Page 24 of Sweet Shots

“I said no kissing,” he pants when I pull away.

I smirk. “Yeah, well, looks like you changed your mind.”

Chapter Nine

Mikah

I’m a professional. I’m a professional. I’m a professional.

I’m a fucking professional!

No matter how many times I repeat those words in my head, I can’t help but want to throw the entire thing aside and just… give in to him. We’ve already gone so far off script it’s ridiculous, and though I am mad… I’m not mad.

How I’m both angry and not, I don’t know. I mean, how is that even possible? It’s like I’m pissed that he’smademe okay with going off script, but I’m not actually mad about going off script. Because god al-fucking-mighty, this is so hot.

I should have hooked up with someone before doing this. I knew it. I said it. Yet, I didn’t do it.Why?

It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, and I’ve been fine. I swear I’ve been fine with just my hand and my toys, but his hands on me are making me realize how much I miss touch. I love sex. I love orgasms. I love feeling good. And fuck,it really is so much better with another person. It was a mistake to do this while my body was starved for attention, but I guess I was so hungry for it because it had been so long that I didn’t realize I needed it. It became normal for me. I’m like a desperate little attention whore for him and I hate it.

The worst part is he fucking loves it.

And that makesmelove it.

Which makes me hate it even more!

But it’s like every time I show an ounce of annoyance, he does something to put me back in my place and my bodyrespondsinstead of my mouth telling him to fuck off.

This is crazy. So fucking crazy. None of these emotions and feelings make sense. He’s somehow turned me into his puppet. A little whore puppet that’s at his mercy.

This is why I wanted the intimate stuff off limits. I know myself, I know how I get. How did I allow myself to fuck up so badly?

I knew messing with Dominic would be a mistake. He’s too close to the type of person I need in my life personally—intimately. If only he weren’t such an annoyingly arrogant full-of-himself prick, he may even be someone I’d want to date. It’s the looks and his dominating personality that make me want him. Nothing more. Let’s make that clear:nothing more.

He’s disrespectful and borderline narcissistic. Never mind the fact he wastes money like he has a never-ending supply of it, which I know to be complete bullshit because that’s impossible. My attraction to Dominic is purely physical and maybea little mental because of the dominating aspect, but that’s it. It’s not emotional in any sense, other than me being needy and attention-starved. I’ve thought the guy was attractive from the first moment I saw him—who the hell wouldn’t? And he’s charming as hell. I know this about him, and I let my guard down. I’m only human.

At least I can say all of this is just for work. Because it totally is. I’m putting on a show for my fans, the same way he’s doing. This is for money. Because I need money.

“Up on the bed,” he rasps out, jerking his head toward the top of the bed.

When I move, I realize how badly I’m shaking. How hard my dick is. How close I am to coming, which is fucking insane because I don’t remember the last time I came in my pants without having to touch myself, but I think I’m right there.

There’s something about the way this feels like he’s worshiping me. He’s on his knees for me, yet trying to control me at the same time… it’s making me delusional. It’s almost like he’s tricking me into thinking I’m in control even if I’m not… fucking manipulative prick.

“Sit up more,” he says, and I scoot myself up so I’m leaning against the headboard. He goes to the table and grabs a few things, then comes back. There’s a cup of chocolate mousse in one hand and the chocolate sauce in the other. He straddles my waist, sitting on my dick just the right way, which has me biting my cheek so I don’t moan out loud. I won’tgive him the satisfaction, but when my eyes open, he’s smirking, knowing exactly what he did.

I swear I’ll never look at chocolate the same again, and I’m going to regret doing this for the rest of my life.

Dropping the chocolate bottle to the bed, he grabs a spoonful of the dessert and offers it to me. Tentatively, I take it, which makes him smirk.

Chad has moved to the side of the bed to get better shots. I open my mouth to let Dominic feed me, and for some stupid reason, my hands move to his thighs. They’re strong, muscular. Sexy. Too fucking sexy. What would they feel like without the jeans on?

I slide my hands up his sides, then over his stomach as I lick my lips clean of the chocolate. Dominic’s skin is smooth and warm. I let them rest there for just a moment before going back down to rest on his legs. Totally for the photo. We have to look like we like each other, like we’re into each other. Yeah, that’s why I’m gripping his thighs right now. It’s all for the money.

He feeds me another bite, this time leaning in with it and when he pulls the spoon away, he drops it and grips my chin, forcing his tongue into my mouth—again.

This time I can’t stop the moan that escapes my throat. Leaning forward has him crushing my dick again, and I swear he’s rocking against me on purpose. And the way he controls this kiss, dominating my mouth in some sick, slow torturous way? It’s fucking heaven. Heaven and hell, because this man is the devil.

He pulls away, sitting up and giving some relief to my dick, which only has me throbbing and wanting him to lean back down. If he grinds his weight on me a few more times, I’ll come…

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