Domesticated Read online

  “Good girl, you can take it out now,” he said, rewarding my kiss.

  My heart fluttered a couple times when I firmly ran my hand down his shaft and pulled the elastic, releasing the prettiest thing I have ever seen in my life. Keeping my eyes on his rock hard rod, I stroked it while my pussy begged for it. I wanted Sam’s cock inside me so badly.

  “You want it?” Sam teased, shifting his hips a little. He didn’t look at me when I looked up. He kept his eyes on my hand stroking his cock.

  “Yes,” I whined like a lovesick little girl.

  “Get on your knees.”

  HALLELUJAH!

  I dropped to my knees and squeezed a bead of come to his head.

  “Lick it off, Kendra.”

  I closed my eyes and did just that, right before slipping him between my lips. His head grazed across my tongue and I sucked, lightly at first, and then more urgently. Yes. This was what I needed. All of this. I loved having a dick in my mouth. I loved the way it felt, and I loved it even more when Sam placed his hand on the back of my head and fucked my mouth. Going balls deep, I took all of him to the back of my throat. I gagged a couple times, but I felt like it added to the eroticism. I’m sure Sam thought the same. Every time I gagged, Sam moaned and did it again.

  Sam held my head while he steadied himself deep in my throat and then pulled completely out of my mouth. Taking his shaft in his hand, he lifted it toward his chest. “Suck on my balls,” he rasped. I couldn’t take much more. I needed to come.

  I did what I learned from watching pornography and sucked, taking one, and then both of them in my mouth until Sam once again moved away from me and pulled me to my feet.

  “Take your clothes off,” he commanded. I liked dominating Sam. I loved dominating Sam.

  Sam stepped out of his jeans and leaned against the sink, stroking himself while I frantically undressed. Okay, maybe I didn’t like dominating Sam.

  “Slow.”

  I slowed my trembling fingers, and literally felt a trickle between my thighs. That’s how wet I was. I didn’t have much to remove. I wasn’t wearing panties. That left me with my sundress and pink lace bra.

  “You have the sexiest breasts I have ever seen. Would you like your nipples to be sucked?” Jesus. Where the hell was this Sam hiding?

  “Yes,” I responded, squirming in my invisible pants.

  “Tell me to, Kendra.”

  “Okay, stop for a second. You have to stop calling me Kendra. Let’s use a pet name when we’re doing this.”

  “Okay, what would you like for me to call you when I am making you tell me to suck on your nipples?”

  Jesus. My pussy was going to explode soon. “Hmm, how about Sewer Rat?”

  Sam gave me a peculiar look with a frown. “I’m not going to call you a sewer rat. How about something a little less harsh. I’ll compromise with mouse.”

  Hmm? I pondered. “Okay, that works.”

  “Tell me to suck your nipples, Mouse.”

  I liked it. Mouse worked just fine. “Suck on my nipples, Sam,” I pleaded.

  “Touch them, squeeze the roundness and then pinch your nipples, and then I may let you come over here and put them in my mouth.”

  I crossed my legs needing some sort of contact, and played with my nipples while Sam stroked himself and watched. Just having him watch was a turn-on.

  “Open your legs and twist your nipples.”

  I did.

  “Harder.”

  I did, only this time, I moaned. I read about this. Nipple orgasms. I thought it was a bunch of crap, but now thought it could be very possible. Experiencing an orgasm without any genital touching whatsoever seemed perplexing to me. I thought it impossible to orgasm without any vaginal stimulation. It wasn’t the same as a genital orgasm, but I no doubt felt it there. It may have lasted twenty seconds. The wave-like feeling I get from genital stimulation wasn’t as pronounced as this, but the wave definitely traveled there. I moaned and felt another trickle.

  Sam walked to me and bent at the knees. I moaned again when I felt the head of his cock come between my legs, making direct contact with my clitoris. He kissed my lips and then replaced the twisting finger on my nipples with his lips. Between the sucking on my sensitive nipples and the unbelievable sensations he was causing below, I was doomed. I would have done anything the man told me to do at that moment.

  “You want me to fuck your pussy, Mouse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Show me your pussy. Show me how you play with it,” Sam requested, walking me backward to the vanity chair. I had no choice but to sit. “Spread your legs, Mouse. Rub your pussy for me.”

  I spread my legs as wide as I could, lifting my feet to the bench, and rubbing happily in the area needing the most attention. Sam stood above me and stroked his cock while his lustful eyes watched my fingers dancing with my clit.

  “Aahh,” I moaned, rubbing harder, faster, and with more vigor as my head fell back and my eyes closed.

  “Yeah, baby. Make it come for me,” Sam spoke lustfully above me.

  I called out like never before. I was screaming in crazy erotic bliss. The view of Sam frantically stroking his cock while I came and then the feel and sight of his come releasing on my breasts was sensational.

  “Rub it in, Mouse,” he coaxed, moving my hands.

  I did. For the first time in my twenty-nine years, I rubbed a man’s come around my nipples. I fucking loved it.

  Sam didn’t put anything inside me. We took a shower. I kept waiting for it, but it never happened. He joked with me, played around in the shower, acted silly, and asked his imprudent questions again. I didn’t want to talk about my life. I wanted his dick inside me.

  “Will you stop looking at it? It’s not going to touch you yet.”

  “Obviously,” I smartly replied. I couldn’t help it. My eyes wanted to go there. I had never seen one soft like that before. Some of the porn I watched had a guy or two that were half-masts, but they didn’t just hang down loosely like that. It was cute.

  “You act like you’ve never seen a penis before. I know that’s a lie.”

  “Why do you think that’s a lie?” I asked shifting my eyes to his cute, lazy penis to his eyes.

  “Ha-ha. I have never met anyone as wild as you. You’re a little crazy when it comes to your lady parts.”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” I assured him, moving him out of the way with my wet body so I could rinse the soap from my hair.

  “Tell me.”

  “Let’s go back to shore. I’m hungry.”

  “We have food here. We’re staying on the water tonight. Tell me what I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know a lot of things,” I replied, closing my eyes and letting the water rinse the soap from my tilted head. I purposely arched my back, trying to draw the attention to my breasts and not my life. I just wanted sex and a spanking, or two, not a life coach.

  Sam surprised me again. He backed me against the gray slate tile and kissed me while both of his hands covered my breasts. “You’re going to tell me. By the end of summer, I am going to know everything there is to know about you,” he whispered to my lips.

  “Why, Sam?” I feebly responded. My knees felt weak again. I was beginning to think I was allergic to his kisses, his amazing, touch-the-stars kind of kisses.

  “I want to know you. You fascinate me, and I want to know everything about you.”

  “Why does it matter? You’re going back to your life and I’ll go back to mine. This is just a game. You know that?”

  “Yes, but I get to make the rules and I want to know you. I have to know you. I have never been that guy that can walk in a bar and take a chick home just to get my dick wet.”

  “You could so do that,” I teased, skimming his body with my eyes.

  “So could you. Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Sleep around on your husband a lot?”

  I snorted and moved around him. “You said we were staying
on the boat tonight. Does that mean you’re going to finally fuck me?”

  “No, answer my question.”

  “What Sam?” I asked, peeking back around the half-closed door while he lathered soap, scrubbing his hair. “Do I sleep around on my husband? No. I’ve never done that before. You’re the only man who has ever touched me there. You’re the only man who I have ever kissed,” I said, giving the dumb boy what he wanted. He was never going to fuck me if I didn’t, and at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Of course, you don’t. I’m going out,” I called, checking out his package one more time before leaving him alone. I never witnessed that before, either. I giggled at the way it shook with his body while he scrubbed his head.

  “What are you doing?” Sam asked, moving behind me in his jeans, no shoes, and shirtless. Holy fucking hell. He moved behind me and kissed the side of my neck.

  “Trying to figure out how to work this thing,” I replied, tilting my head for him. Hmm, I liked being kissed there and I liked him behind me, his body so close to mine.

  Sam stayed behind me and taught me how to make coffee. I wasn’t dumb; I had a law degree. I was very educated. I could have figured out how to make coffee, but I didn’t want to. I liked Sam behind me, instructing me.

  “You really are a spoiled rich bitch, aren’t you,” he teased, doing that thing with his lips on my neck again. His soft warm lips sent chills down my spine every time he did that.

  “You really have to back off. You can’t keep doing this if you’re not planning on fucking me anytime soon.”

  “All good things come to those who wait. We have all summer.”

  “No. No we don’t,” I assured him, spinning in fury. Screw that. I was paying him good money to fuck me and by golly, that’s what I was going to get.

  “Yes we do. I’m going to check the radar. I don’t like the looks of that sky. Bring me a cup of coffee, too,” Sam requested, leaving me to watch the slow drip. This was crazy. This wasn’t how I planned it. Why the hell did he get to call all the shots? It wasn’t fair. I internally whined to myself while I waited to be a servant to the sex slave I was paying.

  “You suck at this. You’re the worse sex Dom in the world,” I assured him, handing over his coffee. He took it and kissed my forehead.

  “We’ll see. Change of plans. We’re not staying on the boat. There are some pretty bad storms coming in over the next few hours. We better just stay on dry land tonight, maybe tomorrow night.”

  “Are you staying with me?” I asked, hopeful. I didn’t want to be alone with storms coming in from the Pacific coast. They could be treacherous and downright scary. I have been alone many times here when they hit. I didn’t like it and I didn’t want to be alone.

  “I was planning on it. Is that okay?”

  “Sure, whatever,” I nonchalantly, agreed, sipping my coffee. Hmm. I was a good coffee maker.

  By the time we made it back to shore, the waves were getting higher and you could feel it in the way the yacht went up and back down. I was suddenly feeling ill and wanted off.

  “How much longer?” I asked, seeing the shore so close. Why the hell was it taking so long?

  “Ten minutes. You okay? You don’t look so well.”

  “I’m not. Get me off this thing,” I begged.

  “Hang in there,” Sam said, taking my hand while he steered the boat himself now.

  By the time Sam had the boat secured, there was a deluge of rain coming down. I stayed inside the cabin while Sam secured the boat. He was soaked with water dripping from him while I watched him tie off the yacht and tighten the ropes. I hated the thought of joining him when he came to retrieve me.

  Not that it helped, but I backed against the overhang while he locked up. I was already soaked by the time he took my hand and led me across the walk-bridge. The wind whipped my hair right to my eyeball, making it even harder to see through the blistering wind and rain. I swore it was Noah’s second coming with the way it was raining. Gullies were formed in the sand, running together and then to the ocean.

  “I can’t believe you got us caught in a storm like that,” I accused, letting water run to the hardwood floor. Sam laughed and started stripping clothes. I didn’t think it was a bit funny. We could have died out there. “What kind of captain doesn’t check the radar for the weather report?” I yelled, sliding out of my own clothes.

  “The kind that has this beautiful blonde obstructing his rational way of thinking,” he admitted, pulling me to his naked body and transparent, wet briefs.

  “I hate you. And now I’m cold again.”

  “I’m sure you have a tub big enough for two in this place? Jesus, this place is amazing,” he acknowledged, letting me go. Sam stared up at the great room ceiling. I don’t know the dimensions, but I know it was a lot. The chandelier itself was at least fifteen feet in the air. I watched his tight ass walk around my house, taking it all in. That was the first time I became curious about his life, where he lived, and what he did on a daily basis. I shook it off by going in to the main bathroom on the first floor to run a tub of water. The downstairs tub was a little bigger than mine in the master suite.

  Garrison thought it was a good idea for when we had company, which was once a year. The dreaded Fourth of July weekend with Angelica, her snobby teenagers, and a couple of the other snobby bitches that reminded me too much of my stepmother to enjoy their company.

  “You should go out to the garage and get us a bottle of wine,” I suggested when I looked up, seeing Sam looking way too fine through the mirrored wall behind the tub.

  “We’re not drinking wine, only beer, remember?”

  “Fine, Sam. You go out there and get us some beer.”

  “Hmmm, wine sounds amazing. I’ll be right back.”

  I smiled and lit a few candles around the room. It wasn’t for the romantic atmosphere I was trying to create. I always lit candles when I soaked in the tub with a glass of wine. My eyes shifted when I heard the music being piped through the speakers in every room of the house. I smiled when I heard him singing “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith. Although I didn’t know most of his classic rock, I did know that one from college.

  Sam handed me a glass of wine and looked around, observing the room and soaking in the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. “This is nice,” he said, removing the last of his clothing before joining me on the other side. I couldn’t imagine doing this with Garrison. I thought it was nice, too. I had my favorite wine, favorite scent, and a non-compliant boy toy. What more could a girl ask for.

  “You know you have a Porsche in your garage?” he asked, making a face from the wine.

  “Yeah, it was delivered today while you were trying to kill me in a hurricane.”

  “This is not a hurricane. You were never close to dying.”

  “How do you know? I probably have pneumonia as we speak. I’ve probably only got a few days to live, maybe a week, and it’s all your fault,” I joked. Where did all this playfulness come from? I didn’t joke. I didn’t have a sense of humor. Humor and fun were a waste of a good mind. I heard that from Adriana countless times growing up. It always stuck with me, until now, anyway.

  “Why do you have to be married?” Sam questioned, knocking the breath clean out of me.

  “Don’t do that, Sam. This is nothing. We both have lives that we’re going back to. Don’t make it about something that it’s not.”

  “Okay, come here.”

  “Come where? I am here.”

  “Come over here with me. You’re too far away.”

  I shouldn’t have done it. I should have stayed on my own side. I never felt anything like this. Leaned against Sam’s strong chest with his legs over mine, sipping wine while his fingers traced my arm and his lips kissed my hair left me feeling like…like I don’t know what, like nothing I had ever felt in my entire life—ever. And it scared the hell out of me.

  “Do you have a family? Broth
ers or sisters?” Sam asked.

  Dammit. Why the hell did he have to go and ruin it? I was enjoying the smell of my favorite scent, my favorite wine, and the feel of being in a man’s arms. I took an exasperating breath and answered. “I have a sister. She just turned twenty-three, but I haven’t seen her in years. I don’t know if she even remembers me. She’s my half-sister.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “My dad died and my real mother lives in New York City. I wasn’t raised with her.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. Because my dad won me in the divorce, I guess. Do we have to talk about that? Do you have brothers or sisters?”

  “Yes. We’re like the Brady Bunch.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, moving my hand to his. He traced my fingers with his index finger, up and down each one.

  “My dad died, too, leaving my mom with me, my brother, and two older sisters. I was three when she met Mike, my stepdad. Mike was widowed, too, and brought Missy and Jerod into the family.”

  “Wow. There were six of you?”

  “Yeah, it was interesting.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Very. Maybe you can meet them when they come for the Fourth. We all get together at Uncle Fat’s. The family is a lot bigger now with all the nieces and nephews. It’s a lot of fun.”

  “I won’t be meeting your family, Sam,” I assured him, wishing just a little that I could. It had to be better than the Fourth I was going to have.

  “How did your dad die?” Sam asked, ignoring my comment.

  “Complications due to a car wreck, yours?”

  “He was electrocuted. He was a lineman, out trying to kill a live wire that had fallen in a neighborhood during a storm like this.”

  “I’m sorry, that’s horrible.”

  “I don’t really remember him. Sometimes I think I do when I see his picture, but then I feel like it’s just something I was conditioned to remember and it’s not real. If that make sense.”

  “It does,” I replied, letting my knee drop to the side, hoping he would take the hint and touch me. He did. My knee. UGH. This man needed a billboard with instructions on how to be a Dom.