Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
DOTTIE
T he last week has been fucking hell. If I’m not sorting mum’s funeral out, or tending to my dad’s unstable and violent outbursts, I’m trying to keep myself from burning out.
That’s why I’m at the workshop finishing off the mural.
Painting and Damon are the only things that quiet my mind. For that much I’m grateful, because when I’m not doing either of those things, my mind is a giant clusterfuck, spinning around and around, with my mother playing the lead role.
Every single memory I can recall plays on a loop, even the horrible and painful ones. Those memories I struggle with the most. As if sensing my discomfort, a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around my middle, his scent grounding me.
Damon.
The memories fade into the background with his embrace, and I close my eyes, welcoming the serenity. Resting his chin on the top of head, he hums in approval before swaying us both.
“Did you miss me, Blossom?”
“Mhmm. ”
I feel his smile, even though I can’t see it. Opening my eyes, I spin around in his arms, linking mine around his neck. He smirks at me, his dark eyes sparkling.
“What can I do for you, Mr Woods?”
“Oh, do you have a teacher or boss kink, Miss Wilmott?”
“Perhaps. And maybe I’ve been a bad girl.”
“Really?”
I feel him harden between us.
I know I’m using sex as a coping mechanism, but Damon makes it so easy. He’s so damn sexy, attentive, and he understands me in a way not even I understand myself. He’s not na?ve, he knows what I’m doing, and the only reason he lets me get away with it, is because we are both safe and consenting.
With everything Damon told me about the BDSM lifestyle, trust and communication is what we must have in order to sustain our Dominant/Submissive relationship.
I am only grateful I am with a man that adheres to those values seriously, because after we began our relationship, I researched a hell of a lot, and some women aren’t so lucky.
“What are you thinking about, Miss Wilmott?”
“Oh, nothing, Sir.”
I watch his eyes darken as his grip on my hips tighten.
“So how bad have you been, Miss Wilmott?”
“I didn’t finish the mural, Sir, and I may have touched myself…”
The growl that leaves his throat sounds like crunching gravel, and in the blink of an eye, I’m up against the wall, his hand encircling my throat, pushing the cold metal of the collar into the hollow of my neck, but it’s not enough to stop my oxygen.
“Did you now? What are the rules, Miss Wilmott? ”
“I’m not to touch myself without your permission.” I rasp.
“Exactly. So do you think you should be punished for disobeying me?”
“Whatever pleases you, Sir.”
His eyebrows hit his hairline.
“Very well then, Blossom. I need you to lift up your skirt, pull down your thong and bend over that desk.”
“But I’m not wearing a thong, Sir.” I sass, batting my eyelashes.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“You’d die happy.”
“Minx,” he says, smirking. “Desk. Skirt up.”
I move toward the desk, swinging my hips from side to side more than necessary. Damon groans behind me and it makes me smile. I feel powerful with this man and it’s utterly intoxicating.
Reaching the desk, I glance over my shoulder and lock eyes with him. Flipping my skirt up, I watch his jaw clench as he works it. He’s barely hanging on, and it makes me hotter for him.
It’s the look in his stormy blues, the way he readjusts himself, but the love, desire and need that pumps off him in vicious waves, makes me forget everything.
Right now, it is only him and I, and I wonder if he knows how much this means to me; how much he means to me. His eyes flick to the collar around my neck, a malicious gleam pulling at the corner of his eyes.
My breaths come fast and hard as he unloops his belt from his jeans, rips his shirt over his head and struts over to me with the buckles clanging loudly. My pussy clenches around nothing, the need within climbing to volcanic levels.
Swallowing harshly, his smirk deepens the closer he gets to me, and within seconds he’s standing behind me, draping the belt over my ass, moving it leisurely.
“You really do have a fine ass, Miss Wilmott.”
“What if we get caught, Sir?”
“Isn’t that what you want, hmm? I think you want someone to walk in and see me spanking this phat ass and burying my big cock to the hilt in this sweet as sin cunt.”
I moan, drawing my lip into my mouth and biting down on it because he more than hit the nail on the damn head. He chuckles and shakes his head, before landing a soft slap to my ass.
“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?”
I don’t answer him, so when he flicks the belt and it lands on the back of my thigh, I let out a gasp.
“Answer me.”
“Maybe.”
“Liar. But let me tell you something, Miss Wilmott, I don’t like to share, hell, I don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.
These perfect tits.” He pauses and grabs my tits roughly over my shirt.
“This pussy.” His hand releases my tits and slides down to cup my pussy, pulling a moan from me as my head falls forward.
“This fucking ass,” he growls, and in the next second, leather hits my backside, the sting leaving me a beautiful fucking mess.
“Oh god, Damon, please.”
“Please what, Blossom?”
“Just fuck me. I need you inside of me now.”
“But you’ve been a bad girl, Miss Wilmott, and bad girls get punished.” he states matter of factly, the hiss of the belt in the air coming down and landing on my ass in two quick successions.
“Please!”
“Please what? ”
“Please, Sir!”
Damon says nothing for a moment, massaging my ass with his hands, no doubt over the welts that are forming. Palming my cheeks, he leans forward and kisses along my spine.
“What have you learned, Miss Wilmott?”
“To not disobey a direct order, Sir.”
“Will you touch yourself again without my permission?”
“No, no, I promise, please, Sir, I need…” I sob, not finishing my sentence because without warning Damon slams into me.
His cock stretches me in the most blissful of ways. He fucks me rough, ruthless, like he’s unhinged, and a part of me revels in the fact that I do this to him. That I make him lose control.
Me. Poor little Dorothy Wilmott.
“Get out of your head, baby, right now you are mine, and I own your thoughts, your orgasms, everything .”
I nod, pushing back, needing more of him.
His hand threads through my hair and he tips my head back, his lips crashing to mine while he continues fucking me.
Moaning into his mouth, I keep my eyes open as we kiss, and I see the hunger, the promise and love shimmering through the tear that clings to the corner of his left eye.
I want to ask why he’s crying, but when he slams into me harder, his teeth piercing my lip allowing blood to flow into our mouths, it’s all I can do to not cream all over his god damn cock.
Ripping away from the kiss, he smears the blood over his lips with his thumb and fuck me, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Damon looks possessed, like the devil himself, and I can feel myself gushing all over his dick.
“Dammit, Dorothy, your pussy is squeezing me to death. ”
“Like your cock is fucking me into hell.” I sass back breathlessly.
Damon lets out a hoarse chuckle, his hips stuttering but he doesn’t stop.
“Play with yourself, baby.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’m really going to punish this sweet ass.”
On instinct, my hand moves down my body, my fingers messily toying with my clit, with each thrust of his hips. My hipbones dig into the hard desk, but I don’t say shit because I can feel myself climbing toward that peak that I’m ready to throw myself over and combust.
Damon’s fist clenches tighter around my hair, his cock sliding in and out of me deliciously, but what sends me over the edge is the look in his eyes as his tongue darts out to lick the blood I can feel dried on my lips.
Fuck me to hell and back, and then send me to heaven, I come so hard, screaming his name with it echoing around us and him groaning behind me, his cum hitting the walls of my pussy as he spills inside of me.
Instead of staying inside of me like he normally does, he pulls out, not giving me time to wind down from the orgasm, and it makes me feel empty, emotions and memories creeping in.
“Spread your ass, Blossom, let me see my cum leaking from your pretty little cunt.”
My stomach tightens in anticipation, chasing away the thoughts from moments ago, and as I lay my head on the cold desk, and it keeps me centred and in the moment.
Swallowing, humiliation blooms in my cheeks, but I force myself to remember where I am, who I am here with, and then I’m spreading myself open, baring myself to him .
“Fuck me swinging, I will never get sick of seeing you filled with my cum like that, Dorothy. Shit, I’m hard again.”
I giggle, but he dies in my throat when I hear another voice.
“Look, wankstain, I’m happy you can still get it up in your old age, but could you both cover up or some shit before this gets uncomfortable?”
“Johnny, you have three seconds to get the fuck out of this office, otherwise we are having words with our fists!” Damons yells, and I bite back a laugh, not even worried that he may have seen us fucking, because something tells me Johnny would respect Damon’s privacy above everything.
But then he calls back, making me blanch and questioning what I was just thinking.
“Nice, ass, wankstain, it’s a pity about the hair.” Johnny yells back, his laughter echoing and fading out down the hallway.
My eyes snap to Damon, finding his face warring between a snarl and a smirk, and I let out a stuttered breath. Damon wraps me in his arms, kisses the top of my head, my nose and finally my lips.
“Go and shower, baby, I’ll be right back after I deal with this asshole.”
“Are you sure?”
“Dorothy.”
“Damon.”
“Get in that shower before I take you out into the workshop, and fuck you in front of Johnny.”
“You wouldn’t!” I mock gasp, giggling.
“Try me.”
Deciding it will be fun to test him, and keep me from my own thoughts, I walk toward the door that leads to the office, only to have Damon’s strong arm bringing me back into him.
“Get in that shower, Blossom, otherwise you’re not coming for a month.”
My eyes go wide in disbelief, but when he raises his eyebrow, a smirk fixated on his perfect fucking face, I know he’s not fucking around. I swear to all that is holy I don’t think I’ve ever run as fast as I do to get to the bathroom.
Damon – One. Dorothy – Zero.