24. Twenty-four
Twenty-four
Ainsley
T elling Payton I want him and I’m willing to explore this Daddy-Princess thing didn’t result in him taking me back to the bedroom to fuck me while calling me his filthy little cumslut like I thought it would. Instead, he smiled and kissed my forehead before taking my hand and leading me to the dining room where a breakfast spread was set out for us. He pulled out a chair for me at the dining table and asked what I wanted to eat, then made us both plates of food while I tried to figure him out.
I feel emotionally hungover after unloading on him last night. He took every sordid memory I unleashed and validated my experience in the most calming, comforting way imaginable. He didn’t swear to kill Archer or to make up for what I’d experienced. He just sat with me and listened, hearing my pain and loving me through it. Wait, nope. That’s a clingy koala thought. Slow down, you slutty demonic koala. Just because you’ve decided to fuck him does not mean you need to show up claiming to be in love. Back the fuck up.
I frown at him. “I’m perfectly capable of getting my own food and you’re a billionaire with staff to do this. Why are you insisting on serving me like this?” I ask as he sets a plate piled with waffles, fruit, bacon, and scrambled eggs on the table before taking a seat next to me.
“I want to. More iced coffee?” He motions at my empty glass. It was perfectly made, just the right amount of vanilla creamer, and the ice hadn’t melted, so he must have allowed the coffee to cool before he made it. It's really thoughtful and attentive because the stupid man pays attention to everything and I wish I could fault him for it.
I snort a laugh. “No, one coffee is fine. You think I’m wound up and cranky with multiple caffeinated beverages.”
He leans over and traces his nose along my jaw to my ear, where he whispers playfully, “I like you bratty and unfiltered, Spitfire. Remember that the mean things you say do it for me just as much as the rest of your…very…impressive…package,” he says, nipping at my neck with his teeth between each word, causing my head to roll to the side for him as he traces kisses along my skin.
Good Lord, he knows exactly what to say and do to make me crave more. My nipples are painfully hard and goosebumps rise over my skin when he finally pulls his lips away.
“Should I put on my glasses and scold you so you’ll do that again? Or what was it you said? Push my skirt up and fuck me on the table?” I taunt, but it’s a little breathy and less sarcastic than intended .
Payton’s eyes grow dark with desire as they dart between me and the table, and I know he’s thinking of doing just that.
“Mmm,” he growls, and it vibrates deep in his chest as he catches his bottom lip with his teeth, staring down at me. Fuck, that’s so sexy. “I like you being a little cocktease. You want me to fuck you so badly now, but you have to wait. We have plans and they don’t include a marathon sex session right now, as amazing as that sounds. Be a good girl for me until I get you all to myself later. I want you wet and squirming thinking of what I’ll do to that needy cunt. You’ll be begging for my cock before the day is over. Just know I’ll have you coming on my fingers and mouth before I ever give it to you. You’ll be a dirty little whore for me today, right Princess?”
I nod, pressing my thighs together as my core throbs with each filthy word he utters in that commanding tone of his that sucks me in. “Yes.”
He takes my chin in his hand and gives me a look that says he likes me in this obedient state. “Yes what, my perfect cumslut?”
I know what he’s looking for, and I’m willing to give it to him despite how foreign it feels to the independent, controlled woman I am in my everyday life. There’s a part of me that thrills to use the term with him, to give up control and place my trust in his hands in a safe space, knowing it’ll precede something my body and mind needs for whatever reason. “Yes, Daddy.” I tremble as I say the words and he smiles.
“That’s my good girl.”
He releases my chin and caresses his hands down my bare arms, smoothing over the goosebumps his deep voice and dirty talk cause. He brings my hands to his lips to kiss my knuckles.
“Please eat your breakfast before I feed you by hand.”
I laugh as he drops my hands and turn back to my food, feeling lighter, though now I’m wet and squirming in my seat, just the way he wants me.
We take a tender boat into Jekyll Island and Payton treats me to a day of touristy activities. He takes photos of us every time we stop somewhere he deems picturesque, or he likes the background for a selfie. He’s posting them regularly to his personal social media pages, knowing his family and the thousands of people who follow him will see them, for the purpose of spreading our couple status. He’s really convincing at playing a besotted boyfriend, and it’s pretty hard to distinguish the lines between real or fake with him when he keeps pulling me back into his arms, kissing my head, and tucking me against his side, even when no one’s around to see us.
My text notifications are going off like crazy, mostly from Della wanting to know how things with Payton are going, and what we’re up to, so I give her regular updates. She’s thrilled, obviously, and wants details, but I don’t have much I can say. She hearts my photos when I send her a few I’ve taken of us, including one where Payton is standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, kissing my head while I scrunch my face up in a mix of a smile and grimace. Her response is in all caps and curse words, so I think she’s both shocked and happy.
I’m also getting regular nasty messages that I know are from Archer, and I keep blocking those unknown numbers. Payton notices each time I tense up or sigh in frustration but doesn’t say anything. He pulls me closer and runs his fingers through my hair or smooths his hand down my back until I relax again. He doesn’t seem to mind that I pull my phone out often while I’m with him. He just gives me an indulgent look and smiles when I catch his eye as I finish up whatever I’m typing. I take plenty of photos of him looking incredible against the coastal backdrop and historic scenery for research purposes. And maybe for my own use. The man is drop-dead gorgeous, after all.
We visit the Mosaic Museum where Payton patiently allows me to pull him along as I learn the history of the island and the stories of the people who shaped it during the Gilded Age.
“I could fuck you properly in the back seat of a car like that,” he whispers in my ear as we pass a classic Studebaker on display in the middle of the museum. “Should we try it before more kids crowd inside?”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you trying to get arrested today?” I hiss as I drag him away from the car when he looks a little too serious about his suggestion. “That’s certainly one way to make headlines.”
He laughs. “Harlowe’s asking how serious we are and if I need her help finding a girlfriend I can be serious with, even after all the stories in the Haute List about us. I need to up my grand gesture game and make sure something a bit more outrageous runs so she knows the rumors are true and I’m completely crazy about you.”
My face heats when he says that, even though I know he means it all for show. I shake my head at him in warning. “We should be out in Atlanta if you want the Haute List to be running stories about us. We shouldn’t be spending so much time alone. No one is going to recognize us here in South Georgia on a barrier island doing tourist stuff.”
He turns, wearing a sardonic smile, and taps me on the nose. “That’s where you’re wrong, Muffin. We’ve had at least five people take photos of us since we stepped onto the island this morning.” His smile drops as he pulls me into his side when we exit the museum and he grows uncharacteristically serious.
“I didn’t even notice.” I'm shocked to hear this. I look around, expecting to see paparazzi stalking us now, or at least some tourists with cell phones pointing our way that I’ll be able to see for myself, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“I’m used to it since I see it more than you’re used to, even though you’ve had a taste of that sort of fame now that you’re with me. People think they have a right to take pictures of me and my family and write shit about us and our personal lives. We never asked for that. We run a business that happens to do well; we’re not celebrities. Well, Harlowe’s a celebrity, and she knows how to handle that, but the rest of us are far more private and never asked for that life.”
I feel a prick of guilt, being lumped in with the journalists and people who’ve written about his family.
“You’re all public figures. It comes with the territory,” I say, sounding defensive. “You’re incredibly fascinating. Not many people find the kind of success and wealth your family has. It makes a compelling story, and that’s good journalism to write what will sell papers. Your business deals and the things that happen at your level make waves that affect the world and markets at large. Of course it’s going to make the news, and so will you.”
“If it stopped at our deals and what happens during business, sure, but what about all the after-hours stuff? Gossip sites have hounded my brothers and their wives from the beginning of their relationships. Pictures of their kids are splashed across the internet all the time. Pregnancies were announced and baby names were shared online before our extended family or friends were even told about them. They can’t even go out to dinner without the outing becoming a story. That’s not business, that’s invasive.”
“I’m sure the gossip sites just see it as y’all being people of interest.” My heart pounds as a wave of fear passes through me. This feels like a black mark against my profession, something he holds against me as a journalist. I’m in damage control mode. “You can’t really blame them for seeing your family and wanting to write about everything that happens to you because you’re Southern gods. All of you are insanely good-looking, ridiculously wealthy, and blessed beyond belief when it comes to every business deal that comes your way, with lives that seem like fairy tales or far more interesting than average. Even the bad stuff is worthy of reporting on because of who you are. You make for epic entertainment, fair or not.”
He pulls me off the path toward a secluded stand of ancient oaks ringed by fat-headed, pink hydrangea bushes and pushes my back against a huge oak tree dripping with Spanish moss. He leans an arm on the trunk over my head as he looks down at me with a troubled expression. “Now I’m using the same gossip machine against my own family for personal gain, and I’ve forced you to be a part of it. It’s fucked up.”
I reach up with one hand to smooth the tension from his forehead and he leans into my touch, closing his eyes. I slide my hands behind his neck and pull his head toward me as I press up on my toes, molding our bodies together, which brings our lips a breath apart, hoping to provide what little comfort I’m able to, given my job is part of the problem causing his distress.
“You’re doing what you have to.”
I hate seeing him troubled, and it’s a peek inside the head of a mastermind. I know he carefully crafts every move and calculates his plans, but this is the first time he’s shown that he feels the weight of each one far more than he lets on.
“I’m always doing what I have to, not what I want to. I put Olympus, my family, and everyone else, first. It’s the only way to keep what we’ve built intact and moving forward.”
“You’re a good man, but you shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything you want to make all that happen.”
He seems vulnerable for the first time and it makes me want to cut my skin open and pull him inside with me so we can be raw together while I keep us safe with my prickly exterior. It increases my growing feelings of attachment. Sirens for the warning system I put in place after Archer devastated me are wailing now. Still, I can’t help my natural inclination to want to be close to someone who opens up and shares themself with me, who turns the spotlight of their attention on me, who holds me and shows me affection and gets the good feelings flowing that turn me into a red-flag-waving, clingy koala bear that won’t let go even when I know it’s no good for me. I pull my face away the slightest, hoping to give myself space to remember why I don’t do attachments now, but can’t bring myself to fully disengage, wanting this closeness even more than self-preservation. He’s not Archer. This isn’t the same.
“My life is about sacrifice. That’s my role. It’s not about what I want.” His eyes finally meet mine. He keeps his face close like he needs the contact to be this open.
“What do you want?” I ask, threading my fingers into his hair and looking for some way to comfort him now that he seems to be opening up and dropping the enthusiastic and overly smiley thing he’s had going since I met him. Maybe that’s his own armor, like I use my attitude and prickly persona. It wouldn’t surprise me. It must be exhausting to be that on all the time. He’s genuinely nice and happy, but he’s allowed to feel something other than enthusiasm and excitement. He can experience the full range of human emotions, rather than simply the good ones that people expect of him.
“I want you to let go of your control with me, give in to what you actually need, and let me show you what unguarded pleasure looks like as I take care of you completely. I want you.”
My breath stutters as I process his request and my warring thoughts. Fuck it. I want him . It’s more than just wanting his dominant side that spanks me, or wanting to introduce sex into our fake relationship. He’s shown me this other side, one that’s not masked by his easy smiles and carefree attitude. He’s given me so much with this admission and openness that I want to do the same. I let my thoughts and intentions spill into my face, finally letting down my guard, not wearing my anger and hostility to keep him away. I need him close and I want him to know. I brush my nose against his gently as I lick my lips, wondering if I'm going to have to initiate this first kiss, or if he will. I nod my acceptance slowly.
“I want that, too.”
“That’s it, Princess,” he breathes as his hands circle my waist, pulling me up his body.
I hold on to his shoulders and wrap my legs around his hips while he closes that tiny distance, crashing his mouth down on mine. The soft petals of the hydrangeas tickle the skin of my legs. A quiet moan escapes when his tongue teases my lips apart and I let him in, eager to taste and feel more of him. His hand tangles in my hair, pulling tight and angling my head as I gasp into his mouth. He rumbles a pleased groan as he kisses the hell out of me, but he does it slowly and thoroughly. The scent of green foliage, damp earth, the sea salt and amber smell of him surround me, and I’m lost in the feeling of Payton against me.
I bury my fingers in his soft, dark hair, keeping him just as close. My tongue tangles with his, tasting mint and man, realizing he’s my new obsession. He kisses me slowly like he’s learning every bit of my mouth without hurry, teasing out a desire that has my body burning with need. I grind my hips against him and he rolls his slowly in answer, matching the cadence of this kiss, staying slow, hungry, deep, like he’s fucking my mouth and my pussy against the tree.
I whimper as so many sensations wash over me all at once. The bark of the oak against my back. The petals of the hydrangeas. The feel of Payton’s cock rubbing my clit through our clothes. His hair in my fingers. Hot breath and low groans mixing. I’m in a frenzy of lust and he’s so unhurried, and—oh God, we’re right off a public path and someone could see us. My eyes fly open as I pull away from the kiss and grip his shirt to make him stop.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” I whisper, my voice coming out husky with need because I don’t want to stop but know we definitely should. I try to look around his shoulder to see how far off the path we are and just how much of our PDA someone can see.
Payton hasn’t stopped moving his hips in that slow, hypnotic rhythm, his thick, hard cock rubbing against my clit continuously, and holy shit does it feel good and it’s just dry humping. What’s this man capable of without his clothes on? A giddy feeling rushes through me, knowing I’ll find out. I tip my head against the tree, panting from holding myself back while wanting him.
“We’re not stopping until you get off, Princess. You’re coming like this with your clothes on or I’ll get on my knees, rip your shorts off, and bury my face in that sweet cunt and eat you right here for anyone to see. Tell me what you want, baby girl.”
A flood of warmth greets his words and my core clenches, tipping me over the edge of my release. He slams his mouth over mine, catching my moans, and lets me ride out my release while he kisses me senselessly. He slows our kiss even more, stilling his hips against mine, and peppers my face with soft kisses as I breathe hard through my come down.
“You were right,” I say, the words coming out breathy and low as I keep my eyes closed, head tipped back against the tree trunk.
He chuckles as he kisses down my neck. “About what, exactly?”
“You can make me come with words alone. But friction helps.”
He lets out a deep laugh and buries his face into the hollow of my neck and shoulder. “Yeah, it really does. And you actually used my cock to get off this time. Such a good girl,” he purrs, and it sends a shiver through my body. He straightens up and gently sets me on my feet, fixes my clothes, and smoothes my hair. “You look freshly fucked and those perfect, puffy lips can’t be helped. Just the way I like it. I want everyone to know my little fucktoy was just used and is freshly satisfied.”
I blink at him and bring a hand up to my mouth. My lips are a bit puffy from our kiss, and I’m sure I look like a hot mess, but damn, if that’s what he likes…I laugh. I brush hydrangea blossoms and bark off my legs as he adjusts himself discreetly, and I realize that he got me off, but he didn’t come.
“I can take care of you.” I reach for his shorts and he gently grabs my wrist, stopping me from dropping to my knees.
“You’re my priority, and I’m satisfied. You’ll be dripping with my cum later if that’s what you want.”
I shiver at his dirty words and the promise in them.
“I have an IUD, and I haven’t been with anyone in years. I want to feel you inside of me when you fill me with cum.” I look up at him shyly, not sure if I should be asking this or if that’s what he’s saying. Payton’s eyes widen in shock and quickly transform into a look of intense pleasure.
“Fuck, baby, you can’t say shit like that to me.”
“Never mind.” My heart hammers hard as I realize what I’ve asked for.
He backs me into the tree again so I feel him, hard and ready, pressed against my stomach. He grips my chin and makes me look up at him. “You want me to fuck you bare and come inside your pretty pussy, Princess?”
I try to pull away in embarrassment. “Just forget I said anything.”
“I can’t forget it. I don’t take that lightly. I’ve never fucked a woman bare, but goddamn do I want to bend you over right now and have my way with you. I won’t be able to stop thinking about it, and that means I’m going to do it. Jesus, Ainsley. It’s one thing planning to have you choking on my cum and decorating your beautiful body with it, and another thing to fill your tight pussy with it. Fuck, I want to see you dripping now.” He scrubs his palm down his face as he looks at me and my face burns red hot, but I can’t stop my lips from twisting into an embarrassed smile.
“How was I supposed to know you were all talk? I saw it so vividly in my head; my mouth, pussy, and ass full of your cum. That’s all I’ve been able to think of around you.” I give him an innocent look and his eyes go nearly feral with desire. I like knowing I can get him to lose control like this.
“Stop talking or we’ll get arrested for indecent exposure for sure. I’m half tempted to put you on your hands and knees on the grass right here and fuck you stupid, but I want you somewhere more comfortable the first time I get you naked and fuck you the way you need to be. Let’s get out of here. Our day isn't done.”
I take the hand he offers me as we leave our secluded spot, which I’m happy to see was well hidden from anyone who could’ve wandered by.