by Sophia Vice
She raises her eyebrows. “Bothering me?”
“Yeah. You’ve been different lately—I can tell something is wrong. If you have something to tell me, you have to. It’s one of the rules. Honesty.”
“I remember the rules,” she grouses, her lips pouting cutely.
I resist the temptation to kiss her again. “So you know what happens if you keep secrets or lie. What’s on your mind? Is it us?”
She shakes her head too quickly. “No, we’re great.”
I narrow my eyes at her. My instincts are telling me that she isn’t telling me the truth. “So. What is it?”
Her eyes shift to the side as she avoids looking at me. “I just can’t decide what I should do. I know you told me to think about what I want for a career, and I want to figure that out for myself, too… but it’s just overwhelming. It’s such a huge decision. I mean, I’ll be doing it for the rest of my life. That’s intense, you know?”
I nod. “I totally get that. But you won’t get anywhere by just speculating. Give different things a try. Talk to people that work in fields you’re interested in. If you chose something and change your mind in three years, that’s fine. People change. Who knows, maybe I should give up my company and start a bakery?”
She laughs. “You don’t even eat sweets.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re wrong about that. I eat them regularly.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve seen you eat sweets maybe twice since I’ve known you. You’re too much of a health freak.”
I tut her. “How wrong you are.”
I intend to show her just how much I like to indulge myself in sweets—specifically, her sweetness.
17
Kyle
Adam makes a tutting sound. “How wrong you are.” He drags my top down so that my bra is exposed and draws back a cup to expose a nipple. “I eat these cherries nightly,” he purrs, pulling my nipple into his mouth. I gasp, startled by the sensation.
He nibbles on me leisurely before he slides down my body, popping open the button on my jeans. He pulls them down, but pauses when he sees my panties. They’re the new ones that I just bought and washed- with red lace and ribbon.
“You dirty, dirty girl,” he growls, his grey eyes darkening with stark hunger. “Did you get this just for me?” His eyes flick up to mine, and I feel damp heat as he draws a finger down my center. I know he can feel how wet the lace has become.
I nod breathlessly.
“I love it, pet, but it has to go.”
He surprises me by biting the edge of my new lacy panties and dragging them down my legs with his teeth. My breathing picks up, and his eyes meet mine predatorily as he rolls my clit between his thumb and forefinger. “I also drink this sweet nectar morning and night,” he husks, dipping a finger into my pussy before raising it to his lips, his tongue flicking out for a lick.
I watch him as he gets up and pulls my pants and panties off the rest of the way. He crawls back onto the couch, separating my legs before he kneels between them and licks me right on my center, making me gasp.
“Still think I don’t like sweets?” He growls.
“No,” I moan, “you love them. You should eat them all day, in my opinion.” My legs twitch involuntarily from the pleasure as I shudder.
He laughs, sending vibrations straight to my clit.
I’m about to come when he pulls away and flips me onto my hands and knees, his strong hands guiding me where he wants me.
His thick thighs separate my own and my hips are drawn back onto his cock. I don’t even know when he took off his pants.
“Wait—” I gasp, not feeling ready enough.
“Is that a safeword?” I feel the tip of his large cock nestle into my wet folds.
“No,” I moan, wetness rushing to my core at how he masters me.
Wordlessly he works his way into me. I’m still not wet enough, so he moves in and out slowly, going further each time as he stretches me deliciously. By the time he’s all the way inside of me, I’m soaking. Finally he pulls all the way out and then snaps his hips, filling me completely. I cry out, painfully stretched by how thick he is.
“So. Fucking. Tight,” he grinds out, staying still as he bottoms out inside of me.
“Fuck!” I cry out, unable to shift away from his strong hands. It feels like I’m being split in two by his big cock.
“Good girl,” he grinds out, and I moan as the head of his cock rubs me inside in just the right way. He unbuttons his dress shirt as he fucks me, and then he leans down, pulling my sweater so that it’s over my tits. He pulls them out of the confines of my bra, rolling my nipples harshly as I try to pull away, startled by the sudden pain.
“Fuck,” I groan, reaching to pull away one of his hands from my abused nipple.
“Hands down.” his voice is like a whiplash.
I put my hand down, digging my nails into the fabric of the sofa to cope with the pain as he pinches and pulls on my nipples, stretching them away from my body. He continues to fuck me as he tortures me, his large hand encompassing one tit so that he’s milking it painfully.
“Adam, that hurts,” I complain, gasping when his cock hits my tender cervix.
“I know it does, pet. It’s supposed to. But I think you like it. Do you hear how wet you are?”
He fucks me harder for emphasis, and I hear the lewdly wet noise of his balls slapping against me.
“These nice tits were made for punishment. Maybe I should go get the clamps? Should I whip them?”
“No!” I gasp, feeling searing pleasure-pain run in a circuit from where he pinches my nipple straight to my core.
“I bet you could come, just from me playing with these.”
I shake my head.
“No?”
I shake my head again, breathless from his ruthless fucking.
Apparently taking it as a challenge, he slides both arms in front of my chest and drags me up so that we’re both vertical, on our knees on the sofa. He continues to thrust up into me, his huge cock like iron as tiny inner muscles in my core clench in pleasure. He reaches up, pinching both of my nipples hard as he thrusts.
“Come.”
Like lightning, hot pleasure undoes me as the pain inflicted on my poor nipples combines with the thick pounding from his brutal cock.
He comes a second later, and I feel his cock kick inside of me. He rests his head on my shoulder as he slides his hands proprietarily down my sides and abdomen.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he purrs.
I lean my head back against him. My muscles are tight and sleek underneath his hands, and for once, I can take a compliment. I feel sexy.
“Thank you.”
He looks up, startled at my accepting a compliment, and he smiles before capturing my lips in a kiss.
I groan as he lightly thumbs a nipple.
“Sore?” He pulls back, his eyes darkening.
“You were rough,” I complain.
He grins his tiger’s smile. “You love it.”
I can’t help my answering grin. “I do.”
And I love you. But I can’t tell him that. Not yet, not when things are so uncertain.
Adam and I sit in his luxurious master bath, both of us feeling relaxed after the sweaty session on the sofa. I’m laying against his chest as his hands play over my body, casually stroking over my water-warmed skin.
I reach up, pulling him in for a kiss. My hands slide up into his hair.
As usual, he masters me, the intensity of his kiss turning all of my limbs into butter.
We break apart, breathless. Adam pushes some of his hair out of his face as his eyes devour my naked body.
“Your hair is getting long,” I comment absentmindedly. I can feel his cock hardening against my back.
“I need a haircut,” he rasps, cupping my breast.
“I used to cut Jason’s hair when I was growing up.”
“Yeah?” His eyes light with interest.
“Yeah. And my own. My
parents didn’t bother, and Jason and I were embarrassed, so I took it upon myself.”
His mouth hardens into a thin line, and I can tell that he’s thinking of what he’d like to say to my parents.
It would be totally pointless. They’re usually so drunk they don’t remember what people say anyway.
“Were you good at it?” He asks, breaking me out of my dark thoughts.
“Hmm?” I look up at him, distracted by how his finger circles my areola.
“Were you good at it?” He smirks, pinching my nipple lightly.
“Oh,” I moan, “I guess, yeah. I gave some other kids haircuts too, and it became a thing. I did it all the way through middle school and high school and made money off of it.”
Adam stops teasing me with his fingers as his brows lift. “That is pretty impressive.”
“Not really.” I snake my hand between us, running my fingers along his length. “Most of the kids at my school were white trash. If I wasn’t cutting their hair they would have just had rat-tails, so the bar was pretty low.”
“Still,” Adam argues, his voice deepening as his cock hardens against my hand. “You were quite the little entrepreneur.”
“Hmm. Maybe. Why, do you want me to cut your hair?”
Adam’s strong hands startle me by picking me up by the ribcage as he drags me further up onto his chest. I squeak, surprised as he lines me up with his cock.
“Maybe after I fuck you again,” he murmurs against my neck, and I cry out as his length splits me open for the second time.
18
Kyle
The next morning, I stare at Adam open-mouthed. He’s brought one of the dining chairs into the bathroom, and he has hair-cutting scissors and his shaver set out on the counter. He sits expectantly in the chair, completely, mouthwateringly nude.
“When did you even have time to buy those scissors?”
He grins. “I went for an early run this morning while you were asleep. I thought about your offer so I stopped by a drug store and bought what I thought you might need.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You can’t let me cut your hair. You’re a professional. You have to look decent at work.” Even as I’m protesting I run a hand through his hair, secretly feeling excited. I always used to love cutting hair. It has the ability to transform a person.
Adam shrugs. “No one can fire me. I’m the boss. Plus, if my hair looks weird, I can always just get a buzz-cut.”
I don’t have an answer to that, so I pick up the sheers, a grin slowly spreading across my face.
Thirty minutes later little bits of hair are all over the floor, and I give the cut a final look over.
“Can I see?” Adam asks impatiently. I had him face the bedroom so that he couldn’t judge me in the mirror.
“Okay,” I finally give permission, holding my breath as he turns around. I cut his hair in a modern, edgy style with a short fade on either side, but I left it long on the top. If it’s possible, he looks even more handsome than before. I just hope he likes it.
Adam smiles at me in the mirror, and the way his eyes have lit up with proud satisfaction takes my breath away. I smile back as he turns around, holding my face in his hands before he kisses me.
“Kyle, this is amazing! I don’t think my usual barber would have done something like this. It looks really modern. I love it.”
I grin, and kiss him back. “I’m glad you like it.”
Everything feels amazing with him. I want every day to feel like this one.
With that thought I feel the negativity rush back in. You might be overstaying your welcome. Get a job! He probably wants you out of his house already!
My smile falters, and Adam notices.
“What’s wrong? You did a great job.” Adam looks at me with concern.
“Thanks.” My voice is small.
He smooths some baby hairs back from my face. “Then what is it?” He looks at me seriously, and I know exactly what it means: I’m your dom, and I expect you to follow the rules—no lies.
“Just stressed about the job search,” I say, the half-truth sour on my tongue.
Adam sighs, his hands coming to rest on my hips. “Baby, Kyle, I meant it when I said there was no rush. Take your time. Experiment. You don’t need to leap into something only to have it be wrong. You could even work somewhere casually part-time while you stay in school or keep soul-searching. Whatever. There’s no pressure, okay?”
He always says exactly what I need to hear. I smile at him weekly. “Okay.”
He kisses me tenderly. “Okay.” His thumbs brush over my hip bones. “Let’s get showered.”
An hour later we’re both clean and Adam has vacuumed up all the hair from the haircutting experiment. I put on some makeup and the dress I just bought. It looks more expensive than it is, with elements of lace mixed in with the navy blue material. I hope Adam isn’t embarrassed by my low-budget wardrobe.
Most days he likes to pick out my outfits, but sometimes I can pick up on some frustration—I think he would like to dress me in more elegant, sexy clothes, a style that’s impossible to source from my feeble college wardrobe.
I can tell he would like to buy me new clothes, but we can’t confuse the boundaries. Neither of us want him to become a sugar daddy.
Adam pops into the room. “Ready for brunch with the gang?”
I nod. “I’m starving.”
“Good.” His eyes sweep down my frame. “I like this new dress. What about shoes?”
I gesture to some worn out flats I have out.
“No, I don’t think those will do.” He steps into the closet, before bringing out a box that I’ve never seen before.
“Open it.” I look up at him with surprise as he hands me the box. It says Oui Oui on the top and it looks expensive. I slide the top off to reveal sumptuous leather high-heeled sandals.
“Adam,” I say breathlessly, “they’re gorgeous.”
He smiles, pleased by my reaction. “You have no idea how hard it has been to restrain myself. I know you don’t want me buying you things, but I figured you would need these for interviews.” He gets down on his knees, ever the gentleman as he buckles them around my ankles.
I giggle with a sudden thought, and he looks up at me curiously. “Care to share?”
“Just, with how seriously you take picking out my outfits, it’s amazing that you are a straight man.”
He grins, his cheeks dimpling. “I know, right? And Chris doesn’t even know the half of it. He knows I dress impeccably, of course, but I couldn’t reveal how much I know about women’s fashion without making him…uncomfortable.”
I laugh. “That’s an understatement. Or maybe he wouldn’t think it was weird at all? I feel like gay guys are more comfortable with kink.”
“Oh? Comfortable with kink, huh? Who knew that the blushing girl of a few weeks ago would be talking like this? I guess you’re an expert now.” He raises an eyebrow, chuckling.
“So if Chris seems kinky-friendly, how come you never told him about…um…” I’m suddenly at a loss for words.
Adam chuckles. “There’s the shy Kyle I know. You mean why I’ve never told him about my lifestyle?”
I nod. “Right.”
“I just don’t think my personal life is anyone’s business. If I meet them through the kink community, fine, but I’m not about to tell people that technically work for me, friends or no.”
I chew on my inner lip thoughtfully. “That makes sense. I’m glad actually. I would die if Jason had any idea about the details of our sex life.”
Adam looks at me sidelong as he buttons up his shirt, his face an exaggerated caricature of horror. “Exactly.”
We both burst out laughing.
But under the laughter I’m still anxious. Does Adam want a future with me? Will my moving out change us and what we’ve built?
I want to keep my head in the sand and stay jobless and under his roof, but I know that I can’t just sit around forever.
&n
bsp; I go to head out of the room, but he stops me with a hand on my hip. “One more change,” he tells me, his eyes dropping to my waist. “Lose the underwear.”
My mouth drops open. “Seriously?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Do I usually joke about things like this?”
“I just—doesn’t that seem inappropriate?”
He leans in, biting my earlobe. “That’s the point, pet. Now take them off, or I’ll spank you and then you can go to brunch with a sore bottom.”
I quickly change my mind. “They’re off!” I hike up my dress and slide down my underwear, carefully stepping out of them when they catch on my new high-heels.
Adam’s eyes heat, but I shake my head at him.
“We don’t have time for that,” I admonish.
He grins devilishly. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
Brunch has become a ritual for me, Adam, Jason, Julia, and Adam’s right-hand-man Chris and his husband, Ricky. I officially met Chris and met Ricky not long after I moved in with Adam, and I adore both of them. They immediately warmed to me and they’re absolutely hilarious. They exude the kind of cool, self-assured confidence that I hope to have one day.
“That’s not the end of the story!” Chris shouts, gesticulating so much that a small piece of egg flies from his fork onto Jason’s face.
“Thanks for that, Chris,” Jason laughs, using a napkin to wipe the egg off.
“Whoops,” Chris apologizes, turning slightly red.
“Anyway,” Ricky interjects, “the flight attendant gave us free drinks the whole flight back just because she thought it was so cute that we were celebrating our anniversary.”
“That sounds like the most amazing trip. It isn’t fair that you guys are so charming together that you are showered with free stuff nonstop.” I spear some of my fruit salad, the fresh strawberry a bright flavor on my tongue.
“What can I say, we live to charm!” Ricky exclaims with a wink. “By the way, Adam, did you just get your hair cut?”
“I did,” confirms Adam, taking a sip of his black coffee as a small smile curves his lips.
