Chapter 159: Chapter 159 Punishment
Elara
I knew I’d fucked up.
The moment Dominic’s face went dark in the living room, I knew those flowers were probably from Zack.
Normally, I wouldn’t contact my staff after work hours unless it was urgent.
But tonight, I made an exception. I called the administrative director directly and made it crystal clear - any future flower deliveries addressed to me were to be refused at reception.
No exceptions. Problem solved.
I heard footsteps approaching as I ended the call.
Dominic closed the bedroom door behind him, his eyes locked on mine. "Done with your call?"
I nodded, setting my phone down on the nightstand. "Today was a misunderstanding. It won’t happen again."
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Just yesterday, I’d been the one laying down rules about what would happen if either of us stepped out of line. And today, I was the one who looked like she was cheating.
Dominic shrugged off his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a chair.
Then he moved toward me with predatory grace, scooping me up from where I sat and pulling me onto his lap.
His head dipped, his lips finding mine.
"Open up," he commanded, his voice rough and gravelly in a way that made heat pool low in my belly.
His tongue traced the seam of my lips teasingly, and I instinctively tried to pull back.
But his hands were firm on my waist, holding me in place, not letting me escape.
The kiss deepened, grew more demanding.
He kissed along my jaw, down to the sensitive spot beneath my ear, then lower to my collarbone. Each touch of his lips sent shivers racing through my body.
I couldn’t help pressing closer to him, seeking more of that delicious friction.
That small surrender seemed to encourage him.
Without breaking contact, Dominic stood, carrying me toward the bathroom.
Panic mixed with anticipation flooded through me.
My fingers dug into his shoulders. "Dominic..."
"Hmm?" His lips moved back to the corner of my mouth, kissing me repeatedly. "Still here, sweetheart."
Another kiss. "So tell me - are you going to accept flowers from other men again?"
My eyes were already hazy with desire. "No. Never again."
He kissed my eyelids, satisfied with my answer. "Good girl. I’m a very possessive man."
The bathroom door clicked shut behind us.
Dominic set me down on the marble counter, the cold stone making me gasp against his mouth. His hands moved to my blouse, fingers working the buttons with practiced ease.His hands slid up my sides, palms rough and warm.
He palmed my tits through my bra, squeezing just hard enough to make me gasp.
"Do you like this?"
"Yeah." My head fell back. "God, yeah."
He watched my face as he did it again, thumbs dragging over my nipples through the lace.
"I want your mouth on them," I breathed out, and that was all it took.
He pulled my bra down, not even bothering to unclasp it, just yanked the cups under my tits so they spilled out.
His mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking hard, and I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair. He switched to the other, licking and biting until I was writhing against the cold marble.
"Dominic,harder..."
He didn’t stop. He kissed down my stomach, slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing the waistband of my panties.
Then he pulled those down too, tossing them somewhere behind him. He knelt on the bathroom floor, looking up at me with dark, hungry eyes.
"Spread your legs, sweetheart."
I did. Wide. Shameless.
He leaned in and dragged his tongue through my folds, teasing my clit with the flat of his tongue. But he didn’t stay there.
He kissed lower, down my thighs, then back up, making me whimper. "You’re teasing me."
"Yeah." He grinned against my skin. "I am."
Then he stood, and I heard his belt unbuckle. His pants hit the floor, and his cock sprang free—thick, hard, the tip already glistening. He stepped between my legs and wrapped his hand around himself, stroking slowly as he looked at me.
"This what you want?"
"Yes."
He pressed the head of his cock against my clit, dragging it through my wetness, slick and hot. I gasped, my hips bucking up to meet him.
He did it again, sliding along my folds, bumping against that sensitive bundle of nerves with every pass.
"Fuck, Dominic..."
"Shh." He kept going, his breathing ragged, watching where his cock rubbed against me. "Just feel it."
The pressure built fast, too fast. My thighs started shaking.
He pressed harder, circling his tip right over my clit, and I broke.
"Oh god...I’m gonna..."
"Do it." His voice was hoarse. "Come on my cock, Elara. Show me."
I came undone, my whole body convulsing, my pussy clenching around nothing while he kept rubbing, kept pushing me through it until I was whimpering and oversensitive.
Only then did he line himself up.
"Look at me," he said.
I opened my eyes.
He pushed inside in one slow, deep stroke.
I was so wet, so ready, that there was no resistance.
"Fuck," he breathed, his forehead dropping to mine again. "This is what I needed. Not flowers. Not anything else. Just you."
He started moving. Slow at first, deep, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles, pulling him deeper.
"Harder," I said.
He gave it to me. His hips snapped forward, the counter digging into my ass, and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the bathroom. "You feel so good," he groaned. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tight."
"Don’t stop."
"Wasn’t planning on it."
He fucked me right there on the counter until I was babbling, until I couldn’t think, until the only thing in the world was him inside me.
Then he pulled out.
I almost cried at the loss.
"Turn around."
I slid off the counter on shaky legs. He turned me myself, bending me over the edge of the marble. "Arch your back for me, sweetheart. Stick that ass out. Just like that."
I dropped my chest to the counter, pushing my hips back. He groaned behind me.
"Jesus Christ."
His hands gripped my hips, and then he was inside me again—from behind this time, deeper than before.
He set a punishing rhythm, fucking me hard and fast, and all I could do was hold on, my nails scraping against the marble, my moans echoing off the tiles.
