17. You Need Me

Leonie

I’m going to make love to you.

Tipsy, I kept on smiling to myself in the taxi, laughing at his words.

Dom and I sat in the back. He’d said he wanted to sit in the middle so he could give directions. It was laughable. The only direction he found was his fingers to my clit.

My arms kept feeling light, wanting to reach out and wind around his neck, pull his face down and slam my mouth to his. Like I’d wanted to all night. Outside the toilets, at the bar with that guy, getting ready. I’d longed to throw myself at him. Or my mascara. Or my chair.

But we hadn’t kissed in the club, no matter how much he touched me. He’d given me one tiny peck when we had sex earlier. When we’d kissed in the car, I’d initiated it, begged him. Last night, again, his kiss had been a way to show his anger.

Maybe he wasn’t a kisser. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me.

Every man I’d ever been with — one-night stands, long monogamous relationships — would start our little rendezvous with a kiss and some groping.

But I was quickly learning that Dom was not like them.

And I really, really wanted to kiss him.

“You’re holding back,” he breathed in my ear. His touch under my dress was languid, slow, soft. As if we had all the time in the world. “What do you need?”

Kissing was intimate. It wasn’t like earlier when he’d bent me over, shoved my face into the sofa and pounded into me.

“You,” I said and draped my leg over his.

There was humour in his voice as he said, “You need me.”

Whenever he spoke, his lips trailed my skin so I couldn’t see his smiles, but I could hear them.

I lowered my head to whisper in his ear, “I need you as soon as we’re in my flat.”

His finger added the slightest bit more pressure. “I’d have you here if you wouldn’t slap me for it. Tell me where you want me. What surface? I can bend you over—”

“You want me to dirty talk you?” I asked with a tiny, tipsy giggle.

“Yes,” he said, sitting up to look at me. His drunk, excited eyes had me biting my bottom lip. “God, yes. I need to hear all the filth you want me to do to you.”

“Hmm,” I thought aloud and traced my finger along his jawline, his throat, running in small patterns. He smelled so good, just like he did as a teenager. The scent was nostalgic and aroused me even more. He must still use the same aftershave. “I did see some things in the back of your wardrobe I might want to play with.”

“Go on,” he encouraged, his hands roaming my sides, up my waist. I missed his touch under my thong.

“I want you to tie me up,” I said and, somehow, didn’t cringe at my words. Liquid courage. “My fantasy is you doing whatever you want to me.”

He groaned deep in his throat. “I’d like to see you at my mercy in nothing but ropes.”

Then his back straightened again with the tiniest frown. “Surely other guys have wanted your ass before, though, and, you what, didn’t let them?”

I ran my hand up his thigh to his bulge. I didn’t want to talk about other men.

“When I say my fantasy is you doing whatever you want to me, that’s what I mean. Not just any man. You.”

He stopped his movements and looked up out of the window. I’d been too open, too vulnerable, too needy. He was about to back away, realise this was a mistake and ask the driver to take him back to his house. To Mia.

“There’s a hotel,” he said suddenly. “There’s a hotel just down the road from here. Let’s go there. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Isn’t that my line?” I asked, brushing the corner of his lips with mine. “We’re only two minutes away.”

“Too long,” he whispered and kissed me.

It was soft and sweet for all of two seconds before he nipped at my lip, my mouth opening for him to slide in his tongue. If the seatbelt wasn’t restraining me, I would have done exactly what I had in his car earlier. Climbed onto his lap.

His touch travelled up and down my arms, his calloused hands rough against me.

“Leo,” he said as he pulled back to look me in the eye. “This is not how I saw my weekend going.”

“Me neither,” I said with a smile. Just over twenty-four hours ago, I’d dreaded him coming to our flat. “I’m not mad about it, though.”

“Oh no,” he agreed. “I’m quite happy about it.”

“Quite?” I teased. “You’re just a little bit happy about it?”

As soon as I said it, I realised his girlfriend and cohabitant had to cheat on him for us to get there. His thoughts clearly didn’t go that way.

“I try not to act so keen around women I want to impress,” he drawled.

“Ooh, you want to impress me?” I laughed.

We were filling the void, trying to keep our distance because if I touched him, kissed him… I couldn’t handle two minutes, but the thick and intoxicating energy between us, still feeling each other’s bodies…

Two minutes was too long.

He bent his head for his hazel eyes, inches away from mine, to be the whole of my vision. “I plan on impressing you real hard tonight, Leonie.”

My insides clenched.

Well fuck, maybe we should just sit in silence. He could go and sit in the seat further away because this was not working.

“God, do not bite your lip like that. If you don’t want me to pull us out of this moving car and fuck you on the pavement, do not do that.”

I pulled my lip into my mouth with a scrape of my teeth. He could throw me from this slowing car and as long as I was in his arms, pressed up against him, I could deal with the broken bones. He’d fuck me hard, then bandage me up like he had this morning.

“Leo,” he warned, voice low. “Don’t.”

But I laughed and pulled his mouth back to mine because I had to kiss him. I had to wriggle closer.

His hand cupped my chin. Maybe he was a kisser.

“Anywhere here?” the taxi driver asked, turning down her music.

Dom pulled away and nodded, not looking out the window but instead at me. “Yeah, this is great.” Then he passed some notes to her, told her to keep the change and leaned over me to open my door.

I scooted out, standing at the open door, waiting for him. It had been humid all night, but as we left the bar, the cold was starting to bite. Dom’s body heat was all I craved.

But he sat there, now in my seat, looking up at me and shaking his head. “Fuck.”

“What?” I asked, folding my arms to stroke them.

He stood, closed the taxi door and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I was just looking at you.”

“I don’t—”

“You look good enough to eat, little lion,” he purred in my ear. “I’m just glad that it’s me you left with. Me in your bed tonight.”

Hopefully, not just my bed.

We walked across the car park and I fished out my keys in my bag, using the fob to get us in the building. Issy and I lived on the fourth floor, but these shoes made the stairs impossible.

Our security guard in the lobby already had the lift waiting for us and Dom ushered me in with a tap on my ass. “Keep your door key in your hand.”

I held it between my finger and thumb. And as the lift door dinged and closed, he was on me. Both hands on my jaw, he pulled me to him before pressing me into the mirror. His erection pressed up against my stomach and I reached for it through his jeans. It only lasted thirty seconds before we were on our floor, leaving me blinking and breathless.

“You got that key?”

There were seconds between his question and my answer. “Y—yeah.”

Even as I put the key in the lock, he stood behind me, his fingertips dragging up my arm, his lips pressed into my shoulder.

“This fucking dress, Leo,” he breathed. “This bloody dress. I want you naked, I want you in it. Around you, all I do is want.”

Finally, I stopped fumbling with the key and the door opened.

If I thought he might be gracious enough for me to take off my shoes or turn the light on, I was very wrong.

He kicked the door closed behind us and, in the moonlight that cast through the window, he looked down at me as if I were prey.

His muscular body walked me back towards the wall, and not taking his eyes from mine, he pressed in the keycode for our beeping security system above my head.

“How’d you—”

“I installed this, remember?” he said, bending to speak in my ear as he lifted my dress up to my waist. Skin-tight, it stayed there as he kneaded my ass cheeks. “How long were you with that guy at the bar?”

“Half—half an hour, I think?”

“So a spanking for every five minutes is your punishment,” he said, his grip tightening. “So that’s six times I’m going to slap your ass.”

“You’ll have me acting up on purpose,” I mumbled, feeling the hard length of him through his jeans again.

“If you enjoy it too much, maybe I’ll flog you.”

My rubbing against him picked up. I’d been spanked before, but never with something.

He unzipped my dress in one quick movement, then pulled it down my hips. When it fell to the floor, he offered a hand to help me step out of it.

“What a gentleman,” I said and started on the buttons of his shirt.

“You won’t be saying that in a minute,” he said and, three buttons down, he stopped me, instead pulling the shirt over his head.

I wasted no time, starting with his belt. He could flog me with this. Yes, actually. That was exactly what I needed.

“Gonna put you over my knee,” he promised, ravaging a breast, squeezing it as hard as he had my ass. “I want to pound an imprint of my cock in your pussy. No one will ever fill you like I do.”

My nod was so enthusiastic, my head tipsy, the room spun. I needed him to ground me, hold me and do exactly as he’d just fucking said.

I shoved at his jeans, trying to pull them down as he brushed the lace of my knickers with a finger.

“Patience, Leonie,” he said, his voice gruff. “We have a while.”

Yes, because his sister could come back at any point.

“This,” he said and cupped my pussy aggressively, “is all mine tonight. I’m taking full advantage.”

“Take this off,” I begged with another tug.

He stepped back and undressed, the low silver light showing off his whole body. The hard muscle, the smooth skin, the graceful way he moved. I wanted this man more than I’d wanted anything.

He grabbed my ass again — he was definitely more of an ass guy than a tits guy — and kissed me desperately. He pulled me closer and I wrapped my legs around him. His boxers were in the way. The strap of lace was in the way.

I needed him bare as he’d said.

My hands looped around his neck as I rolled my hips against him. “When… when are your results?”

The kiss broken, he nipped at the crease of my throat as he walked us to the living room. He carried my weight easily as if I were nothing but a gym bag.

Dom dropped me onto the sofa. “Tomorrow,” he said gruffly, annoyed at himself. “Can you remember what you lied about earlier?” he asked, looking down at me, a dark glint in his eye.

“That I regretted it,” I said, shame clear in my voice but I grabbed the elastic waist of his boxers and pulled him closer to me. “Enough talking.”

“You said you did a better job yourself,” he crooned, a wicked smile on his face. “So show me.”

How many times had I imagined my own fingers as his? How many times had I whispered his name into the pillow as I came?

But this…

“It wasn’t a suggestion, Leo,” he growled and leaned over me. “Spread those legs and make yourself come.”

Stalling, I dragged two fingers up my inner thigh as he sat before me on the floor. His eyes were level with my hips. “It doesn’t seem fair to get the pleasure before the punishment.”

He chuckled, eyes locked on my fingers. “I know you’re going to be a lying brat in a second, so I thought we’d get all of your lies out the way first. Touch yourself, don’t make me say it again.”

I ran the tips of my fingers over the lace as he had done minutes ago.

“Is this how you normally do it?” he asked, a brow cocked, his tone disbelieving. “Or are you just teasing me?”

“Sometimes I just like to tease myself,” I whispered as I traced the edge of my underwear, imagining it was his touch, remembering what it looked like for his head to be between my thighs.

“Show me,” he begged and when I opened my eyes, he was on his knees on the floor, staring intently. “Show me how wet you are.”

“Maybe I like to tease you, too,” I said with a little breathless smile. God, this was the worst torment of my life. My pussy was pulsing and it had hardly been touched.

He gave up. His rough hands pushed my thighs apart and then he ripped my knickers off. Ripped then pulled them out from underneath me.

My gasp was lost in the shock of the motion, at the air suddenly surrounding me.

I’d never hesitated when it came to sex. I took what I wanted, gave what I wanted. But here…

Here, my fingers jerked awkwardly towards my clit. Robotically.

His gaze was intense on my movements as he licked his lips.

He wanted to fuck me.

He’d begged for this.

Dom Belov wanted me.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned as if in pain. “I need to see what you like. But if you like to be tormented like this… I can’t tonight. I can’t hold back that much. Not tonight.”

Because this wasn’t a twenty-four-hour sickness bug of lust. This was temporary but not fleeting.

I pressed small circles into my clit and we both groaned out. He pushed my legs further apart and held them there tight.

“Do you enjoy watching?” I asked as I quickened my touch.

He nodded, not looking up from my pussy. “I enjoy you. Let me enjoy the taste of you.”

So I bent over and my fingers disappeared between his lips as he sucked the flavour off them. I couldn’t go a second without something, so my other hand fell to press two fingers inside of me. It wasn’t my dominant hand, but anything in his presence would do. Until I could have him.

Seeing him on his knees begging to taste me, I had to come just so he would prove me wrong. The orgasms with him were something else entirely.

My hips rolled as the orgasm broke. It was a sweet release. Not the nasty, dirty, shattering undoing I craved from him.

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from mumbling his name like I had many nights before.

He grabbed the fat of my thighs and finally looked up at my face. “How was that?”

“Good,” I said sheepishly. The alcohol made lying far more difficult.

“Just good?” he asked, with a coy smile that saw right through me.

“Better.”

“Shall I remind you what an orgasm can feel like?”

I nodded and, cupping his jaw, guided his face to mine for a kiss as soft and simple as the way I’d just come.

Simple and yet quite the opposite.

“But first… I’m adding another spanking for lying.”

“Mmm,” I groaned, pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He swatted me away and, where I might have normally been self-conscious at being denied, it wasn’t because he didn’t desire me, that was clear. It was because he had other plans first. He sat on the sofa, his erection up to his belly button and pulled me over his lap on all fours.

“Seven. You’re going to count for me. You’re going to thank me for each one.”

“Yes,” I breathed.

The thwack sounded before I even finished the syllable. First, there was the noise. Then, the shock. Then, the sting. The lightest sting.

“Thank you,” I said and added, “for going so easy on me.”

He stiffened beneath me and I couldn’t contain my grin. He had called me a brat earlier.

Smack.

Right where he’d just hit. My body jolted forward, my elbows buckling.

“Thank you.”

Another. The pain became pleasure. “Thank you.”

Then he waited, rubbing where he’d got me, soothing it. “Your smart mouth is no longer so smart.”

Smack.

It was all of the anticipation. I didn’t just want seven. I wanted as many as he wanted to give me.

I was so wet and he searched for it as he forced my legs wider. “Keep that perky ass up.”

But with the next thwack, my elbows buckled again and my tits felt the silky skin of his erection beneath me. I pulled back to brush it with my lips.

“Leonie,” he warned.

I didn’t listen, taking the head of him into my mouth and sucking.

And for this spanking, he didn’t get my ass. Oh no, he got my pussy.

I yelped, his cock falling out of my mouth as the need for him to fill me took over. “Dom,” I begged.

“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you.”

“Thank you!” I blurted.

Then there was another sensation, something cold and hard ran over my ass, then he held it taunt between my crack. “Mm,” he moaned. “You’d look so good tied up with my belt.”

In the darkness, I hadn’t noticed him bring it with us.

And the fear nearly had me begging for more.

Not less.

Because that would be logical.

But he hit me with his palm again. The hardest by far. There were tears in my eyes as I counted the last one and cried out, “Thank you!”

“My pleasure, baby,” he said, his words thick with admiration as he massaged where he had hit. “I’m sure your ass is beautiful and red right now.”

I fucking hoped so.

Words failed me as he shoved two fingers inside my pussy and fucked me with them. I pushed back for each thrust, needing him inside me.

“Fuck me. Just fuck me now. Dom, please, I’m begging.”

“I thought you liked to be teased?” he asked as casually as if he were questioning whether I liked sugar in my tea.

“I like to get what I want.”

“And what is that?”

“You. Inside me. Now.”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds, instead fingering me harder. “I need a condom.”

“My—my bag.”

“Your bag?” he asked with a laugh as he pulled out and gently patted my ass for me to get up. He avoided where he had slapped me before.

I sat beside him, trying not to put too much pressure on my marks. “I may have been prepared for you to fuck me in the corridor by the toilets.”

In the darkness, he cocked a brow, searching through my bag and then gave up and just emptied it out on the floor.

When he went to turn on the lamp, I made a sound of protest that had him stop. “What?”

“Let’s do it in the dark.”

He turned it on and looked me up and down just as I did to him.

“I want to hear, see, feel you. I need to see your face as you come—ah, here it is,” he said, ripped the wrapper off and sheathed his cock. “How many of these have you got?” he asked as he unravelled it.

“Three more in my room,” I told him, tapping my toes against the coffee table, getting impatient.

“We’ll get some more,” he said and leaned over me.

“More? I thought your results come through tomorrow.”

“I don’t know what time tomorrow.”

If the prospect of us having sex three more times in the next twenty-four hours didn’t have my body ache for it, I may have laughed.

“Lie down,” he demanded, all the casual conversation gone from his voice.

I did as I was told, nibbling on my bottom lip.

“It should have been me,” he said, running his hands up my thighs. “I should have been the first to touch you. The first to taste you,” he ducked to run his tongue up my slit and I squirmed into his mouth. But it was just as he said, just a taste. Which he then shared with me as he kissed me, his tongue passing the flavour onto mine. “I should have been the first to fuck you.”

And he pressed into me, through to the hilt in one motion. I cried and shuddered at the intrusion. By the third stroke, I was ready and eager for more. But his thrusts were slow, pulling out so only the head of him stretched me wide. Then he’d slam in and my whole body would jerk, my tits bounce, my head spin. The only thing that didn’t move was our unwavering eye contact.

I pulled his hand to my throat and forced his grip to tighten. And it was all he needed to unleash himself. He pounded into me until I was wailing, crying, shouting for more.

Each time, he somehow managed to give it.

He pulled my legs up onto his shoulders and I yelped at how deep he was.

He filled me so completely.

“Fucking hell, Leonie,” he groaned and his fingers found my clit, not at all like how I had played with myself earlier.

His touch was rough and controlled at the same time. Measured and ruthless.

When I came, I shuddered and thrashed against him.

“Tell me,” he growled. “Who makes you come better? Me or you?”

“You,” I ground out. “You. You.”

It became a chant as he carried on, his breath in my ear, his teeth on my neck, his hands all over me. He held me, arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me so I dangled in the air, so he could rock me into him.