“Aha, yup,” she says and a look of importance that I thought these two days with me had slowly erased shows up on her face, like an old, unwelcome friend. “I’d like to make myself some tea,” she then adds but I’m not done with her yet.
“Conversation’s not over,” I rasp, “you were about to inform me on all your wonderful plans.”
“Do you have sugar by any chance?” she asks and I rub my temples in annoyance.
“Meadow...” I warn and she shrugs, heating up the water before rummaging my drawers for teabags and once she finds one, she gives it only three dips before taking it out again.
“I was thinking Miami.” She pours a scoop of sugar into her cup. “I like the sound of it anyway.Meadow in Miami. My sponsors would probably all go crazy, my deals would shoot sky high. On top of it,” she puckers her mouth, “I’d get a nice tan.”
“I prefer you pale.” Or tanned, provided that she gets sunkissed by the sun in Fates Falls rather than Miami.
She shrugs. “It’s time for a change, anyway.”
“That’s not a change. That’s you chasing those fake dreams again.” And true change is hard but necessary. “What you need to do is stay here.” With me.
Gasping, she shakes her head. “No, I can’t...”
Yanking the covers aside, I sit up at the edge of the bed, my back heaving from my ragged breaths and I grip the mattress with my fists. Why the fuck can’t she stay? With a sneer, covering my face I turn to her but she’s not watching me.
Her attention is elsewhere. She’s stretching her body, trying to put back the bowl of sugar on the shelf and it causes her shirt to slide up her thighs and I want to bury myself between them. Pin her down to me and this place so that the thought of her leaving, never crosses her mind.
This is the girl that’s been slowly driving me over the edge for over a year now. The one who sometimes on purpose would leave the door to her bedroom open, while only dressed in underwear, making my blood roast at her indiscretion. And now I have her here but this isn’t going the way I planned.
What I wanted was for her to realize that her place is here, with me and I thought that when she got attacked it would have scared her off the harshness of the city. I expected her to lean on me and for a while there it seemed like she would, seemed like her old life in the city was slowly leaving her mind.
But now it seems to have come back with full force and I curse, brushing my neck. Why can’t she see that she has been made for me?
Made for my strength, my extremeness, my life. To be fair I did give her a fair shot to not play with me. For a long time, I kept everything professional, barely glanced at her, barely even spoke to her.
It was she who insisted on provoking me, swirling around in front of me like a lavish, little luxury she thought I couldn’t afford. Little did she know I’m not the kind of man, little girls should play with. I’m the kind who takes what he wants and I wanther.
Growing up without a mother or sisters, I knew very little of femininity and my father wasn’t a man of many words but he told me one thing that stuck with me. He told me that I will know who my woman is, when she makes me feel like a hot iron is being shoved down my throat, stirring my insides every time I look at her.
And that’s how I feel every time I look at Meadow. It hurts. It burns. It rouses and moves me. And she thinks she can take all that away from me? She can’t and I get up from bed, prowling over to her.
She’s sitting on a chair, her smooth legs crossed, her lips are resting on the teacup and there’s a healthy shine on her cheeks.
Noticing me walking towards her, she looks up, panting in shock when her eyes go to my crotch. You’d think she’s never seen an erection before. Wait, that’s right and I smirk. She hasn’t.
“D...Dom...” she stutters, putting the cup down and she’s squeezing her thighs together in desperation, doing everything to protect that coveted innocence.
“D...Dom,” I repeat mockingly and she twitches. “Something bothering you?”
With her eyes fixed on my erection, she shakes her head before licking her lips. “You’re just so b...big. All of you.” Jerking, her eyes go to my face, making her add, “And you look different. You’re starting to g...grow a beard.”
Standing in front of her, I bend down, rasping, “Touch it.”
Her fingers curl but she shakes her head. “That’s okay...”
“Go ahead, touch it,” I insist and she hesitantly puts her hand up, about to touch it but I move my head giving her fingertips a nibble like a rabid animal and she lets out a yelp in shock.
I look at her with hard eyes, eyes that tell her that she is so much smaller than me and that she needs me and she responds, pulling down her quivering hand.
“That was so rude,” she breathes but her eyes are electric. Needy. “I should slap you for it.”
“Then slap me and I’ll spank the hell out of you for being a brat,” I warn and she gasps, that look in her eyes turning desperate.
“Don’t do that, Dom. I thought you were going to k...kiss me?” she whispers and her lips part like she wants me to. I don’t answer immediately, instead I graze my own lips along her face, her pretty,I’m too good for youface. But she doesn’t think that way anymore, her eyes exquisite when they look at me, her body soft against mine when I make her come closer.