by Madison, Mia
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
She relaxes and gives me a tiny smile. “Okay.”
“Good.” I nuzzle her neck, then nip her earlobe, drawing a gasp. “Because you’ve been a very naughty girl.”
Juliet shoves at me playfully. “Have not.”
“Not afraid to up the brat factor. I like it.” She giggles, then goes quiet as I maneuver her down over my lap. “What’s the rule?”
“If it’s too much, tell you.”
“Perfect.”
I start off slow and easy with gentle swats over her jeans, soothing the sting away in between. She barely even feels it, judging by her reactions, so I amp things up a little bit, listening to the changes in her breathing.
When I stand her up again a few minutes later, she actually looks disappointed … until I unzip her jeans. “That was phase one,” I explain.
“Ohh.” She lets me work her jeans down around her knees. I can’t even see her ass through her plain cotton panties once she’s over my lap again — and since when do I find those sexy? — but I know she’ll have a faint tinge of pink at the most.
As soon as I begin again, she starts making tiny little gasps that go straight to my cock. With her jeans out of the way, she can feel things a lot better. I want to warm her up gradually, so she doesn’t get scared and stop things early.
I’m so fucking hot for her by the time we get to phase three that I’m tempted to cut things short myself, but it’s even more tempting to find out what her limits are. With her panties down, I can finally appreciate her ass in all its glory.
“Gorgeous.” I smooth my hand over her skin, which is nicely pink. “Let’s try something different this time.”
“Like what?”
“Instead of you telling me if it’s too much, tell me if it’s not enough.”
Juliet shifts on my lap. “You mean … if I want you to spank me harder?”
“Uh-huh.”
She has to think about that for a few seconds. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
“What should I say, to tell you?”
“You can just say ‘more,’ unless you’d rather use a different word.”
“No, that works.”
It’s fucking fantastic that she’s trusting me this much already. If I give her control now, she’ll be more willing to explore with me next time. And there’s definitely going to be a next time.
I start off easy again, letting her get used to bare-bottomed spanking, taking things almost back to a phase one level before I move back up to phase two. My cock aches, but this is worth the patience.
Her jaw starts moving. She’s opening her mouth to speak, then closing it again. Probably fighting with the voices in her head that tell her good girls don’t ask to be spanked.
“Listen to your body, babe. Let it tell you what it needs.”
That works. Almost immediately, she says, “More.”
I smile and obey. I’m spanking her steadily now, but still not that hard. A couple of minutes later: “More.”
I ramp things up, and now we’re really getting somewhere. Her breathing’s jagged, the noises she’s making are louder, and her legs are doing the occasional twitch. Given that it’s her first time, I’m fucking delighted she’s gone this far with me.
She’ll be ready to test her limits the next time we play. If this is all we do tonight, I’ll be happy. But my princess, it turns out, is made of sterner stuff.
“More,” she tells me again, and my cock jerks as I comply. My arm’s not tired; I could do this all night. Her ass has gone from pink to red.
“Are you wet, baby?”
“Yes,” she whimpers.
Fuck, I’m hard. “You gonna come for me?”
“Oh god,” she moans. “More.”
“You sure, babe?”
“Yes.”
I don’t ask again. “Oh, fuck!” she yells, but she doesn’t tell me to stop. I take her at her word, or lack of word, and keep going, making sure to pay plenty of attention to her sit spots.
When the climax hits her, it’s like a nuclear bomb going off. She wails and kicks her legs while I keep spanking her, trusting her to tell me when it’s too much.
When she goes limp across my lap, I ease off and then stop, moving my hand in slow circles across her ass. That’s when she starts to cry, the secondary set of signals from her body needing their own release. I rub her back and her ass until her tears subside, too.
“You good, babe?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is husky. “That was, um—”
“Uh-huh.” It was the hottest spanking I’ve ever administered, that’s what it was. I have to keep reminding myself she’s new to all this, because fuck, the more I do with her, the more I want.
She shifts slightly. “Do, um, do you need to—?”
“Babe, my cock’s about to explode. But I can wait.”
“No,” she says quickly. “It’s okay.”
Since Juliet seems pretty good at knowing what she wants, I don’t argue with her. I help her to her feet, and we undress each other. She’s in a hurry to get my clothes off, which tells me she’s not just doing this for my sake.
When I slide a hand between her legs, her thighs are wet and her pussy’s slick. Fuck yes. Tumbling her onto the bed, I roll between her thighs and fill her with a single thrust.
She arches against me, her legs locking around my waist, and I start to drive into her slow and deep. Until she says, “More.”
Fuck. This woman.
I give her more, and more, her hips flying up to meet me stroke for stroke, and we fuck like bunnies on speed until she vises around me, her pussy holding my cock prisoner. I’ve never been happier to be trapped as I follow her over the edge into what feels like a ten-minute orgasm, her walls gripping me over and over, draining me dry.
Afterwards, I can’t move right away. I’m crushing her with my weight, but fuck, I’m wiped out. Juliet doesn’t seem to mind; she’s holding me against her, stroking my hair and my back.
When I can, I roll onto my side, bringing her with me, and touch my forehead to hers. “Fuck, babe.”
“Are you all right?” She sounds worried.
I smile. “Never better.” If she weren’t a brand-new ex-virgin, I’d be fucking her all night long. “You okay?”
She gives me a real smile, the first one I’ve seen from her. “Never better.”
“Good. Be right back.” I go to the bathroom, dampen a washcloth, and bring it back to clean her up. Then I tuck us under the covers, her back to my chest. “Night, princess.”
“Night,” she mumbles, sounding half asleep already.
One of the things you learn in the military is how to rest when you need to. I shut my brain down and let the darkness swallow me.
9
Just A Client
“Time to get ready, babe,” Nico says.
I lift my head from his chest. “Hmm?”
“We’re going to dinner.”
“We are?” I’m pretty sure he hasn’t mentioned it before, but whatever. “Okay.”
I start to climb out of bed, but Nico tugs me back, rolls me over, and kisses me. A long while later, I catch my breath long enough to say, “I’m not sure this qualifies as getting ready.”
“Mmm.” He nuzzles my throat. “We have time yet.”
“How much time?”
He looks at the clock on his nightstand and grumbles, “Not enough. All right, shower.” Scooping me out of bed, he drapes me over his shoulder and heads for the bathroom.
It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’ve been staying with Nico all week. We still don’t know who ran me off the road.
I gave him a list of names — everyone I could think of at Powell Construction who might possibly have been behind, or known about, what happened in accounting, from me seeing the suspicious vendor accounts to my computer getting shut down — but none of them owns a white SUV like the one that rammed me. He and Rafael looked into other
higher-ups at the company, too, and came up empty.
Until they figure out who’s responsible, I’m not allowed to go back there. I notified my department at college about what happened, and Nico talked to my supervisor at Powell. Both of them agreed that a temporary leave of absence was completely reasonable.
Nico still accompanies me everywhere I go. Nobody at school believes the attentive boyfriend act, because nobody’s boyfriend, no matter how devoted, follows them to all their classes. The mean girls hate me even more because, even if he’s not really my boyfriend, I’ve still got a guy who’s way hotter than anyone they’ve ever dated keeping me company. One of them tried to flirt with him, and he froze her with a single look.
When I wasn’t studying this week, or in class, or keeping him company while he did necessary stuff elsewhere, I was at home with Nico.
Having sex.
Lots and lots of sex.
Everything I’d ever been curious about, lots of things I’d never even thought about, and things I was sure I’d never, ever do … I’ve done it all now. Bondage, sex toys, every position imaginable in every room of the house, and more. Nico is very, very good at giving me pleasure, and I’m learning how to reciprocate.
My craving for him hasn’t diminished like I thought it would. If anything, it’s stronger. I keep thoughts about the future locked up in a titanium vault, buried under twenty miles of concrete. My stay in the now powers are growing stronger all the time.
When he turns on the spray and sets me down in the shower, I sink to my knees in front of him. Nico says, “Jules.” He’s the only person on the planet who’s allowed to call me that.
“I need to practice.” Licking my lips, I look up at him, water running down my face, one hand on his cock. I’m determined to master the art of deep-throating him.
“You know what’ll happen. If you make me come, I’ll want to make you come, and then we’ll be late.”
“It is actually okay for me to make you come without you returning the favor, you know.”
He scowls at me. I scowl back and swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, then swallow him down. Nico groans and tangles his hands in my hair, hissing out a breath as I hollow my cheeks.
I still can’t take all of him without gagging. When I finally worked up the courage, one day, to ask him if he was average-sized, he gave me a slow smile and said, “Not exactly.” But I’m not complaining.
I’ve just got a good rhythm going when he halts me and slowly, relentlessly, pulls me off his cock. Releasing him with a wet pop, I growl, “Not fair.”
“What’s not fair, princess, is you starting something you know we don’t have time to finish. That’s going on your balance sheet.”
I glare at him as he draws me to my feet, but it’s all part of the game. It turns out I love being spanked. A quick, not-too-intense session is a regular part of our foreplay now.
Of course, it doesn’t take much for him to get me going. One glance from his bedroom eyes and I start getting wet. You could say I’m extremely responsive where Nico Adamo is concerned.
When he pins me against the wall of the shower, I say, “I thought we didn’t have time.”
“I can bring you a lot faster than you can bring me, babe.” This is true. Nico has some serious stamina, while I seem to come more easily with every passing day.
He pushes inside me, and I moan, wrapping around him. Instead of building up speed, he keeps his pace slow and steady, eyes on mine as he thrusts. I’m not expecting my heart to crack open, and all those pesky feelings to start pouring out, but that’s what happens.
Tilting my head back, I close my eyes and cram all my emotions away, back into the deep freeze where they belong. Then I focus on my body, on what he’s making it feel, until I can stare back at him with good, honest lust in my heart.
It gets me through until I come, clamping around him, taking his seed. My birth control lies on the bathroom counter, and I take it every day, but we’ve never talked about it. Not that there’s anything to talk about, really.
Flings and babies don’t mix.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we leave the shower and start to dry off.
“My parents’ house.”
“What?” I stare him, towel in hand. “I don’t have anything but casual clothes, jeans and tops. I can’t go to dinner like that!”
His eyes get warm. “They won’t care.”
“That—” I feel like I’m going to have a seizure. “Can we please stop by my apartment so I can get something nicer to wear?”
“Babe. Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! This is—”
I stop short and close my eyes.
This is important, I was about to say. Like it’s essential for me to make a good first impression on his parents. And it would be … if I were his girlfriend.
I forgot that I’m not, despite the fact that I’m constantly locking away my feelings. Because besides all the sex, we’ve been cooking together, doing housework together, watching tv together. Living together, like real lovers do.
I forgot that I’m only his fuck toy.
“Never mind,” I say quietly, and walk past him without meeting his eyes.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, we’re on the road.
The hairline cracks in my emotional armor refuse to close. Even though I know it’s stupid, I’m nervous about meeting his parents.
I’m a client. Just a client. A girl he’s protecting. And, yes, screwing, but it’s not like he’s going to tell them that.
We pull up in front of a two-story ranch home. It’s lovely, recently painted and with a well-landscaped yard, but nothing palatial or showy. The street is lined with cars, and I wonder if someone’s having a party somewhere.
Nico comes around to open my door, and takes my hand as we’re walking up to the house. That confuses me; he doesn’t need to keep up the boyfriend act in front of his parents. When I try to tug my hand free, he won’t let go.
I scowl at him. He scowls back. And then his mother opens the front door.
She’s taller than I am, slender even after six children. Her eyes are a sparkling turquoise, her dark hair taking on its first hints of gray, her skin a warm golden brown. She must be in her sixties, but it’s easy to see in her the free-spirited young musician Nico’s father fell for.
I feel instantly inadequate. She’s a gorgeous, onetime rock-and-roller, and I’m a stick-in-the-mud accounting major. It’s a good thing I’m not really Nico’s girlfriend, because I’d never measure up.
Just a client.
“Please, come in.” Her smile is as warm and beautiful as the rest of her. “Welcome to our home.”
“Mama.” Nico bends down to kiss her cheek. “This is Juliet. My mother, Olivia.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say. “Thank you for having me.” I hold out my hand, but Olivia draws me into a gentle embrace, cheek to cheek, and I have to swallow past the lump in my throat.
“You’re just in time.” She leads us into a large, casually appointed room dominated by an enormous dining table. Milling around the room are something like fifteen other people, including Rafael and Dr. Sofia.
Nico somehow forgot to mention we were having dinner with his entire freaking family.
10
Cozy As A Crypt
Conversation halts as we come in. Everyone’s watching us with blatant interest. Rafael gives me a look that says he knows exactly what we’ve been up to this week.
My mother takes Juliet over to my father, who bows over her hand in courtly fashion. “I’m Raul Adamo. It’s a pleasure to have you in our home.”
Juliet flushes, looking pleased but flustered. “Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Please, sit.” He pulls out a chair right next to him, and Juliet winds up between him and Rafael. No point complaining, so I take an empty chair across from her.
Just as we’re all settled into our seats, the doorbell r
ings. “I’ll get that,” I say, rising from the table. Juliet looks quizzical; everyone else’s expressions convey varying degrees of suspicion.
My family knows me well.
I open the door to my friend Ricardo Valenzuela, aka Rick. He’s in full biker regalia, tattoos on display. His Harley is parked at the curb. “Come on in, man. Glad you could make it.”
I lead him into the dining room and say, “Everyone, this is my friend Rick. Rick, these are some of my family.”
My father goes to get another chair. I give my brother Daniel a meaningful look and tilt of the head, and he smiles. A few moments later, Rick just happens to be sitting right in between Daniel and my cousin Sofia.
I happen to know that Sofia is exactly Rick’s type — and, though she tries to deny it, he’s exactly hers. He’s eyeing her like she’s dessert, and she’s trying to ignore him, but that won’t last because Rick could charm a nun out of her habit.
Sofia can thank me later.
My mother says, “Nico, why don’t you introduce everyone to our guests.”
“Hi,” I say, and reach my hand across the table. “I’m Nico.” Juliet gives me an I’m going to kill you look; Daniel snickers.
Rafael, ever the gentleman, sends me a steely-eyed glance and takes over the introductions. First, my brothers: Daniel, Gabriel, Enzo, and Stefano. The first three give her smiles and proper greetings. Stefano makes the briefest possible eye contact and lifts his chin in acknowledgment.
Juliet notices that, of course, and I see the wheels turning in her head, but she politely overlooks it. “Next,” Rafael goes on, “we have our father’s brother, Francesco Adamo; his wife, Martina; and their children Leonardo, Sofia, Giovanni, Viola, and Vincenzo.”
“There’s not going to be a quiz, is there?” Juliet says, smiling, after all the pleasantries are concluded. “I’m better with numbers than names.”
“There will definitely be quizzes,” Gabriel responds.
“Multiple-choice, though,” Daniel chimes in. “So you’ll at least have a shot.”
