly loud over the shower spray.
"Does this feel good, Mommy?"
“Fuck yes.” And then right before the orgasm was about to hit me, he took it away.
So pissed, I glared at him. “Damn it!”
My hips betrayed my delirious hunger and tilted forward, slipping into a slow, shameful roll against nothing.
“Stop it, Dominic. You told me to cum for you. Now let me.”
He watched my pussy bucking against nothing and groaned. “No. Stay still.”
“I can’t help it.”
He licked his lips and put the toy back on my clit. “You’re making me even more jealous when you move. Stay still.”
I couldn’t.
I pressed my pussy closer, desperate for the vibration to hit deeper, harder.
Then, without warning, he snatched the toy back an inch, and the loss of it was so sharp I gasped. “Dominic!”
My knees buckled.
He held me up. “You think I came up here to give you what you want? No. I came up here to teach you what happens when you try to cum without me.”
I tried to appear innocent. “But I think I learned my lesson now. Jesus Christ! I already told you I would run back down. I think you’ve punished me enough.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps, you have learned your lesson.” He brought the rose back.
“Oh!” My breath broke into pieces. “Oh! That feels so good, baby!”
“You like this, Mommy?”
“Yes.”
“You’re such a Good Boy.” My body trembled. “Oh. Oh.”
I sagged against the tile with a gasp.
And then finally—after all the denial, all the hovering, all the pulling away—he pressed the toy down and worked my pussy straight into my orgasm.
“OHHH!!!”
It tore out of me, jagged and helpless. My body convulsed so hard I nearly slid down the slick tile, every nerve ending detonating in a chain reaction I couldn’t control.
My thighs clamped and shuddered.
My belly tightened into a sharp knot, then unraveled in wild, pulsing waves.
My scream broke into a sob.
My whole body lit up like fireworks exploding too close to the skin—white heat, violent color, sparks running down my legs and up my spine until my teeth ached from clenching.
The world disappeared.
Steam blurred.
Water vanished.
There was only the vibration, his grip, and the brutal sweetness of release slamming through me again and again until I was wrung out, trembling, drenched in delirium.
“OHHHHH!!!!”
He held me up with those strong muscular arms as the aftershocks ripped through my belly and spread like fire under my skin. It was all a brutal flood of remaining pleasure that stole the air from my lungs.
I gasped.
Then, I sobbed against him, unaware of why. . .
Still, Dominic’s arms held me up, and his chest was a wet wall against me. “That’s it, Mommy. That’s it. Release it all. You’re too perfect too hold it all in.”
The praise cracked me deeper.
More tears left my eyes as I sagged into him, body limp and wet, thighs still twitching from even more aftershocks. My clit was now super sensitive.
Oh my God. . .
I had never come this hard in my life.
And all I could think about was that. . .I had really needed this release.
Not just today.
Not just this week.
But all year.
My body had been wound so tight it was like I had been carrying a scream inside my skin, one that no one had ever heard.
A scream Scott never cared to notice.
A scream the world kept telling me to swallow down and cover with a smile.
But here, in Dominic’s arms, I wasn’t choking it back anymore.
Here, I was allowed to break.
To shake.
To come apart in a way that wasn’t ugly or shameful, but holy.
And every rugged tremor through my body was proof that I wasn’t ruined in the most breathtaking ways. Proof that I could still feel fire and tenderness, even after being dragged through so much cold.
With Dominic, I wasn’t just cumming—I was reclaiming myself.
Piece by piece.
Moan by moan.
Pulse by pulse.
And when the aftershocks finally slowed, leaving me weak and shivering in his hold, what startled me most wasn’t the orgasm. It was the quiet peace after—the sense that for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t braced for the next blow.
The storm inside me had eased.
The knots that Scott and the world had left behind had loosened.
Fuck. . .even my nervous system felt rewired and renewed.
I felt. . .healed.
Maybe not whole.
But close.
And that was enough to make me cling tighter to Dominic, because no one had ever given me that before.
“Silly, Mommy,” he whispered against my ear. “Didn’t that feel good?”
“I-it. . .did. . .” I still couldn’t hold myself up, but he had me in his huge muscular arms.
“Don’t ever run from my giving you pleasure again. You deserve it. You’re a good mother. You’re an amazing woman. When I want to eat your pussy until you scream, you take it. And not because it’s me, but because you are my queen and you are worthy.”
I closed my eyes and trembled.
Fuck. . .he’s perfect. How did I get him? God. . .did you do this?
I truly needed him, and it scared me.
Because need was dangerous.
Need meant full surrender.
Need meant I couldn’t keep performing the little act I’d been perfecting for years—the strong, unbothered hardworking Black woman who didn’t want for anything she couldn’t give herself.
For so long since he arrived in my life, I’d told myself the distance between us was logical. That keeping a wall up, holding myself back, was smart, measured, self-preservation.
That I was protecting my kids, my heart, my sanity.
I’d convinced myself that the trembling in my stomach whenever I thought of him was a warning, not a hunger.
But standing there, trembling and undone, I could feel the truth crawling up my spine and settling in my chest like a confession: It had never been logic.
It had always been fear.
Fear of being seen the way he saw me now—stripped, vulnerable, every flaw illuminated and worshipped.
Fear of letting someone hold the part of me that had been bruised and discarded so many times before.
Fear of what it would mean if I stopped running, when all I was used to was running.
Need meant I couldn’t pretend anymore.
Couldn’t pretend this was just sex, just release, just a fling.
Need meant I was already his, whether I admitted it out loud or not.
Oh God. . .this is really why I didn’t go back downstairs. . .
My chest ached, my throat grew tight with something deeper, scarier, and more precious.
It was the rise of new love.
I’m here again. Can my broken heart take this?
My body felt alive in his arms, but my heart was shaking, whispering words I wasn’t ready to say.
How am I going to make this work?
Because I didn’t just want him for tonight, or for the high, or for the fantasy.
I wanted him in my life.
In my mornings.
In my chaos.
In the small, ordinary places where the world had once felt empty.
I wanted him. . .forever.
The word pulsed through me like another heartbeat.
Forever.