Filed to story: I Slept With My Ex's Father (Olivia & Dylan) Book PDF Free
“You’ll need to clean yourself up before you leave your office, Olivia.”
I spring myself up off the door and try to straighten myself out too. However, I don’t seem to have the same dexterity to bring me back to a reality before Dylan all but fucked me against my office door.
Dylan laughs through closed lips, his eyes crisping at the sides.
I’ve never seen this look from him, the kind that is…endeared to something. That something being me.
“Clean yourself up…” He runs a hand down the side of my head, catching a few fly-aways in his fingers.
Then, he slides past me and opens the door.
I start to gasp, stepping backward, further into the office. What the hell is he doing?
“I want to remodel room eleven.” His voice is stronger than it needs to be as he looks at me over his shoulder. “Finish up what you’re doing, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
I watch him go, saying his hellos to members as he walks through the main member area toward The Underground door.
Oh.
Oh.
“Sounds good,” I say as calmly as I can.
Dylan smiles at me over his shoulder and then disappears into The Underground.
I gulp and sit back down at my computer. I don’t know how long I should wait to make this look like a natural meet-up between boss and employee. Just two people discussing a room in the BDSM dungeon. Nothing at all unsavory about that.
I click around on the spreadsheet I was looking at before, but my eyes aren’t seeing anything, and my brain certainly isn’t thinking anything but
Dylan.
Dylan’s lips on my lips. His hands on my body. His body pressed to mine.
Am I about to fuck Dylan Hill? My boss?
My ex-boyfriend’s dad?
Does any of that even matter at this point?
Yes. No.
I know what I want, and I know he needs me just as much as I need him, so we can have this today. Right?
Besides, there are worse things I could do. I could commit arson. Or worse, murder. Having sex with someone because my body can’t cope without it is not a bad thing. Let’s call it self-care.
After only two minutes, I stand up from my desk, glancing at myself in the reflection of the window for a single moment to make sure I’m tuned up and not looking suspicious. Then, I walk through the club to The Underground.
As I go, I can’t focus on anything but the bubbling warmth between my thighs. Though Dylan isn’t pressed up against me, hard and wanting, I am still throbbing as if he is.
Soon, Olivia.
However, as I open the door to The Underground, I realize I don’t know what to expect. This isn’t just a moment of passion that will culminate in fucking.
Dylan called me a brat. He said he had to tame me.
I shiver. I never imagined the thought of being tamed would get me so hot. But here we are.
Maybe Dylan is right. Maybe he is the first man who might know how to handle me.
I say hello to Morgan who is serving a shift as dungeon master and then Hazel who I cross paths with as I cross the main area.
She regards me with a slight, sneaking smile.
“Dylan and I are checking out room eleven. Considering a remodel.”
“Of course.” She nods.
Something tells me she doesn’t believe that for a second. But if there’s anyone in the club I’m alright being suspicious about my “professional” relationship with Dylan, it would be the Doms and subs. They are required to keep confidentiality for everyone’s sake. I know she won’t cross me.
I make my way down to room eleven.
The door is closed.
I put my hand on the knob and take a breath. I rack my brain to remember what room eleven looks like, but I can’t. Even when I shut my eyes and try to paint the picture, it’s impossible.
Breathe.
He won’t hurt you.
I force myself to open the door. And though I saw Dylan only a few minutes ago, I can’t help but swoon.
He’s taken off his jacket and tie, tossed them over a chair in the corner. He’s rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down. “That was quick.” He doesn’t look at me.
I swallow.
Against one wall is a padded leather ‘x’ with restraints attached to it. I’ve been told this is called a St. Andrew’s cross. It scares the hell out of me.
Steering clear of it, I obey when Dylan demands I sit at the end of a chair in the middle of the room that looks like it has stirrups attached to the end of it.
Dylan comes toward me and presses the door closed, lingering over me, only inches away. A smile crosses his lips before he cups the side of my face.
I poise my lips to be kissed, but he speaks instead.
“Have you ever been with a Dom, Olivia?”
I shake my head. I’ve had guys who prefer to be on top, like to be in charge. But somehow, I think this is so much more than that.
“Alright, then let me explain the rules to you. While we are inside this room, I am in control at all times. In control of your body. Of your pleasure. Of how and how often you get to come.” His thumb grazes my lower lip. “If you get to come at all.”
“What-“
A grin broadens his lips. “Did I give you permission to speak, pet?”
Pet?
Oh god. Why do I like that nickname so much?
I shake my head. “But-“
He kisses me silent.
I resist puddling at his feet. Each kiss weakens my muscles. It won’t be hard to be under his complete control, that’s for sure.
“This is about you giving me control over you. Even if for just this session.”
“I don’t know how this all is supposed to work. With all the…” I look over at the wall where rows and rows of toys hang from hooks.
Dylan guides my face back toward his. “We will keep it simple today. We never have to touch any of that if you don’t want to.”
He skims his hand up and down my arm. It’s unlike any image of domination I’ve ever had. He is in control of me without having to yell or grab or press. It is just inherent in the way he speaks.
“Today, I will touch you. I will tease you.” He pauses. “I will fuck you.”
I gasp.
“And if it is ever too much, you just have to-“
“A safe word.”
He chuckles. “Yes, my swan, a safe word.”
I warm at the reminder of that first night. The way he knew me at the very beginning.
“Green means everything is good, and we are good to continue. Yellow means you are unsure about something, which is kind of like hitting a pause button. We stop for a bit and talk about it so that together we decide if we do something or not. Red means stop. No questions asked. You so much as whisper it, and everything stops. I check on you, we get dressed, and leave this room.”
“Just like that?” It can’t be that easy.
“Just like that.” He is so calm, so firm about what he is saying. “Here is the thing most people don’t understand about the lifestyle, swan. Though the Dom is in control at all times, the power is all in the hands of the sub. In this case, you.”
What is he talking about? If he is the one doing the tying up, the spanking, the controlling, or whatever this is about, how is the power mine?
