Chapter 15

Fifteen

MARISSA

Xavier makes dinner for us every night but, despite my lack of cooking skills, I was determined to try a new recipe after watching a tutorial. Pulling it up on my phone, I try to follow the instructions. Xavier turns on some jazz over the speaker system and pours wine for us both, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Are you not going to watch sports?” I ask as I rinse the risotto.

He eyes the chicken I’ve set aside on the cutting board. “No. I’d rather watch you.”

With a snort, I cut off the ends of the asparagus. “You do that all the time.”

He’s quiet, and when I glance up, I see it’s because he’s biting his bottom lip as if to keep from laughing. “Yeah, but it’s not enough. Beautiful, you want me to help you chop those up?”

I wave my knife at him with a grimace on my lips. He’s trying not to laugh at my cutting skills. “No. I can do it! You go away! I don’t want you to judge me!”

Now, his laugh escapes like a waterfall as his arms surround me. His body is near, but not touching. “I have all the faith in the world you’ll do great! I’m trying to help. I’m hungry, that’s all.” But the gleam in his eyes as he spins away toward the living room, popping a grape in his mouth, says differently. “By the way…catch.”

Turning, he tosses a red seedless globe at my mouth, and I bob to capture it with my teeth. “Score!” I throw my hands up in victory, and his eyes crinkle at the corners before he switches off the music and puts on some sport on the flat screen. Despite sinking into the couch, his eyes don’t really leave my hips, and I can tell his head keeps twisting to look back at me.

We’ve developed a nice couple’s routine. Most afternoons, we study together in the library until dinner. Sundays are pizza and wine nights alone with my girls, but Xavier sneaks into my room through the fire escape and waits in my bed until I return. Tuesdays, the “popular kids” all head to Manny’s and take over a corner downstairs by pushing several tables together. I’ve noticed Kinsley getting cozy with a certain TRZ named George, or “Big G,” as everyone calls him, and Sharice is definitely over Tyson. Fridays, we all hit up the only nightclub in town.

When the food’s all ready, he jumps up to set the table for us and pours more wine. While I light a couple of candles, he throws another log on the fire to create a cozy environment. I wave my hands in front of the dishes proudly.

Xavier sits on the bench with a big grin and pulls me down on his lap. Serving up some chicken and risotto in two bowls, we both take a steamy bite. Then almost spit it out. A pungent and tart flavor rakes across the back of my tongue.

“Oh my god. I think I used white vinegar instead of the wine.”

Xavier shovels in about three bites, but his cheeks sink in like he’s trying not to taste it as he inhales. “A-amazin’,” he mumbles, with his mouth completely full.

“It’s inedible!” When he tries to reach for the last bite in his bowl, I stop him. “Don’t eat that! Oh, Xavier, I’m sorry.”

His chest shakes on my back as he chuckles. “Kitten, it’s good. It’s so good.” Choking back a cough, he asks, “Can I have more water?”

When I stand to get us more to rid the pungency from our mouths, he has tears in his eyes from stifling his laughter. All I can do is shake my head and join in. “Sorry. I think I got my mom’s genes on that. I tried.”

He presses his lips to my temple, then chugs his water. I dig through, finding unaffected chicken pieces when he grows quiet for a moment.

“How’s therapy?” he asks.

Ever since dinner at my parents’ house, I’ve been going to the student counseling center. When I realized Xavier has been the most supportive person in my life, it encouraged me to make my first appointment. Swallowing my bite, I decide to tell him something about it. He’s been so curious. “We’re talking about my parents and…what happened to me as a kid. And I know it’s supposed to help, eventually, but right now, it just makes me resentful of them.”

Xavier nods, his black hair falling across his forehead. His hand strokes some stubble that’s grown along his jaw. “So no family dinners?”

I chew another bit of chicken and shake my head. “I want to have a good relationship with them. I just need to learn how to, um, forgive them.”

His arms wrap around me as he rests his chin on my shoulder, seeming sad. Here I am, complaining about my parents, when he’s lost his mother. “I think it’s important to keep them in your life. But I’m behind whatever decision you make. Marissa, I can be your family.”

The words strike me until my heart stutters a beat, and everything inside me warms up. Twisting on his lap, I place my palm against his cheek and his eyes close at the connection. It comes out like a hesitant whisper, but I say, “I want to be your family. Xavier, I know you lost yours, and I can’t imagine the pain that must have caused you. So use me. I’m here for you.”

As if that’s exactly what he needed to hear, his eyelids squeeze for a moment before his lips tap the end of my nose briefly. “Let’s get started on making our own right now.” Shifting his hips, his thickening erection hits my thigh, and I slap his arm. But it doesn’t stop me from considering it.

He sets to work on cleaning up, while I sulk that I didn’t learn enough culinary skills to impress my boyfriend. “You’re perfect at everything. It’s nauseating,” I tell him as he flips a couple of spatulas in his hand like a circus show for me as he stuffs them in the dishwasher.

“Like sex? Perfect at fucking you?”

Smiling, I remember him waking me this morning with his stiff dick already buried deep inside me. “You’re…okay at it.”

He narrows his eyes as he draws his gaze over my breasts, even tilting his head to stare at my ass on the seat. Everywhere he looks erupts with goosebumps. “I guess I could use more practice, huh?”

My belly flips, but I announce, “I need to finish my project before your head goes there. I’m going downstairs to paint.”

After dinner, I’ve been working on my school projects while he does some work for his classes in the studio he made for me.

“Fine. But I want you naked.” When my jaw drops, he shrugs. “I like to watch you work.”

Ambling down the twisted staircase, I smile at his suggestion and start stripping. By the time I make it to the studio, I’m bare and a bit cold, but don the apron as my protection. After only a few minutes, I hear him enter and perch at a little desk set up in the corner. His laptop is open, but his eyes only study me.

With a smirk and a toss of my hair over my shoulder, I pretend to continue my weekly project, but it’s difficult. It’s like I can hear the blood rushing to his cock with every movement I make. Eventually, with my earbuds in place, I get some work done. Just as I enter the zone, I feel the warmth of his body approach me from behind.

His hands trail down my arms as I stroke paint on the canvas, then gently clutch mine until his fingers pinch the brush in my hand. “I want to paint you in other ways.” Tilting my head with a press of his cheek against it, his lips shoot tingles down to my core as he kisses along my neck. He removes my earbuds, then gathers my body close to his, pulling my ass onto his firm erection. A loud moan escapes my parted mouth.

When my head tilts back onto his shoulder, I close my eyes and revel in the firmness of his chest and wooded scent. Smooth, hard leather wraps around the base of my neck, and when I stand to figure out what’s going on, Xavier clasps it behind me. My fingers gravitate toward it, and a little metal bell chimes as I move.

“My little kitten needs a collar so she understands she’s mine,” he says against my ear, and the thought of being treated like his pet makes me gush and melt into him. “Only thing that’s missing is a leash.” Moving my hair out of the way, he clips on the metal hook of a long lead to the back of my neck, and it falls down my back, a cool handle hitting my ass as I leap forward.

The apron falls to the floor when he unties it, then he’s gone. When I peek over my shoulder, he’s sitting on his desk chair and pats his open thighs, the stretch of the leash connecting us. “Get on all fours, kitten.”

I wiggle down to my knees with a little smile, then place my palms on the hardwood.

“Ah, ah. Lift your head. No pet of mine would look so downtrodden.”

Tossing my hair back, I gaze into his eyes and a corner of his lips jerk up into a smirk, making me even more wet than I had been before. Something about this position causes me to need him desperately, especially when he gives a sharp tug on the metal links of the leash.

“Crawl to me.”

Ever-so slowly, I let my hips sway while doing just as he commanded. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobs as he swallows, his eyes taking in my form as if it’s a prize, and the look he has for me makes me feel that I am. It’s so very different from the way I was in previous relationships, always feeling that I had to be better. That I wasn’t enough. Just the rapid rise and fall of Xavier’s chest lets me know…I do it for him and he wants me.

And I want to please him.

At the base of the chair, between his feet, he leans forward and places his lips on the top of my head. “Fuck, you’re such a good pet. So obedient. Now I want you to sit up and beg.”

Rising to my knees, I lift my hands as if I’m his kitten and give him my most pleading eyes. All I want is for him to fill me with that bulge tenting in his jeans. I crave it, ache for it, knowing it’s the key to my most extreme pleasure.

“Please,” I say. Part of me knows it won’t be enough for him…but I also love to hear his instructions.

“Please what, kitten?”

“Please, master. Please fuck me?”

One palm rubs his cock through his pants as he just tugs on the leash a bit more and groans. “Lay on your back and spread your thighs for me. Show me your pussy. I need to inspect it.”

When I do just as he says, he sits for what feels like a long time with one hand resting on his chin, staring at my lips between my legs. As if he’s memorizing it from afar. It makes my skin hum and sing, and I twist uncomfortably as my clit pulses under his examination.

“Don’t move.” The chain slinks as he stands, then gathers up some soft rope from the cabinet above the desk. “Place your hands together above your head.”

Quickly, I move into the position he wants, hoping he’ll hurry to get inside me. It’s only been hours since we were together last, and I miss the feel of him. He deftly wraps the cord around my wrists. Leaning over my face, his blue eyes hold my gaze. “What do you say to stop?”

“Red,” I say.

With a tug on the collar, he smiles broadly. “Good girl.”

Turning his back, he walks over to the desk again and grabs something from the counter. When he returns, he kneels between my thighs and holds up one of my clean brushes. Still holding the leash in one hand, he uses the silky strands of the end to paint my folds and my hips jut into the air as I whimper. With a few more strokes of the brush, I’m panting, my neck arching back with every caress he gives me. His face turns from amused to heated with serious lust.

“I want to coat your pussy with my cum, kitten. Do you want it?”

“Please! Please!” I have to have him inside or every atom will erupt. Desperation leaks from me, along with my arousal.

He tugs off his shirt and tosses it to the corner, his ripped chest and abs flexing as he does. It only makes me feel like I may catch fire. Scooting closer, he opens the fly of his jeans, and his veiny cock bobs out when he pulls down his boxer briefs. Looping the long leash in his hand, he pulls until I’m almost sitting as he thrusts inside.

Screaming at the satisfaction he finally affords me, my eyes squeeze closed until he pats my cheek with his palm. “Open. Look at me while I own this pussy.”

Writhing against him, I do as he commands. Every push in is met with the tug of the leash against my neck. It won’t take me long until I’m seeing stars.

“Just my little fuck pet now, aren’t you? Look at you all obedient, wearing my collar and leash. Mine to impregnate with a litter of kittens, right? Isn’t that what you want?”

Moaning, I tuck my lip under my teeth, unsure of what to say. I never understand if he’s serious or not. I know he wants children and I want them to, but sometimes, I worry about the timing. Only, when he’s so deep inside me, toying with the spot that makes my brain turn off, I want to be his breeding pet and let him do whatever he wants.

“Say it. Say you’re my little fuck hole. That’s all you are now.”

“Yes, master. I’m your fuck hole.”

With a smile, he yanks on my chain until our lips meet and he breathes into my parted mouth. “Say you want me to fill you with my babies, Marissa. I need to hear it.”

Some ungodly sounds filter through my throat as I climax. One of his palms grips my back to pull me even closer to him as I wail, “Yes, please! Fill me!”

“Oh, fuck.” Unable to hold back himself, his cum stretches me full as I pulse around his thickness. His throbbing length hits my spot and every muscle I have clings to it inside, not letting him move. As I slump back, he holds me upright with the leash, but pulls out and coats the rest of his cum on my pussy lips while holding the base of his dick. “Oh yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Painted, just like that. My perfect portrait. You’re my masterpiece.”

When he lets me lie against the floor, he slides from between my legs. I attempt to shut them, but he taps them open. “Nope. I need a memory of this.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and takes a picture of just my core, coated with his cum. Reaching behind me, he unhooks the leash, unties my hands, and unbinds my collar, then gathers me up in his arms.

Lacing my fingers through his hair, I hold on as he carries me upstairs and to our bed. I slide under the sheets as he undresses, then gets in beside me. “No washing that off all night. Let it do its job,” he says, pecking my forehead.

I giggle, then reach across to my purse on the nightstand and take a birth control pill while he gets me a glass of water from the side table carafe. When he turns off the light, I slide into his embrace.

“I want every night to be like tonight,” I tell him and feel his lips part into a smile on my shoulder.

“Me, too, kitten.”