Even though she was worn out, I loved that she was still willing to play. Over the years, I’d taken pride in my ability to read my significant others. A good dom listens and pays attention to their partners. In fact, in my opinion, doms should always do more listening than talking. It wasn’t about barking orders. It was about trust. And if Lilah had had enough, then we would be done. But here she was, naked on our bed, still willing to let me use her for whatever I wanted—despite being denied all fucking night.
She was my final partner. The one thatmade me never want to look outside for any other person. She wasitfor me.
The past five years had been extraordinary, both in and out of the bedroom. The gap in our age never bothered me or her, and every single one of our friends couldn’t care less. If anything, it turned Lilah on. Tonight was proof. The moment she uttered the worddaddy, I was a goner. But where would be the fun in just allowing her to call me that? I loved making her earn what she wanted. In fact, I wanted to make her earn every fucking thing I could for the rest of my life.
If tonight went the way I hoped, maybe that would become my reality.
I rolled off the side of the bed and went to the mini-fridge. A jar of black cherry syrup, half-used already, was chilled and waiting. The dark burgundy colour of the liquid made one hell of a mess, especially on my white satin sheets, but it was one hundred percent worth ruining them now and then to enjoy the sweet tartness mixed with the heady taste of my woman.
“How do you want me?” she asked, laying perfectly spread out on her side. Her darkhair spilled over the arm resting under her head and onto the bedding.
I smirked. “On your back. Legs spread, pet.”
She did as she was told, no back talk, no questioning. She was done being toyed with, and I was ready to give her what she needed.
10
lilah
Adam setthe jar of cherry syrup on the bedside table and took a step back. His gaze raked over my body spread out over the sheets for him. Slowly—so fucking slowly—he unlatched his belt buckle with one hand and lazily pulled it through his belt loops. Normally, I’d ask him to do something like bind my wrists or tie me to the bedpost, but I didn’t have much brat left in me tonight. Not when I’d been passed around like a plaything and denied time and time again. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and eyes trained on him.
His fingers passed over each button of his dress shirt, popping them open one at a time, working his way down. Stripping it off, herevealed his dark chest hair that now had a spray of silver peppered throughout. God, that was sexy. When his happy trail started greying, I was going to be fucking feral.
“Are you being slow as sin on purpose?” I asked, immediately regretting the words.
He turned his head to the side and lowered his eyebrows. “Was that a complaint, pet?”
Me and my bratty fucking mouth.
I batted my eyelashes at him. “Of course not.”
“Sounded like one to me. Perhaps I should put my shirt back on? Restart the process?” he asked.
Any more delay and I was going to implode. “Please don’t, boss. I need you.”
He crossed his arms and waited. “A little more begging should do the trick.”
I sniffled. “I’ve been craving you all night. I’m just impatient. I promise to be good from now on. Please keep going.”
“Much better.” He resumed undressing, unzipping his slacks and pushing them off his hips. They fell to the floor and revealed his black boxer briefs. He was hard again behind the fabric—of that, I had no doubt.When someone was as big as Adam, it was hard to hide.
When he finally slipped his thumbs inside the waistband and pulled them down, his cock sprang free. The inside of his underwear was a mess. Cum painted the dark material, some still leaking from his tip. I licked my lips, dying to get a hold of him—to get him inside me.
“Eager for me?” he asked, resting one knee on the bed while he cracked open the jar of macerated cherries.
My pussy pulsed in anticipation. “You have no idea.”
He chuckled—a dark and low sound that went straight to my heart. I loved his laugh.
“Ready, pet?”
I nodded and stretched across the bed, elevating my arms and letting my legs drop open even further. Every single part of me was exposed to him. No shame, no hiding. Naked together in our room was all I ever wanted to be. Nights like this only increased my admiration of him. His control, his strength, his ability to put me in my place when I needed it. He was perfect, and he was mine.
Settling beside me on the bed, he tipped the jar of dark red syrup over my chest and let it flow in a steady stream without saying a word. I shivered as the chilled juice made contact with my skin. Tiny goosebumps formed on my breasts, then extended out and over my limbs.
He shifted the container down over my belly, travelling it down one leg and up the other. He brought it back to the other side of my chest, up one arm, and down the next, ending at the hollows of my collar bones. The icy cold of the fluid mixed with the heat radiating off my body left my chest heaving and my pulse pounding.
“Look at you.” His voice purred like tires on gravel. “An actual sweet fucking treat for me. Be a good slut and lay still while I eat you up.”
