Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
HADLEY
I arrive at Rafter’s Falls at five-thirty.
I closed the garage early and gave the boys a couple hours off so I could get here before Dottie.
After seeing Kerry-Anne, who ultimately ruined my fucking day, I set the evening in motion so Dottie and I could be alone and not have to worry about anyone dropping by.
Bringing my luggage up the stairs, I open the door and wheel it off to the side, before walking around the hotel room to make sure my requests were fulfilled. I’ve never done this before, been romantic , but she has changed me in such a short amount of time, and that scares me.
Once I’m satisfied, I walk back to the kitchen and make sure the wine is chilled and the whiskey, too.
Instead of going out for dinner, I decided I’d cook for her.
This way we don’t have to leave the room, and we don’t have to worry about anyone spotting us.
Although, the chance is rare, it’s not impossible, and I won’t risk Arrie finding out about us until I’m certain this is a forever thing for her.
Goddamn it. Forever. Am I ready ?
I don’t even have to answer that question, but it does frighten me how quickly I’ve fallen for my Blossom.
I should feel sick, grossed out for the feelings I harbor toward her, but those feelings have only manifested recently.
I never saw her as anything but my niece while she was growing up, if anything, I felt like I had to protect her, and I guess I had to an extent.
And I know other people looking in won’t see it how I see it, or even how she might, but I’m done playing the nice guy and pleasing everyone else. Like my pops always said, fuck everyone else, you must be happy with yourself before you can make anyone else happy, and I’m finally there.
I smile at the memory of him, wishing I could go back in time and speak to him once more, ask him for guidance, but I can’t. He’s gone and it’s my fault because I couldn’t get to him in time. I shake the dreaded memory away and focus on what I can control now.
Grabbing the ingredients from the fridge, I line them up on the counter.
Feeling hot, I pull my shirt off and throw it toward the blue leather lounge like a basketball.
It lands on the arm, and I grin. Still got it.
I used to love the sport, but it’s another thing I stopped doing when I met Kerry-Anne.
Shaking another unpleasant memory away, I start on my speciality dish, alla penne vodka. Flicking on some tunes from my phone, I hook it up to the Bluetooth and press play on Times Of Grace. Jesse’s voice is melodic, and it’s perfect for the occasion.
I start with chopping the garlic and onion, followed by the pancetta and get lost in the music. I’m about to put the pot of water on the stove, when my phone vibrates on the bench.
Seeing Blossom on the front screen makes my stomach dip and butterflies to swarm it. Why am I so damn nervous? Opening the message, I see she’s here and wondering what room to meet me in .
I give her the details and tell her the door is unlocked, and then I get back to my task. Placing the pot on the lit stove, I stir the sauce and not even a minute later I hear the door open and close.
I turn around and have to pick my damn jaw off the floor, because there stands Dottie, looking fucking breathtaking. Swallowing, my eyes sweep down the deep plunge in the dark purple dress that barely covers her tits, before it finishes above her knee.
“That smells amazing. Are we eating in?” she says, while I’m still trying to pick my jaw up.
“Sure are, Blossom. Fuck, you look exquisite.”
She ducks her head, but it does nothing to hide the blush or the smile on her lips. How am I going to make it through the evening? Clearing my throat, I motion for her to sit down and pour her a glass of wine.
I can’t stop looking at her.
“Damon, please, you’re making me nervous.”
“You just look so damn beautiful, baby.”
For the next hour, we fall into comfortable conversation while eating and drinking, and although she’s smiling and joking with me, I can tell something is on her mind. I’m about to ask her what’s going on for her, when she short circuits my damn brain.
“I left the plug in…”
Swallowing again, I let the smirk break free.
“Oh, you did, did you?”
She nods her head, her purple curls that are around her face bob with the motion.
“How does it feel?”
“To be honest, I actually forgot about it.”
“And that’s a good or bad thing?”
Chewing on her lip, I can tell she’s trying to figure out how to describe how it feels. I wait patiently, taking a sip of my whiskey, anticipating her answer.
“Initially, it felt uncomfortable, but after a little while I didn’t feel any discomfort…”
“And?” I drawl, knowing exactly what she is going to say.
Dottie screws her face up at me, and I laugh.
“You’re loving this.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, you are, asshole.”
“Pray, tell, sweet Dottie.”
“It started to feel good.”
“Interesting.”
“How is that fucking interesting?”
“Language.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.”
“And if I curse?”
“Fuck around and find out, Blossom,” I jest, seeing the cogs turning in her pretty head.
Licking her lips, she opens her mouth and closes it, smiling, and I know she’s going to be a brat before she even says anything. Leaning forward on the kitchen bench, she squeezes her tits together and I follow the motion.
Then she mouths, “Fuck.”
One.
Goddamn it to hell, she’s going to kill me.
Standing up, I scull the whiskey with my eyes on her before placing it on the bench and walking toward the lounge. Sitting down, I find her violet orbs watching me, hungrily.
“Blossom, come here.”
“Maybe I don’t fucking want to.”
Two.
“Excuse me? ”
“You heard me, Sir.”
Three.
“Would you like to try that again?”
“Not really.”
Four.
“Dorothy,” I warn, and I see her eyes darken.
“I’m good.”
Five.
“I’m going to count to five, and if you aren’t lying over my lap by the final count, things are going to go a lot different for you than I had planned.” My cock hardens at the thought.
“One.”
She doesn’t move.
“Two.”
She doesn’t move.
“Three,” I growl, putting more edge to my voice, and that gets her attention.
She takes a couple of steps before stopping.
“My sweet, sweet, Blossom, are you really testing me?”
She smirks at me and bats her eyelashes.
Brat.
“Four.”
With slow, calculated steps, she closes the distance between us, stopping a couple of feet in front of me, and then she bends down, placing her hands on my knees, her face a hairbreadth from mine.
I keep my eyes on hers, even though my cock is throbbing, and I want to look at her perfect tits swinging like pendulums between us. Licking her lips, she leans a little closer, our mouths almost touching, and I know what she is about to say is going to up her count. “Fuck.”
“Five,” I growl, grabbing her and flipping her over my knee.
“Damon,” she pants, wriggling on my lap, and I swear I almost combust with the breathy way she says my name.
I massage the globes of her ass, reining in my control before I lose it and bend her over and fuck her into oblivion. She needs to be punished, but I’m not a complete sadist, I’ll make sure I mix some pleasure in too.
“You are going to be the death of me, Blossom.”
She giggles, and I can’t help but smile.
“Because you decided to be a brat, I’m going to spank this pretty, round ass six times. Each time my palm connects I want you to count, and if you want to be ornery and disobey me, then there will be no orgasms for you.”
“Are you serious?” She gasps, trying to look over her shoulder at me.
“Deadly.”
She lies limply over my lap, and I glance down to see the glittery princess plug winking back at me. What I would love to do is pull it out and fuck her tight hole, but punishment first, pleasure second.
Groaning, I massage her ass again.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What is your safe word?”
“Tin Man.
“If at any time you feel you can’t take anymore, I need you to say it clearly, ok?
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” I praise her, grabbing the lube and squirting it all over her ass. I pull the plug in and out a few times, lubing her up, pushing my fingers in and out a few more times, entranced at how her hole gapes when I remove them.
Taking a shuddering breath, because I’m seriously reconsidering the punishment and fucking her instead, I slather her asshole in more lube, pump my fingers in and out again as she cries out in pleasure, her body gyrating on my lap, and then I’m lifting my hand, and it connects with her fleshy ass, causing my cock to twitch.
“One!” she screams out.
I rub the handprint to ease some of the pain. I move to the other cheek and in quick succession, I land another blow.
“Two!” she cries out while I soothe the area with my palm.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“Good.”
My hand comes down again in a different area, careful to stay in the middle or lower of her ass and avoid the less fleshy parts. Her ass jiggles on connection.
“Three!”
Her voice comes out less sharp, bordering on a moan, eliciting a growl from me. “Goddamn it, Dorothy, you’re going to kill me.”
She lets out a strangled laugh, but doesn’t say anything, and it brings out the beast inside of me, the one that wants to ruin her for any other man, the beast that wants to own her, possess her, keep her.
My palm comes down in a quick slap, the noise echoing around us, and causing her to squirm on my lap as she cries out.
“Four!” she keens, the count ending on a moan, and a growl bottles up my damn throat.
Caressing her cheeks, I can’t help but feel like a caveman when I see all my handprints adorning her ass.
Glancing away from her ass for a moment, I look at her hanging over my lap, her curled hair curtains around her face, and I notice the paintbrush hanging out that she always has in her tied-up hair .
“How are you feeling, Blossom?”
“I feel…” She hesitates, and I encourage her by running my hand over her ass. “Turned on.”