I had her, she was mine. But I wanted her to want it. To want me.
I swallowed as she raised her arms for the girl to slide a short black dress over her head. This one hung loose to the low waist and had long sleeves with slits all the way through.
“Best part,” the girl said, turning Lucia so she had her back to me. The back was cut out to the hips, accenting the silhouette of her figure seductively.
I nodded. “I want to see that one.” I pointed to another, and the girl quietly obeyed, undressing Lucia and dressing her again. Turning her this way and that, all while my cock grew harder, Lucia’s submission turning me on as much as having her naked did.
Once she’d gone through the rest of the dresses, the girl left us.
“What are we doing?” Lucia asked as she stood before me in just her panties and those sandals, her hands over her breasts, the spell broken.
“We’re shopping. Don’t cover your breasts.”
For a moment, she resisted, her eyes questioning. But then, she obeyed and dropped her arms to her sides.
“Turn around.”
She did, presenting me with her ass still clad in lace. I stood. She glanced over her shoulder but then faced the wall again.
“Hands up on the wall.” I stood close enough to make sure she felt my breath on her shoulder, the heat of my body pulsing against hers. Leaning down, I inhaled the clean scent of her hair, watched her nipples harden and goose bumps rise along the flesh of her arms. “I like looking at you, Lucia.” I pressed my erection against her hip. “You don’t know how badly I want you.”
She swallowed as I ran the knuckles of one hand along her hip, then slid two fingers along the edge of her panties. “I like these.” With both hands now, I traced the outline of lace on the soft swell of her ass. I then dragged them upward, exposing more of her cheeks as I set the material in the split between them, then tugged upward.
Lucia gasped.
“I like your ass.” I wrapped one hand around to pinch her nipple. “I like your breasts.” I slid it down over her belly and into her panties to cup the wet mound of her sex. “And I like your pussy.” I rubbed her clit as she leaned against me, softening, a small moan escaping her lips. Wrapping my free hand around her neck, I drew her against me, still playing with the slick folds of her sex as I ground my cock against her back. “I want to bury my cock inside your pussy, Lucia. I want to bend you over here and fuck you so hard, everyone in this damn place knows it. Knows you’re getting fucked. Knows you’re mine.”
She stiffened at my words, resisting, but her body jerked as she neared orgasm.
“Stop.” Her voice was weak. A half-hearted plea.
“Give it to me.”
“I…”
I pinched her clit, and she fisted her hands, leaning her forehead into the wall.
“Please. Don’t. Not here.”
“Come.”
She shook her head but stayed as she was, not attempting to free herself, to drag my hand from her pussy.
“Come.”
“No… Fuck.”
Her knees buckled, but I kept her pressed against me, this time gripping a handful of hair and tugging her head backward. “Come, and I’ll release you.”
“I…said…no.”
“Stubborn.” I turned her to face me, kissed her, and worked her clit hard between thumb and forefinger. Her mouth opened to mine, and her arms wrapped around my neck, pushing and pulling, so close to orgasm yet resisting with all she had.
She broke away. “I…won’t.”
But I took her mouth again, and this time, I slid the hand that held her hair down into her panties, parting her ass cheeks, pressing my finger there, rubbing her tight little asshole until her knees gave way, and she cried out, gripping my neck, burying her face in my chest to stifle her moans as she came, her pussy soaking my fingers, my hand, her weight fully supported by me as her body gave out. She sighed, her breathing short, her eyes wet and dark when she turned them up to me. I wrapped my arms around her, smiling, victorious.
“I hate you,” she murmured, closing her eyes when I claimed her mouth for the kiss I took, triumphant again.
“I’m not hungry.”
“But you are stubborn,” I said to Lucia, leaning in closer. “You’re eating. Choose something, or I’ll choose for you.”
She glared but acquiesced. “Fine. I’ll have the mushroom ravioli.”
“Ravioli it is,” the waiter said, giving me a look and taking our menus.
Once the clothes had been paid for, Lucia had dressed in the black backless dress, and we’d headed to a small Italian restaurant for dinner.
“I can’t show my face at Nordstrom again. You know that, right?”