by Layla Frost
Nothing about this seems simple.
“Are there rules and a contract?” I asked.
“There are rules, but I’m not big on wasting time and energy producing a bullshit contract that isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. We’d communicate like any other relationship.”
I flipped the fork back and forth, pressing the prongs down on the cake crumbs as I gathered my nerves. “Do you, uh, share or loan out your—”
“Fuck no.” Maximo’s eyes blazed as he pinned me with an intense stare. “If you’re mine, you’re mine.”
That was all well and good, but it didn’t mean there weren’t a dozen other women spread about, loyal to him while he alternated between them.
I swallowed. “And you’re…”
“Every fucking bit as much yours.”
I had to force myself to breathe past the hammering in my chest and the thrumming of my clit.
Maximo must’ve misconstrued the tension that’d infused my body because his expression softened. “We can finish this conversation another time. Eat your cake and relax.”
I nodded but didn’t eat, my thoughts too busy racing. After a minute, I asked, “Is it only in the bedroom? Scenes or whatever?”
“No. It’s not playtime for kicks and giggles. It’s twenty-four-seven. If you agree, it will be your life until you decide you don’t want it to be anymore.”
“How would that work once I move out?”
His jaw clenched. “You won’t be moving out.”
“I can’t stay here.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I’m eighteen.”
“And?”
“And I’m old enough to be on my own. Get a job. All that. I can’t just stay here and… what? Be your whore?”
Slamming a palm down on the table, he held up two tattooed fingers on his other hand. “That’s twice now you’ve insinuated I need to buy it. I don’t pay for pussy, and you’re sure as fuck not a whore. Whatever asinine notion you’ve twisted around in your head, get it out of there. Now.”
His words helped wipe away the shame that’d been festering. The little voice in my head that’d said I was wrong to be intrigued by what he offered. That I was a whore for wanting it.
I focused on my plate. “I just don’t understand this.”
“Look at me.” Once I did, he asked, “What part?”
“What would I do?”
“You’d do what I say. Beyond that, swim. Read. Sew. Do whatever the hell you want.”
“What do you get out of it?”
“Other than you? I get to take care of you.”
“And that’s worth all this?” I asked, not understanding how taking care of me was beneficial to him.
Leaning back, he rubbed his jaw, his thumb sweeping across his bottom lip. “Oh, little dove, it’s more than fucking worth it.”
If it were possible to spontaneously orgasm, I was sure I would have.
Trying to stay on track, I asked, “The stuff you’d tell me to do… is it unusual? Like, do you have a fetish?”
“Fucking Christ,” he muttered, but he didn’t sound insulted, so that was good. “No, Juliet. I’m not going to ask you to dress in a gimp suit and beat the shit outta me or anything like that.”
“Gimp suit?”
“Never mind. What I’m saying is, all things considered, my tastes are fairly tame.”
“Except you like complete control over everything,” I deadpanned.
But Maximo didn’t take it as a joke and merely lifted his chin in agreement. “Except that.”
I was glad he wasn’t into anything weird, but I still wasn’t sure I could do the basics. I’d never had sex. I could be awful at it.
It was entirely possible he was going all-in to win a five-buck pot.
Inhaling deeply, I blurted in a rushed whisper, “I’ve never had sex or done much of anything.”
At his quiet curse, a pit formed in my belly.
He’s gonna change his mind.
And I’m disappointed.
Why am I so disappointed?
“Look at me,” he ordered.
And what is his obsession with eye contact?
Still, I did as he said and was relieved to see a satisfied smile curving his lips. “I’ll teach you what I like.” His smile grew into a wolfish grin. “More importantly, I’ll teach you what you like.”
Definite spontaneous orgasm.
At my silence, he prodded, “What else are you confused about?”
“It seems abrupt.”
“It’s not.”
“We don’t know anything about each other,” I pointed out.
“What would you like to know?”
I thought for a moment before starting with the basics. “What’s your favorite color?”
His lips tipped. “Gray.”
Makes sense since that seems to be where he lives.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
That was about what I figured, but it was still surprising.
“That’s young to own resorts and,” I gestured around, “all this.”
“I inherited three of my four properties, though I’ve worked hard to build them up and make them my own.” He gave a similar gesture around. “And they do well.”
That’s an understatement.
“Is your family around?”
I couldn’t imagine family dinners happening while I’d been locked upstairs, but I had no idea.
“No. I’m an only child and my mother passed away seven years ago.”
“And your dad?”
“He died when I was nineteen.” He took another drink of his coffee before setting it down. “We’ve talked enough tonight. Go get some sleep.”
Since I wanted to go do more research, I didn’t argue.
When I stood, he ordered, “Kiss me goodnight, dove.”
I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to, but because he’d caught me off guard.
He pushed his chair away from the table, his air of authority filling the room until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Or like I was breathing him in.
“Now.”
I jolted and stepped closer to stand between his spread legs. Bending, I pressed my mouth to his. When his tongue teased my lips, I parted them and involuntarily moaned at his taste.
And then the kiss went wild.
Spearing his fingers into the sides of my hair, Maximo cupped my head in both hands. He held my mouth to his as he stood so fast, his chair fell back with a clatter. Backing me up until the table dug into my thighs, he devoured my mouth. His kiss tasted of rich, dark coffee and something even better.
Him.
He released my head to grip my hips and lift me onto the edge of the table. His hands dropped to my thighs, spreading them before running his palms up.
I wanted him to keep going. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted it all.
But Maximo had more control than I did. He tore his mouth from mine and stepped away, his gaze locked on my parted lips. “Go to bed.”
Shimmying off the table, I tugged my dress back into place and walked on shaking legs.
I was at the threshold when he called, “Juliet.”
I looked over my bare shoulder to see he was sitting, casual and chill like he hadn’t just rocked my world with a single kiss.
“This isn’t a choice between me and homelessness. If you don’t want this,” he motioned between us, “you can stay here, same as it was before today. If you want to move out, I’ll get you your own place somewhere safe and help you. You can take your stuff with you, no strings attached.”
Again, it didn’t say good things about my life that his kindness surprised me. It also made me choked up and suspicious at the same time.
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Because I like you.” Even at the distance, I could feel the heat from his gaze. “And you need someone to take care of you for once.”
; My emotions and thoughts were so jumbled, I didn’t even know what to say, so I remained silent.
“Happy birthday, little dove.”
“Thank you,” I whispered before hightailing it out of there.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A Taste
Juliet
I CAN’T DO IT.
It’d be crazy.
The whole thing is wrong.
Right?
Kicking off my heels, I paced my room.
I shouldn’t have been considering it. He’d offered me two easy—and generous—outs. I should’ve been deciding between them.
But I wasn’t.
Because I wanted him and what he offered. I just wasn’t sure I was brave enough to accept.
Going to the sitting room, I grabbed my MacBook and brought it to my bed. I opened the browser and searched what a gimp suit was.
And then I laughed before quickly exiting out of that tab.
Well, thank God he’s not into that.
I switched to the tab I’d been reading when Ms. Vera had come in earlier. It was informative, talking about the power dynamics of the relationship and what each person got from it.
As helpful as it was, they were just words. They didn’t tell me how I’d feel. Whether I’d enjoy it or hate it. I could think something sounded great in theory but hate it in practice.
Or I could assume I’d hate it and end up missing out on something incredible.
Closing the MacBook, I showered before pulling on a tank top and sleep shorts. I climbed into bed and closed my eyes, but my mind wouldn’t turn off.
And neither would my body.
I was overheated and restless. Sliding my hand into my shorts, I didn’t even try to keep my thoughts blank. They were filled with Maximo and his kiss. The way he’d touched me. The way he’d moved me. The way his eyes had blazed with want.
And the way he’d ordered me around.
Even though I was soaked and desperate for a release, I couldn’t find it.
But I knew who could.
Maximo
Not for the first time, I seriously fucking regretted making Ash disconnect the camera in Juliet’s bedroom.
By the time I’d turned on her sitting room camera, she’d already been in her bedroom. I’d thought maybe she was asleep, but a short time later, she’d stormed out to grab her MacBook from the coffee table before closing herself back in.
I wanted to see what she was looking up.
I wanted to watch her response to it.
I wanted to know what made her full lips part, her thighs squeeze, and her pulse go wild.
Or if it made her do more than that. If her hand went under her dress so she could make herself come.
If she were mine, I’d control that, too.
Groaning, I turned off the monitors before reaching for a bottle of whiskey and pouring a glass as I replayed that damn kiss in my mind.
When I’d told her to kiss me, I’d wanted to see if she’d even do it. I’d intended for it to be a small one. A taste.
But then she’d let out that soft, sexy moan, and I’d lost my mind.
I pushed away from my desk to go to bed.
Or, more accurately, to go stroke my dick while picturing Juliet.
I was about to stand when there was a tentative knock at the door.
What is my little dove up to?
“Come in,” I said.
But the door remained closed.
“Open the door, Juliet.” I waited a few moments before adding, “Or I’ll do it.”
It swung open, and Juliet stood in the doorway. She’d showered and changed into a tank top and a pair of shorts. Her damp hair was pulled into a high ponytail.
It was a stark contrast to how she’d been dressed at dinner, but it was just as sexy.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“Just came to say I’d like coffee in the morning. Okay, bye.”
She turned away but stopped when I said, “Juliet.”
“Maximo,” she muttered in a mocking tone, not turning back.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
I stood and walked to her. “What do you need?”
“I told you—”
“A lie. And you know how I feel about lying. I’m not going to ask you again.”
She spun to face me, and that’s when I saw it.
Her flushed skin.
The pieces that’d come loose from her ponytail.
Her unfocused, heated eyes.
My dick throbbed. “Were you touching your pretty pussy, little dove?”
Her eyes went saucer big, but shocking the hell out of me, she didn’t try to deny it and only nodded.
“Because of what you were reading?”
Thankfully, she didn’t ask how I knew she’d been reading. Instead, she shook her head.
“What were you thinking about?”
She ran her tongue across her bottom lip before whispering, “You.”
Fuck, she’s killing me.
“Did you come?” I asked, my voice gruff.
Shifting her legs, she looked desperate and wild. “I couldn’t.”
“Are you here to ask your Daddy to make you come?”
A volcano of need erupted in her eyes as she nodded instantly. “Please.”
Cupping the back of her head and gripping her hip, I kissed her hard as I walked us to my desk. I lifted her onto the edge, spreading her thighs to stand between them.
My hand pushed under her shirt and ran up her side, stopping with my thumb curved just below her braless tit.
Juliet whimpered and tried to shift so I was touching it, but I dropped my hand. When I brought it back, she did it again, so I lowered it farther.
The next time my hand trailed up, she remained still.
So fucking perfect.
I stretched my thumb up to tease her hard nipple. Her moan went straight to my dick.
I wanted to drop to my knees and eat her until she came all over my mouth. Until she was the only thing I tasted for the rest of my damn life. But I knew if I did that, if I tasted that sweetness, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fucking her.
Feeling her come on my fingers would have to do.
Moving my hand between her thighs, I hooked a finger in the fabric and pulled it aside, my dick aching when I realized she wasn’t wearing any panties.
Tearing my mouth away, I leaned back to look.
Juliet tried squeezing her thighs closed, but I moved my hand from her tit to hold her legs open. “Don’t ever hide yourself from me. I plan on spending hours and hours staring at this pussy. Show it to me.”
She swallowed hard, her pulse going wild and her legs trembling, but after a few moments, she spread them.
And gave me a view of heaven that was even more perfect than I’d envisioned.
And I’d envisioned it far more often than I should’ve.
“So fucking pretty,” I groaned. Running my thumb through her wetness, I stopped with it pushed against her clit.
Juliet rocked her hips, but my hold on her thigh tightened, my fingertips digging in.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice pained.
“What do you need?”
“To come.”
“Ask me.”
“Will you make me come?”
Hearing her sweet voice asking that made precum drip from my dick, but I didn’t give her what she wanted.
Not until she asked correctly.
When I didn’t move, she looked so frustrated, I thought she might cry or start throwing punches.
Taking pity on her, I gave her a hint. “Who am I to you now, dove?”
What I wanted must’ve clicked into place because Juliet didn’t hesitate. She met my eyes and begged, “Please make me come, Daddy.”
Fucking hell.
I’d spent countless nights with my fist around my cock, imagining her asking me that. Reality was far better than any fantasy.
Deep breathing to gain control,
I focused on rewarding her. I circled her clit with my thumb. Moving my other hand from her thigh, I teased my middle finger into her tight hole.
“This is mine now,” I growled, watching my hands work her. “You don’t come unless I say so. You don’t play with yourself without me. If you want to come, I’ll give you what you need. Do you understand, Juliet?” When she nodded, I said, “I need to hear it.”
“Yes.”
I stopped.
“Yes, Daddy,” she amended.
My thumb stroked her clit harder. Faster.
Leaning back on her arms, Juliet dropped her head.
“Keep your eyes on me,” I ordered.
She did as I said, her dazed gaze on me as she rocked her hips. Her walls pulsed around my fingertip.
Her quiet pants grew to sexy moans. She cried out, her neck arching and her body tensing.
But she kept her eyes on me as she came from my touch.
Easing the pressure, I gave her just enough to ride the wave but not enough to overwhelm her. Once she was done, I took my finger away.
Shoulders slumped, her face was relaxed and sated.
And happy.
“Better?” I asked, gathering her close.
“Much.”
“What do you say?”
A small smile curled her fuckable lips as she blinked up at me. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Dipping my head to kiss her, I muttered, “I’m already addicted to hearing you call me that. You’re an obsession.”
Not knowing how strongly I meant that, she gave a soft laugh that turned into a yawn.
“You need sleep.” I released my hold and stepped back.
Juliet stood and shot me a small smile. “Good night.”
She started for the door but yelped when I picked her up, her legs automatically wrapping around my waist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Her brows lowered. “My room.”
“No.” Gripping her ass, I carried her down the hall and opened my door before flicking on the light. “I want you here with me.”
From now on.
Surprisingly, she didn’t argue as she glanced around. “Bathroom?”
I pointed to a door. “Do you need anything from your room?”
She shook her head.
