Chapter 31
chapter thirty-one
Summer
My ex-husband made me believe I was a troll. He would force me to do things I wasn’t comfortable with in the bedroom, and I did it because I wanted him to love me. I wanted to be his dream girl.
I genuinely looked into plastic surgery after I found out he’d cheated on me. I even booked a consultation with a well-known surgeon in LA.
I went to the appointment. I told them I wanted a nose job, a chin implant, Botox, lip filler, a boob job, and whatever else they could finance me for. The nurse looked horrified when I started listing so many things off at once.
I remember the surgeon sitting me down and telling me, “There’s nothing wrong with altering your body surgically, if it’s for the right reasons. Did you happen to get cheated on or dumped recently?”
Thankfully, I was honest and told them my reasons were due to the harsh PTSD of getting cheated on by someone who I’d thought was my forever person, who I loved with all my heart. They sent me home and told me to come back in six months if I still wanted the work done.
It was actually the nurse in that doctor’s office who had told me to try pole-dancing lessons to gain my confidence back. I signed up for classes that same day and took them for five months.
I’d never hated my body or my face before then. My mother was a very loving and uplifting woman. She would always tell me that I was beautiful and that any girls who were mean to me were just jealous.
Standing here now, about to pole dance for an audience of one, feels like a monumental moment of retribution.
I don’t know if I’m doing this more for him or for me, but all I know is that I feel so damn powerful. I know I look good, and judging by the clear bulge in his pants, he’s already affected as fuck, just by seeing me in the lingerie he picked out.
I love knowing he picked it out, just for me to wear.
I’m a little rusty, so I start with a few easy moves. It feels incredible when I finally lift up off the floor and twist myself around the pole. The music fuels my movements, making me feel erotic and sensual.
I twist my body around, twirling until I’m panting. I’ve always been flexible, and I grew up doing competitive dance in California. I flip my body upside down, spreading my legs so that I’m in a full split.
After a few minutes, I hear him rise from the bed. I watch his dark shape moving toward me. My belly tickles, and I finally flip back up. He stops a few feet away, watching me slide back around the pole until my feet hit the ground.
I’m panting softly, and a thin sheen of sweat is covering my skin. I finally look up at him, wetting my lips.
He’s gazing at me like I just did something far more impressive than a simple pole dance with a split at the end. His chest is moving up and down, like he’s struggling to breathe. His fingers move first, reaching for the hem of the lace.
I hold my breath as his touch trails over my thighs, reaching around to the back to grip my ass cheeks. He squeezes hard, his erection poking my stomach.
I don’t know how I ended up here, in Dayton’s penthouse. I swore I wouldn’t give in to him. Now he’s exploring my body with his touch and sending shivers up my spine.
“You’re the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, wrapping his whole mouth around my shoulder and biting me, softly at first and then harder. “I want to taste every inch of your skin.”
I wanted to talk first. I promised myself we would talk. But then I got here, he poured the wine and started the music, and now all I want is to feel him inside me. I’m on my period, so I doubt he’s going to want to mess with that.
I want to go down on him.
I want to keep the power trip I’m on going.
I drop to my knees, grabbing his waistband as I go. As soon as his cock springs free, I wrap my hands around the base and suck the tip between my lips.
He groans above me, reaching for the pole to steady himself.
I pump my lips over him several times, coating his length with my saliva.
His dick is the perfect size and shape, filling me to the brim each time I suck him in.
I choke when he’s too far in, his head pushing against the back of my throat.
He grips my hair, guiding me over him.
“I’ve pictured you like this, right here, so many times,” he confesses.
I moan around him, sucking on him harder. He grips my roots, pulling me back. My lips pop off with a smacking sound.
“I need inside you—now.”
He jerks me up roughly, gripping under my legs and lifting me into the air.
“I’m on my period,” I blurt out.
I wrap my arms around his neck until he tosses me on the bed. He removes his sweatpants, hungry eyes on every inch of my skin.
He kneels down in front of me, pushing my thong to the side. I clap my hand over my mouth when I feel him pull my tampon out. He stands, disappearing into the bathroom and coming back with a black towel. He lays it on the bed beneath me. He’s still rock hard, my saliva coating his dick.
He wastes no time positioning himself in front of my entrance. He pulls the thong to the side and swipes the head over my slick opening once before plunging deep inside me with one thrust.
I gasp, my hands desperately finding his shoulders to hold on to. He immediately starts pounding into me.
“You have no idea how many ways I’ve pictured taking your body. For years, I’ve imagined this. There’s not a position on this planet I haven’t thought about twisting you into.” He grabs my leg, pushing my knee up until it’s pressed to my chest.
His eyes are intense on my face. He presses down into me, kissing my forehead.
“The real thing is so much hotter. You feel so warm and tight and fucking perfect. That pussy is perfect for me.”
I wasn’t prepared for filthy-talking Dayton tonight. He just watched me do something I’d never done for a man, and apparently, he loved it.
“I never imagined this would happen until … I had a dream about it.”
He slides inside me slowly, making my eyes roll back in my head with how good it feels. He pulls back leisurely before repeating the movement. He lifts his thumb to his lips and licks it.
“When did you dream about it?”
“The first night you stayed over.” I sigh, opening my eyes to stare into his.
His hand moves down between us to circle around my clit. Stars spin around my head.
“Dayton … Dayton … feels so good.”
He leans closer, brushing his lips against my ear. “I’ve been dreaming about this for thirteen years.”
My eyes widen, but instead of pausing to give me a chance to process his statement, he starts drilling into me ruthlessly. Suddenly, he stops, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and lifting me up.
He walks over to the wall like I’m weightless, pressing my back up against the drywall. His arms are supporting my weight, and he starts pounding into me again.
His tongue is exploring the space below my ear. I’m getting closer to an orgasm with each brush of his lips. His thrusts are hitting the sweet spot inside me, causing delicious friction against my clit. I thread my hands through his hair, never feeling sexier than I do right now.
“It’s always been you. Always,” he whispers, warm breath against my ear.
My orgasm explodes inside me, fireworks erupting in my body.
I scream his name, unable to hold myself back.
My body clenches around him, muscles spasming.
The sensations ripple through me, the pleasure coating my skin and warming me from the inside out. He holds on to me, hips still pistoning into mine for a few more seconds until he slows, jerking as his warm cum fills me.
I’m weak, barely capable of lifting my head. He moves us over to the bed, falling onto his back. I start to lift off of him.
“Leave it in,” he begs, “just for a minute.”
I relax on top of him, letting myself get comfortable. He’s a big boy. He can handle my full body weight. I close my eyes, sighing contentedly and feeling completely safe and taken care of for the first time in a long time.
I don’t know how much time passes before Dayton is moving underneath me and gently rolling my body off of his. His dick has gone soft inside me, so he pulls it out.
“You want to shower, baby?” he whispers.
I’ve never known this gentle side of him. He brushes my hair off my forehead and pulls a blanket over my naked body before stepping off the bed.
I crack my eyes open and watch him go into the bathroom. He leaves the door cracked—an invitation.
A few seconds later, I hear the shower turn on. I desperately need to pee, but I’m so relaxed that I don’t feel like moving.
But Dayton is naked in the shower right now.
That thought rouses me. I climb out of bed, wrapping the soft red blanket around my shoulders that Dayton covered me with. I push the door to the bathroom open.
It’s massive, with two double sinks and ten feet of marble countertop between them. I drop the blanket and step into the toilet room to relieve myself before walking back out.
The shower is at the end, big enough for six people to fit inside. It has four showerheads—two rainfall ones coming from the ceiling and two poking out of the walls.
Dayton has them all on. He’s standing behind the wall of glass, his hand pressed to the gray tiles, his shoulders tense.
He steps under the spray of the water, rubbing his hands over his hair as the water cascades down his rippling back muscles. I lick my lips and pull open the door, stepping into the steamy shower with him. He’s perfectly still, aside from the gentle movement of each breath.
When I step under the spray on the opposite wall a few feet away from him, he turns. I let the water wash over me, surprised at how much blood swirls down the drain.
“Did that gross you out?”
He shakes his head. “You could never gross me out.”
I never thought Dayton was disgusted by me, but I did think he despised me. Now I don’t know what to think.
“A lot of things do though. With my OCD, I have a hard time not feeling repulsed until I do something, like wash my hands or change my clothes after a workout. When it comes to you, I … I’m disgusted with myself for wanting you so badly.
I’ve done so many things, thought about you in ways I know I shouldn’t have. ”
I’m still getting used to this, to someone who is turned on by everything about me, even when my period blood is washing down the drain from his side of the shower too. Andrew and Axel both wouldn’t touch me during my time of the month. It was a blow job or nothing.
My throat bobs. I grab the shampoo and pour it into my hand. He watches me lather it in my hair.
“I knew you had it, but I never really thought it was anything that affected your daily life. Russell always said you handled it well.”
He takes the shampoo from me, his mouth in a line. He squirts it into his hand and starts lathering it into his hair.
“He wanted me to fight it, to not give in to the compulsions. I do, mostly. Some urges are harder than others to ignore.”
His eyes trail over my wet body. His dick starts hardening again.
My breath catches. He means me.
“How long has this … how long have you thought about me like this?”
“I’ve been dreaming about this for over ten years.”
“It’s always been you. Always.”
His whispered words filter through my mind.
He rinses his hair. I do the same, my stomach feeling heavy. I grab the conditioner and thread it through the ends of my hair. He uses it, too, his eyes roaming from the floor to the wall, clearly avoiding me.
I start to think he’s not going to answer me when, finally, he grabs the bottle of body wash and pumps it twice.
My breath catches when he kneels in front of me and starts rubbing the soap over my calves, moving up my leg slowly.
“I’ve wanted you since the day you and Clara moved in with us.
” His eyes are focused between my legs, where he leisurely washes away any remnants of blood.
“I’ll never forgive myself for treating you the way I did.
For ruining your prom, for threatening all the guys to make them stay away from you.
I knew I could never have you, but I couldn’t take watching you with anyone else. It was … childish.”
I don’t know what to make of this confession.
Dayton has always wanted me.
I moved away and married an abusive prick while this man was here, pining over me.
He’s traveling up my body with the soap, cleaning every part of me. When he reaches my breasts, he spends extra time, and I can clearly see that he’s hard, but he doesn’t seem to be initiating sex. He just likes touching me.
I let him finish before rinsing off. He washes himself, and we both step out.
He hands me a towel. I dry my hair and body off while he goes into his closet, returning with a green T-shirt that he hands to me.
I pull it over my head, chewing on my bottom lip while watching him put on a loose pair of gym shorts.
His eyes meet mine, and he reaches for my hand. “Are you hungry or anything?”
I shake my head. “Tired.”
We brush our teeth in silence, and I’m struck by how oddly comfortable I feel with him, doing these mundane, everyday grooming tasks.
He pulls me behind him into the bedroom. I quickly grab a pad from my bag and put it on in the bathroom before climbing into bed with him. Despite my efforts to stick to my side, he pulls me up against his chest.
“Go to sleep.” He kisses my cheek, tucking the blanket around my chin.
“Before I do, I have a request.”
“Anything.”
“I have one final house design change.”
“How much is this one gonna cost?” He sighs.
“It’s just a little bit of a tweak to the back deck. I think we should add an outdoor kitchen. Like a small one, with a mini fridge, a countertop, a sink, and a flat-top grill. Imagine sitting out there and grilling burgers while your kids run around on the beach at sunset.”
He pauses. He must be actually picturing it. Finally, he answers, his words a low rumble against the top of my spine, “That would be pretty spectacular.”
“Perfect. I’ll let Javier know. The painters are done, and the flooring guys will be there tomorrow. So, we’ve only got two to three weeks left, minus the outdoor kitchen. I think we should go ahead and have Mr. Akana give us an estimate on the listing price.”
“So, you want to sell it now?” he asks.
“I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“That’s what I want, yes. But you’re pretty persuasive when you want to be.”
“Hmm, I’m too tired to keep talking about it tonight. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”
“Sweet dreams, baby. Go to sleep.”
I don’t fight it, letting myself drift off to the steady rhythm of his breathing.