“No underwear,” he repeats. “Not this week. Not unless I specifically tell you to.”
I consider arguing, but I don’t. It would be for form only. The truth is, the idea excites me. Being naked beneath my dress. Knowing that it’s because it pleases Damien. Thinking of him every time a breeze caresses my sex.
“Bra?” I ask.
He eyes the curve of my breasts under the red robe. “No,” he says, and my nipples peak with arousal. He notices, and I see the answering excitement in his eyes.
“People will be able to tell,” I say.
“Let them,” he says. “Come on.” I follow him to the tub. “Too hot?” he asks.
I dip my hand in. It’s hot, but not unbearable. “Not even close.”
“Really?” He looks intrigued, and turns down the cold water tap until it is only a trickle.
“Is that bubble bath?” I ask, pointing to a built-in dispenser. “Go ahead.”
I press the button, and a floral-scented gel squirts into the water right beneath the tap. Bubbles immediately form. “Now that’s a bath,” I say, laughing. “Can I get in?”
“Of course.”
I drop the robe and climb in. Already conveniently nude, Damien follows. He eases his back against the side and then settles me in between his legs. I feel his cock, soft now, against my rear. I shimmy a little, and it twitches.
“Tease,” he murmurs. He squirts some liquid soap into his hands and begins to bathe me, caressing my arms with suds, then my breasts, then dipping down to stroke between my thighs. I close my eyes and lean back, feeling him get hard against me, feeling my body opening for him again. I just had him—and now I really am a little sore—but I still want. Dear God, how I want.
His fingers tease me, gently making circles around my clit, making me squirm. “I’m not going to fuck you again,” he whispers. “And I’m not going to make you come.”
I shift position, silently protesting.
“Tomorrow,” he says. “Anticipation. It’s a good thing.”
“You’re mean,” I say.
“Baby, you ain’t seen nothing.” He grips me at the waist and eases me around, so that I’m kneeling on his lap in the tub. Considering he’s just told me he’s not going to fuck me, it’s one hell of an interesting position since the length of his cock is hard between us. I slip my hand down and stroke him. Soft, teasing. He feels like velvet on steel, and I want him inside me. Boldly, desperately, I want him. “You’re not going to fuck me,” I say softly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you.”
As I ease my hips up, I see the look of heated surprise on his face.
“Oh, no,” he warns.
“Oh, yes,” I say, positioning his cock beneath me, then lowering myself onto him, fast and hard. I clutch his shoulders, arch my head back, and ride him.
“Jesus, Nikki.” His voice is a desperate groan and he grabs my hips, taking over the work of pistoning us together. I’m learning his body, and I can see how fast he’s building. I move harder, faster, pushing him along. “Oh, Christ, I’m going to come.”
He explodes inside me, then pulls me close as he breathes hard, his entire body going limp. “That was … unexpected,” he says. “And pretty damned amazing,” he adds, making me feel hot and sexy and powerful.
He strokes my cheek. “You didn’t use a condom.”
I look away, weirdly shy. “I assumed you were clean. You are, right?”
“I am,” he says. “But that’s not the only issue.”
“I’m on the pill,” I admit. I don’t tell him that it’s more for cramps than for birth control.
“Good,” he says. “In fact, that’s excellent.”
I ease off him, and curl up beside him in the rapidly cooling water. He holds me close, then shifts our position and stands, reaching to pull me up. I let him help me out and dry me off with the kind of thick towel I’ve only seen in spas. Then he holds the robe for me and ties the sash around my waist. He dries himself off next and pulls on a simple cotton robe. “Come,” he says, then leads me to the bed.
He opens a trunk and pulls out two pillows and a light comforter, which he spreads over the sheets. He holds the sheet open in an obvious invitation, so I start to slide in. “Take the robe off,” he says, and I do, untying the sash and then letting the soft material fall off my shoulders to pool at my feet.
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he says, after he’s tucked me in. “I’ll be right back.”
I roll over and look out at the ocean. The windows are still open, and the cool night air is blowing in, but it’s warm under the comforter. The sky is black, and the ambient light is minimal enough that I can actually see the stars twinkling above.
After a moment, I feel the mattress shift as Damien sits beside me. He has a tray with wine, cheese, and grapes. I grin and ease myself up to a sitting position, the pillow propped against the cool metal of the bedframe.
“Open your mouth,” he says, then feeds me a grape when I comply. “You’re beautiful, Nikki,” he says. “Do you believe me?”
“When you say it, I do.”
My legs are under the covers, but he rests his hand on them. “How long?”
I don’t pretend to misunderstand. “I was sixteen when I started,” I say. “My sister got married and moved out. And Mother kicked the pageant stuff into overdrive. It sounds petty, I know, but Ashley was the only person who kept me centered. Without her around, I got so frustrated I’d take the crowns out of the trophy case and bend them. Not so much that Mother noticed. Just enough so that they weren’t perfect anymore.” I shrug. “I guess I graduated from crowns to my own skin.”