by Sophia Vice
I have eleven more appointments after my blonde wannabe, and I’m tired but happy as the two junior stylists leave and Ricky and I begin the process of cleaning up.
“Excited about your vacation?” Ricky asks conversationally as he rearranges some products on the shelves.
“So excited.” I can’t help but secretly grin as I sweep up some hair. Adam and I are doing a chill staycation, but I can’t wait to spend time having lots of fun, sweaty sex with my dom—my lover.
“What are you guys going to do? Anything planned?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Maybe some shopping and good eating out, but otherwise, just straight up Netflix and chilling.”
Ricky laughs. “Oh damn, mama. That’s how it is?” He winks at me from across the room.
I blush at my own joke. “I mean, well, maybe some of that, but I really do want to relax and watch some Netflix.”
“Sure,” Ricky draws out the word, and I stick my tongue out at him playfully.
It’s now been almost two years since Adam first walked into the coffee shop and helped me turn my life around. Two years since I fell in love with him.
I say goodbye to Ricky and head to my car, slinging my designer handbag into the passenger seat.
I’ve completely shed my frumpy college-girl look. I have a new wardrobe now that I’ve paid for myself, except for a few gifts from Adam. It isn’t anything too crazy or gauche; it’s a tasteful, refined blend of designer purses and shoes with boutique wear like cute dresses, blouses, lingerie, and of course plenty of trendy sportswear to inspire my workouts.
Gone is the girl with the frumpy thrift-store sweaters and baggy pants. In her place is someone chic and cute that I don’t recognize. She likes the way her strong body feels in her clothes and she has pep in her step. It used to be that I couldn’t even conceive of Adam, unbelievably hot, Jason’s boss Adam, being attracted to me.
Now I can see it. The girl that I see in the mirror isn’t worthless. She’s beautiful.
When I get home, Adam is there to greet me. He’s in the kitchen cooking, but he puts down his knife and washes his hands before he sweeps me into a passionate kiss. His hands smooth down the deep blue French dress I’m wearing, his hands settling on my ass and squeezing as he deepens our kiss.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he purrs, tugging on my high pony-tail. “Did you do your hair like this to tempt me?”
“Of course.” I wink at him, and he growls in response.
I shriek as I’m suddenly hoisted over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He walks to the bedroom and tosses me onto the bed before he pounces after me, already unbuttoning his shirt.
“Won’t whatever you’re cooking burn?”
“I turned it off,” he husks, peeling my dress off of my suddenly over-heated skin. “It’ll keep. I’m hungrier for you anyway.” His eyes grow darker with appreciation as he takes in the sight of my lace bra and panties.
“Take those off,” he growls as he removes the rest of his own clothes.
I don’t have to be told twice. I shed my lingerie, and a moment later he’s between my thighs, ratcheting my legs up and over his shoulders.
“Adam,” I moan as he tests my readiness with one long finger, his mouth sucking on my clit.
“Impatient, baby?”
“Yes,” I moan, tugging on his shoulders.
“Ask and you shall receive.” He climbs up my body and spreads my legs, his cock at my dewy entrance.
He doesn’t go slow or prepare me. He slides home in one brutal thrust, making me cry out at the painful stretch.
“Fuck!”
“Language, bad girl,” Adam grinds out, his face taut with pleasure. He twists one of my nipples, compounding the overload of sensation.
I grip his shoulders as I ride out the storm that Adam is, his hips relentless as he drives into me. I cry out as he drives me to greater and greater heights of ecstasy until I’m clinging to him, hanging on by a thread.
Our eyes lock, and I can feel it—that deep connection, the intensity, the love—and it pushes me right to the precipice. My feelings are reflected in his steel-gray eyes, but his darkened gaze is also filled with a stark possessiveness that makes me shiver.
“Can I come?” I can hardly get the words out, the sensation of him is so overwhelming.
One brutal thrust. “Is that how you ask?”
“Please sir, may I come?” The pleasure is so intense, I can feel it fizzing through my bloodstream.
“Good girl. Come.”
Adam swallows my cry with a kiss as I let go, my core clenching rhythmically on his cock as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm.
“Too much,” I gasp as his hand comes between us to work my clit. I buck my hips to get away, but he doesn’t allow it.
“I think you can give me one more.” Adam’s look is one of sensual cruelty.
He fucks me hard, his fingers sliding ruthlessly over my clit, and before I know it I’m coming again as he drives into me.
He follows me over the edge, and we cling together in the aftermath.
We lay panting, sweat slicking our skin. That’s when I notice it.
“Adam?” I ask.
“Yes, pet?”
“What are those suitcases doing in the corner?”
Two large suitcases, clearly packed to the brim, are set up in front of the closet.
I feel Adam smile against my neck as he kisses me. “Oh, those?” His voice is casual; off hand. “Those are for our trip to Paris.”
I freeze. “We’re going to Paris?”
I can feel his grin widen. “Yes.”
“When?”
“In the morning.”
I pull back, shocked. “What about the staycation?”
“Would you rather not go to Paris?” He shrugs, the motion making his powerful shoulders ripple. “It makes no difference to me one way or the other. I’ll just cancel the tickets.”
“No! Don’t cancel them!” I shout, breathless as I clamber onto my knees. “We’re really going to visit Paris?”
Adam grins, tucking some loose hairs behind my ear. “Yes, baby. It’s the city of love, after all, and I love you. It seemed to fit.”
I laugh, delighted. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”
His eyes warm with male satisfaction. He leans in to kiss me passionately, his hand tugging playfully on my ponytail. “Say you’ll go.”
I moan as his fingers ghost over my still-sensitized center. “Of course I want to go! I just can’t believe you bought the tickets without telling me.” I laugh. “And you even packed my bags for me.”
He shrugs, grinning shamelessly. “Guilty as charged.”
I kiss him, and I can feel his teeth against my lips as he smiles. He pulls away, his eyes tracing the lines of my body.
“Now, are you going to be a good girl for me in Paris?”
I bite my lip. His dirty language never fails to excite me. “Yes, sir.”
How did I get so lucky as to get this man in my bed, in my life? I’m about to ask him when he pushes me back onto the sheets, and my question evaporates as his body covers mine.
“Hands over your head,” he husks, and I smile as I obey.
“You are such a control-freak,” I tell him, still laughing about the surprise trip to Paris. “But you’re my control freak.”
“Yours,” he manages, even as his eyes darken in pleasure as our bodies join once more. “Always.”
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