10
Lexi
I keep a little packet of baby wipes in my makeup kit, and I pulled one out to clean up with after I peed. Bubbles had moved my hair stuff into his bathroom for our shower earlier, but everything else was still in this one, thank goodness.
I pulled my hair from the towel and put it in a messy bun. It was damp, but not dripping, so it would have to do. Thankfully, I had a ponytail holder in my makeup kit for the bun.
I stepped out and he was there. Towering over me. In my space. Before I could acclimate, his lips were on mine and the hallway spun around us.
I wouldn’t say I’ve been kissed a lot, but plenty. I mean, I thought I knew what it meant for someone to take control and kiss me, but I’d been wrong. So fucking wrong.
His lips controlled mine. I opened to him without even realizing, and then our tongues danced — they fucking danced, like a damned Tango on one of those reality dance shows.
I don’t even remember him taking me to bed or pulling his shirt off me. My next unhazy memory is of his tongue in my pussy, his lips sealed around it, and nothing else existing.
And then there were orgasms, but they weren’t like anything I’d experienced before. I’d been on the kiddie rides, and now I was on the mega roller coaster, and I hadn’t even known what I was missing. And it wasn’t just one massive release — he kept giving them to me, bang-bang-bang, one after another. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs, the room swirled, sounds were distorted, and the only thing that mattered was his lips, his tongue, his hands.
But then he turned into a damned tease. I’d be right on the edge, my heart racing, my body primed and ready to slip over the threshold into bliss, and he’d back off or slow down, and the oncoming train faded into the distance. Over and over, he took me to the edge with his fingers and mouth until I was crazy with need, and only when I thought I’d go mad from the need for a release, for more of whatever he wanted to give me, did he raise over me and let me watch him roll a condom on.
He pressed the head in and I gasped. I was already sore from his fingers, but I understood he’d put so many inside me to get me stretched enough to take him.
His huge hands wrapped around my hips, and he met my gaze. “Put your hands on mine. If it’s too much, say my name — say Adam and I’ll stop.”
I nodded, he pulled out until he was barely inside… and shoved in. Hard, but it was perfect. Like barbecue potato chips that burn your mouth but you can’t stop eating them, the stretch was too much and yet I wanted him to stretch me more.
His eyes held my gaze, and never have I been so aware of having someone inside me. He wasn’t just screwing me, he was claiming me — making me his in a way no one had before, and we both knew it. He pushed in, pulled out, pushed back in, over and over, a little deeper each time but he couldn’t have put much of himself in because he wasn’t hurting me deep inside.
I wanted more.
My hips thrust up when he came back in, and he gave a small nod. “That’s it, Half-pint. You feel so damned good. Ready for more?”
“Fuck, yes, please.”
In mere moments, I floated above reality once again and he took me over the top into a screaming orgasm, and he was still fucking me when the room came back into focus.
“Damn.” I didn’t know what else to say. No one had ever rocked my world like Bubbles.
His one-sided grin told me he was rather proud of himself, but he pulled out and said, “Hands and knees, Half-pint.”
I rolled over and went to all fours, and he said, “Good girl. Stretch your hands up towards the headboard, so your chest is on the bed, and spread your knees a little more. That’s it. Perfect. This is called knees-and-chest.”
He swatted my bottom hard enough it stung, but it was a good sting, and my moan was a little embarrassing.
“We’re gonna have so much fun. Love the way you lose yourself in sex.”
I sucked air in when he pressed back inside me, and then breathed out and tried to push towards him, but I couldn’t in this position. He held me motionless, which would’ve ordinarily freaked me out, but with Bubbles, it was perfect because he knew exactly what he was doing and I only needed to be still and enjoy.
And I loved how vocal he was — I didn’t have to wonder if it was good for him because he moaned, grunted, growled, and even roared a few times. Meanwhile, I rode my bliss up and down hills and mountains. He knew when I needed a short breather, and then when I wanted more, and more, and more.
I have no idea how many times I came, or even if all of the releases were actual orgasms. Some were tiny, others were huge, some were good, others were fucking spectacular, but nothing about my first time with Bubbles was bad. Nothing.
Somehow, he knew when my insides were too sore and it wasn’t a good pain anymore, and he pulled out, turned me over, ripped the condom off, and beat off for twenty seconds before coming on my belly.
No one had ever come on me before. Both men had always came in the condom, and I was a little grossed out, and then a little mortified when he rubbed it into me, but then he said, “Needed to mark you — to make you mine. You can shower tomorrow, but I hope you’ll sleep with me like this, so you smell like me all night long.”
If that wasn’t just the most romantic thing ever, I didn’t know what was. I grabbed his shoulders, pulled us to each other, and kissed him with as much force and gusto as I could manage — I knew it wouldn’t compare to the way he could kiss me, but I wanted to show him how much he meant to me, how special this night had been, and how much I fucking wanted to belong to him.
He let me kiss him until I pulled back, and he put his hand to the back of my head and touched our foreheads to each other. “Feel the same way, Half-pint.”
I fell asleep in his arms, and awakened to my alarm at seven the next morning. I hit snooze and rolled over to go back to sleep, but he poked me in the ribs. “Alarm means get up. Doesn’t mean roll over.”
“Sure it does.”
I pulled the blanket over my head. “No.”
He yanked both the blanket and sheet off me, pulled me over his lap, and his hand hit my butt hard. I screamed, but it was cut short because his hand hit me again. And again. It was too fast for me to handle, too much, too hard. I scrabbled to try to get away but he held me with one hand and spanked with the other, and I was helpless to do anything except scream and try to breathe.
His hand is huge, and he spanks damned hard. It hurt just as much as his belt had — what had made me think his hand would be better? I kicked, screamed, and desperately tried to escape, but he held me firm and kept spanking. I yelled and screamed, and tears filled my eyes.
It felt like he hit me fifty times, but he told me later it was only a dozen, and that he planned to add six to that number if we had to do it again.
When he finished, he stood me beside the bed.
“You won’t be late to class again. Not on my watch. Shower. Now.”
I rubbed my bottom. “You can’t do that.”
He lifted a brow. “Keep it up and you’ll get the belt. We’ll discuss rules over breakfast, but there are going to be consequences for being late, or for making choices that will make you late.”
He let me shower and get ready without bugging me, and he handed me a bottled coffee when I came out of the bathroom. He also showed me a black bandanna, turned me so I could watch in the mirror, twirled my hair into a twist behind me, folded it up the top of my head, and expertly tied the bandanna to hold it all in. “When you take the helmet off and then the bandanna, it should go back to the way you had it fixed. Otherwise, it’ll be a mess when you get there.”
“I look like a biker chick.”
He laughed. “Pretty sure that’s what you are, Half-pint.”
A week ago, I’d have been horrified, but with Bubbles standing behind me, I was right where I wanted to be. Even though I could still feel his hot handprints on my bottom.
I followed him to the kitchen, and he had breakfast ready and waiting. I sat in my seat. “You’ll take me to class, pick me up, we get something to eat, and you’ll take me to work — right?”
He nodded. “We’ll go to the RTMC’s restaurant for dinner, and you can use the office to do homework when we finish. How sore are you from last night?”
I looked down, embarrassed. My insides were fucking raw, but I didn’t want to admit it. “I’m okay.”
He sighed, and I realized he’d probably seen that as a lie. “I’m sore, but I’m okay. It’s fine. I don’t regret a thing about last night.” We still needed to talk about this morning, though.
“But?”
How the fuck did he know there was a but?
“Why did you, umm…” Shit, how the hell was I supposed to ask? I was mortified, but I needed to know. “Why did you finish like that?”
He leaned around the table, lifted me, and brought me into his lap. No fucking way was he that strong, but he did it as if I were a five-pound doll.
“You’re short, I’m not. If I go all the way inside you, I’ll be up in your chest cavity. Not your fault, not my fault — it’s just the way things are. There are some work-arounds, but you aren’t ready for them yet.”
“So, you’ll never be able to…” I died a little inside. If I could never satisfy him, there was no way we’d work.
“I loved last night.” He cupped my cheek in his always-warm palm and tipped my head until I was looking at him. “There are work-arounds. It isn’t a big deal. One month of getting used to me, and we’ll start talking about the kinky alternatives, okay? Trust me?”
I was trusting him to keep me safe, could I trust him in this? I wasn’t sure.
“Where are we? I mean, we’ve only known each other a couple of days, and I have no right to ask for anything from you, but…” I stopped and tried again. “I haven’t been with anyone else in a long time, so promising not to see other people isn’t a big deal for me, but I have a feeling you screw around a lot.”
“I do, but I’m willing to give this some time, to see what happens.”
“So, you’re saying we’re, like, officially a thing?”
He laughed. “Yeah. You’re mine, and I’ll make that clear when I introduce you at the restaurant this afternoon. You good with meeting more of my friends, and possibly more ol’ladies?”
“I need more makeup.”
Okay, it might seem a shallow thing to say, but Gen had made me feel so damned insignificant, and I wasn’t going to feel that way around her again. I have to wear black scrubs to school, but I had a cute little outfit to change into for work, and it’d be fine to meet his friends. We all have our talents, and one of mine is the ability to look completely different with makeup.
“Whatever you need to make you comfortable.”
I took a fortifying breath. “I didn’t like the spanking. I don’t want you to do that again.”
“I’m a stickler about some things, and one of them is being on time. You were late to class and that’s what started this bullshit with Fury. Snooze buttons don’t exist in this house. The alarm goes off, you get up. End of story. You’ll be spanked for being late, or actions that will lead to being late. You’ll be spanked for bad grades. You’ll be spanked if you do something stupid and/or dangerous. You’ll be spanked if you don’t wear your seatbelt. Most things, we’ll handle at night after your shower, but some stuff works better if the spanking happens right away.”
I shook my head and stared at my plate.
“This is me, Lex. Most things, we can discuss and argue and even fight over, but some stuff isn’t negotiable. No sense arguing — makes more sense to handle it with a spanking and put it behind us.”
Okay, so in a weird, fucked up kind of way, that made sense. I started eating my breakfast without comment.
A few minutes later, I asked, “Have you heard how Fury’s doing?”
“No. Don’t expect to, either.”
When we finished eating, I cleaned the kitchen and went back to the bathroom to add to my makeup. Bubbles stood at the door and watched, his arms crossed while he leaned against the doorframe like an overlord.
I dug out the eyeliner and shadow I’d need, and got to work. Five minutes later, he said, “Fuck me. It’s like you’re some glamorous model, just stepped off a photo shoot. You’re a damned artist. That glittery shit should look ridiculous, but it makes me want to fuck you again.”
Good to know.