18. Paige
Over the past week, Romeo and Tango have fully settled in at Damiano’s place. Romeo’s made himself completely at home, like this is his forest. And last night, as I watched Tango burrow into the dirt in the big planter, I realized he’s ready to be released.
Now, I’m sitting on Damiano’s silky carpet, giving Tango his evening kale-and-apple snack. Romeo was here a few minutes ago but abandoned his dish of carrot sticks to follow Damiano into the bedroom. That rabbit is obsessed.
Black combat boots appear next to me. Damiano reaches down and strokes my hair. My eyes slowly peruse upward. Black cargo pants snug on his thick, muscular thighs. A black T-shirt snug across his chest, hugging his tight abs. A brown leather holster vest looping his muscular arms, his huge knife clipped to his belt. Hot damn, this man wears clothes like an action movie star. I can’t blame Romeo for following him around.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“I’ve got to go to work, angel.”
“No suit?”
“Not tonight.” He walks over to a cabinet, uses his thumbprint to unlock it. He pulls out two guns, sliding each into a separate holster pocket. “I’m going to figure out who’s setting me up.”
“How are you going to do that?”
Dom looks at me for a long minute without answering, then turns away. “I’m going to ask some people what they know.” He closes and relocks the cabinet.
“And they’re just going to tell you?”
“I have excellent people skills.”
I smile. “Do you though?”
He smiles down at me.
I stand up, then hand him Tango. “Give me two minutes.”
“Two minutes for what?”
“To change. Can you put Tango in the planter?” Romeo is doing excellent with his housebreaking, but it’s not even an option with Tango, so into the planter he must go.
I head into Dom’s bedroom closet. He cleared out a few drawers and some hanger space for all the clothes he bought me. I hate how much he spent, but I’m completely in love with the stuff.
Black clothes defy my California sunshine daydream roots. But navy should be close enough. I pull on leggings and a shirt Dom bought me. The shirt is fitted and has a boat neckline and three-quarter sleeves, and I swear I feel like Jackie O. Or Holly Golightly.
Maybe I need big sunglasses to top this off?
I look over my shoulder.
Damiano’s leaning against the bedroom door jam, watching me get dressed. Smiling. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I lean into the mirror to put on clear lip gloss. In the reflection, I catch him staring at my ass. “I’m going with you.”
His eyes flick up to mine. “No, you’re not.” Then go back to my ass.
“Of course I am. I actually do have good people skills. People will tell me what you need to know.” I go to pass him to get my shoes from the foyer, but Dom’s thick arms wrap around me, pulling me against his big, warm body. He smells fantastic, wearing the Drakkar I saw on the shelf in his closet.
“You can’t come, Paige.”
“You have no idea how good I am at convincing people to do stuff. Gina calls it my superpower. You need people to talk, they’ll talk to me.” I reach up and stroke the velvety back of his head.
“Superpower, huh?”
I press into him, loving how his body feels against mine. “Just you wait until I use it on you.”
“Angel, I’ll already give you anything you want.”
“See? It’s working. And right now, what I want is to come with you.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Remember how good I was driving here?”
“You were fantastic, but the answer is still no.” He kisses my neck. “How about I go work for a few hours, and when I get back, you let me work my superpowers on you?” His hand slides under my shirt, up my tummy. He pushes my bra up and out of the way to cup the girls, brushing his thumbs across my nips.
This man works my body like a magician.
“Are you just trying to distract me?”
He twists my nip like a radio dial. “Is it working?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Give me a few hours. Drink some wine, take a bath, be in nothing but my bathrobe when I get back, yeah?”
I can’t quite form words at the moment, with him squeezing my nip and his big hard stallion pressing against me, surrounding me with his warm breath and nibbles on my neck. I sort of nod.
“You make it hard to leave, angel.”
The second I hear the elevator ping down the hallway, I grab the keys to Jolene and a knife from the entire drawer full of folding knives, throwing knives, butterfly knives, and hunting knives Damiano has in his kitchen. I tiptoe out the door behind him.
I’m going to take the stairs down to the garage and wait until he pulls out, then I’ll hang back half a block behind him. Hanging back like the Suburbans did when they were following us the other day. And then when we get to wherever he’s going, he’ll have to accept my help.
He has no idea how good I can be at interrogating someone. People love talking to me. Complete strangers on the bus tell me their life stories. The other day, an eighty-year-old lady was telling me that she got chlamydia from a retired history teacher named Walter who was sleeping with half the ladies in their retirement community.
The stairwell door requires a hard push to get it open. I put enough shoulder into it that it swings open, and I spill into the stairwell, my hair falling into my face. I push it back with a giggle.
“You lost, little girl?”
Jesus fucking Christ. I jump a mile high, and my heart literally stops beating.
I cover my face with both hands but quickly realize that’s the wrong reaction to being surprised in a random stairwell. I play it off by pulling my hair up into a ponytail, using the elastic that lives on my wrist.
Damiano is leaning against the stairwell wall, arms crossed against his wide chest. Watching me.
“Oh. Hi. What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
“Uh. . . oh, taking a walk. Getting some fresh air? You know.”
“You need a weapon for that?” He motions to the outline of a knife in the long pocket of my leggings. Of course he noticed that.
I nod. “Totally.”
He pushes off the wall and steps toward me. “You weren’t planning on following me, were you?”
“Me? Follow you?”
He nods.
“Uh, no. Wait, are you following me ?” I fold my arms to mimic his stance. “Really, Damiano. I’d expect more from you.”
“Angel. Are you being naughty?”
“No.”
He steps toward me. Dressed in all black, Damiano’s menacing as fuck. But the way he licks his lips, he’s sexy as hell.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes?” I bite on the tip of my finger.
He cups my chin, tilts my face up toward him. It’s an exciting mix of tender and assertive. “Naughty girls get tied up and spanked.”
“Oh.” Umm. . . I’ve never been tied up or spanked before. “Are you being serious?”
“Am I being serious about tying you to my bed so you can’t follow me out on a mission? Abso-fucking-lutely. That’s happening, Paige.” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, tugging it. “Am I being serious about spanking you for being a brat? That one’s up to you.”
I might like getting spanked, so I’m thinking maybe? “Naughty girls get spanked?”
He nods, licks his bottom lip, his deep green eyes sparkling. He totally wants this. I do, too.
“Okay, fine. I was following you to work. I completely disobeyed your crystal-clear instructions.” And here’s the biggie to drive Damiano fully over the edge, “and I was going to put myself in grave danger .”
Dom’s nostrils flare as he inhales a deep breath. “Oh, angel. I’m going to have to teach you a very important lesson, one you’ll remember every time you sit down for a week.” Dom throws me over his shoulder and yanks open the stairwell door, marching us back into his apartment.
I guess his work can wait.
“Don’t I need a safe word?”
“No.” Damiano’s straddling me. He’s still fully dressed in his all-black combat outfit, his T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, showing the peaks of his tight nipples. He stripped off my clothes as soon as he flopped me onto the bed.
He lifts my right arm above my head, wraps a rope around my wrist and snugs the knot tight. He loops it around the center of his headboard, then pulls the slack out.
“But you’re tying me up.”
“I am.” Dom picks up my left arm, kisses the inside of my wrist, then ties the other end of the rope just as snug as the first.
“So shouldn’t I have a safe word?” I tug against the ropes, testing out how restrained I am. My arms can move side to side, but not very far, but I can’t pull them down.
“You don’t need one.”
“Maybe I do? Just in case?”
Dom slides his hand down the underside of my arm, slightly more pressure than a tickle. He reaches down and tugs on my right nipple, twisting it slowly, not letting go. He’s in no hurry here. “Do you want a safe word, Paige?”
I nod. I do. I really do.
“What do you want it to be?”
I try to hide my smile. “You’re the boss. You choose.”
“Fine. Apricot.” He grabs onto my other nipple, twisting both of them slowly, looking down at the girls from above me.
“Apricot?”
“Apricot. But you’re not going to use it. You’re going to take everything I give you.” He checks the ropes, making sure my wrists are snug.
My body is on edge, like a live wire. I’m on the verge of giggling, not because this is funny, but because I have no clue how to control myself right now.
“Say, ‘yes, Damiano, I’ll be a good girl and take everything you give me.’”
“Yes, Damiano.” I pause, fighting back a giggle. “I’ll be a good girl and take—” I bury my face in my arm to hide my nervous laughing. I can’t help it.
“Oh, this is funny to you?” Dom raises an eyebrow, questioning me. “Alright.” He climbs off me to kneel by my side. With one hand, he grabs my hip and flips me over, forcing me face down on the mattress. He traces down my spine with his finger, rubs a circle on my bare ass cheek.
Now I’m giggling uncontrollably. “I’m sorry, I’ll st—”
Thwack!
Oh god. I pull away from him instinctively.
Holy hell, that hurt.
“This still funny?”
“No.” My ass stings where his hand connected. The area around it tingles.
But I think I liked it. I think I liked it a lot. I tentatively push my ass up toward him for another.
Dom inhales. “Now, about your behavior. Promise you won’t try to follow me to work again.”
“You should take me with you. I can be help—”
Thwack! Thwack!
“Dom!”
He grabs high on my thigh and pulls my right leg wide toward him, spreading my legs apart. He slides his fingers down to my kitty, cupping me and giving it two light taps. “Say it.”
I try to push into his hand. I need more.
“Say it, Paige.”
“Hear me out, I—”
Thwack! Thwack!
He smacked my kitty. Twice. And hard. What the hell?
“Okay, okay. I won’t follow you again. I promise.”
“Good girl.” He slips his hand lower and rubs my throbbing clit, I press into it. “Whose job is it to keep you safe?” His deep voice is calm. How is he so calm?
“We can keep each other—”
Thwack! Thwack!
“Dom!” I pull my legs closed.
He lets out a sigh. “Not sure which I like spanking more, angel—your ass with my cherry handprint glowing red or your warm, wet figa. Keep being bratty so I can find out.”
“Dom,” I whine. I’m so ridiculously needy right now, and with my hands tied, I can’t do anything about it.
He rubs a circle on my burning hot ass, then slides down and rubs a circle on my kitty. “Whose job is it to keep you safe?”
I hesitate because I truly believe we can keep each other safe.
Thwack!
Okay, I’m caving. My ass is on prickly fire. “You. You. It’s your job to keep me safe.”
“Good girl.” He rubs my little kitty. “Now, whose job is it to keep me warm?”
I smile into the pillow. “Mine.”
He squeezes my thigh, his fingers digging in. “And whose job is it to spread these luscious thighs wide open for me?” Dom nudges my legs further apart. “Wider, angel. Come on, as far as they go.”
I’m stretched as far as possible.
“Don’t move.” He climbs off the bed and leaves the room.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
I pull against the ropes. There’s no way he’d leave me here tied up and dying for some relief while he goes off to work. Yes, it would stop me from following him, but no way he’d leave me like this for hours.
I’m about to shout my safe word. I’m—
“Relax, angel.” I turn my head to see him leaning against the doorway, staring between my spread-eagle legs. He’s holding a glass of water, swirling it. The clinking ice cubes are the only sound in the room. “No way I could leave like this ,” he reaches down and squeezes the tip of his erection bulging in his pants, “with you lying there like that .”
I let out a breath of relief now that he’s back. I lick my lips as he walks toward me with his pants outlining his huge bulge. He places the glass on the bedside table, then unzips his pants.
He climbs onto the bed, kneeling next to my head. “Stick out your tongue.” He guides his giant dick to me, rubbing it around my lips like lip gloss.
Dom hasn’t let me suck his dick yet. Every time I’ve moved in that direction, he’s grabbed my hips and pulled me onto his face instead.
I take a deep breath, inhaling him. I love his smell. Musky and a little sweet, like we’re in a warm, tropical cave. I stick out my tongue and lick him.
I lean forward as much as I can to take more of him, but he pulls back.
“Uh-uh. Naughty girls don’t get to suck big, fat cocks.” He pulls further away. “Stick out your tongue and leave it out.”
I whine. I actually whine, but do as he says.
“Lick, but do not take it in your mouth.”
I lap at him, at every angle I can manage. I shimmy forward so I can get up onto my forearms in a lazy plank. I could take him deeper from this angle. I’m thinking about it. I look up at him—he’s staring at my mouth, watching.
I’ve never been all that into giving blow jobs. Just one of those things you do for a minute or two and wait until it’s over. But this dick? I want it so bad. I want his hands wrapped around my head, pulling me deep onto him. I want to make his eyes roll into the back of his head, to give him all the pleasure he gives me every day.
I suckle at the tip, then open wide, hoping he accepts the invitation.
I lean slightly forward, my eyes locked on his. Seems like he’s not going to stop me. I—
Thwack! Thwack! He reaches lower to my pussy. Thwack!
I’m so turned on, I start rubbing myself against his bed. I need the friction. Lying prone like this with my hands tied up, it’s hard to get pressure where I need it. I buck my hips up to give him a hint. “Please, Damiano. Please .”
“Poor baby, are you being needy?” He pushes down on my lower back, holding me still and stopping me from trying to get the friction I’m dying for.
“Yes.” My voice hitches. “ Please , Dom.”
“Should have thought about that before putting yourself in danger. Naughty girls don’t get to come.”
What?
No.
No, no, no, no. “But, Dom, I—”
He’s teasing his fingers near my slit. “They get spanked.” Thwack! “But they don’t get to come.”
I groan as I try to pull against the ropes.
“What about good girls?”
He hums with approval as he reaches over and fishes an ice cube out of his glass. “Good girls get stuffed full of cock until they can’t take it anymore.” He swirls the ice cube on my burning hot ass, which feels fantastic, an icy cool stream of water dripping down, tickling my thirsty kitty. “Good girls get all the good things.”
“I promise to be good. I swear, Dom. I really, really need to be good for you.”
“Maybe you’re lying?”
I probably am. And I still might follow him after. But right now, all that matters is that he gives me what I need before I lose my mind. “Please. I promise not to follow you. I promise to listen when you tell me to stay here. I promise to do whatever you say.”
He shifts to a push-up position with his entire body over mine, the heat of his chest scorching my back. He lowers himself so half his weight is on me, the other half on his forearms that are pinned on either side of my head. He leans down close to my ear, sweet breath sending chills down my spine.
“Promise me for real, Paige. Promise me you’ll let me keep you safe.” He nibbles my ear.
The fat head of his dick nudges against my sloppy wet lips. I’m completely engulfed in him, surrounded by his hard, delicious body.
I try to shimmy backward for more contact, but I’m locked in place. “I promise. For real. You can keep me sa—”
Dom slides in hard and deep. His cargo pants are barely pulled down, the stiff cotton and cool metal belt buckle rough against my sore ass. His forearms frame my forearms as he rocks into me. Each thrust forces a breath of air out of me, making me pant out loud.
Dom’s grunts get louder as he goes harder.
“I need you, baby. I need you so bad.” He’s whispering in my ear. “I need you safe and I need you to take everything I give you.” He thrusts in even deeper. Deeper than he’s ever been. He reaches one arm under me, rubbing my clit between two fingers.
The backs of my thighs tense up, my toes point, every part of me clenches tight.
“Fuck, baby.” Damiano grinds a slow circle deep inside me. “I can feel you pulsing around me.”
My whole world shatters. I moan his name, long and loud, as my insides explode brighter and hotter and flashing whiter than ever before.
“Fucking hell, angel. Here. . . I. . . go . . .”
Dom holds me close as we both catch our breath. Then he crawls down my body, leaving a trail of kisses down my back. He nips my sore ass cheek hard before climbing off, but I’m too orgasm-drunk to complain.
I roll onto my back, watching him. Waiting for him to untie me.
He pulls his pants back up and tucks himself in, re-buckles his belt. He pulls his shirt up and off, tosses it into his laundry basket, and grabs a new one from the closet.
Redressed, he squats next to the bed, reaching under it.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you set up.”
“Set up for what?” I sit back on my elbows now.
“See this?” He holds up one of his knives.
I nod. I can’t remember if this one has a name. It’s nowhere near as scary as Bianca, so it probably doesn’t.
“This is for you.” He places the knife in my hand.
“Okay. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Cut the rope. Untie yourself.”
“You do it. Just use Bianca.”
“Naah, baby. This buys me a three-minute head start. That’s how long it should take you to cut through that rope. By then, I’ll be long gone, so no point in trying to follow me.”
“Just untie me. I said I wouldn’t follow you.”
“You did. But did you mean it?”
I look away. It’s entirely possible that I did not.
“Don’t leave me tied up if you’re leaving.”
“Three minutes. That’s all it’ll take you. You’ve got this.” He leans down and kisses my forehead while he twists my right nipple.
Then he walks out of the room.
“Dom?” I hear the front door open and close. “Apricot, Damiano. Apricot!”