I nodded vehemently, "Yes. But what if some time I want to be in control instead? Here and there."
"You may tell me and I'll bend down to you, love. Anything for you. I'll still be more in control here, which is good, since you like the way I do it," I do, indeed. "But whenever you want to... I don't know, bind me and have your way with me, I don't see why not. Being in control doesn't mean I'll be always on top of you, love, as I do love to have you on top of me and riding me. I like it a lot."
My cheeks burned and I drank another sip of the juice, "I do too. But I loved the way you held my arms together above my head and fucked me wildly. Which is insane, as I always hated not being in control. You make me bend my rules to you," I whispered.
"I love to know that," he winked and fed me some of the waffles he made. "Come on, love, eat up. I need you strong. You need to eat a lot to have energy for what I'm planning on doing to you."
When I was going to say something naughty back, Я твоя by Nazima began to play loud upstairs and it was my time to curse. "Ugh, I thought I had put it on airplane mode."
"Is it your phone?" He arched his eyebrows. "It's a good song."
Nod. "Yes. And I have good musical taste," I winked and got up from his lap. "Sorry, I didn't want anything interrupting us."
He got up with me, "Just see who it is!"
"You have no reason to be jealous, Rafał," I chuckled when I took in the annoyed look on his face that was screaming jealousy.
"Who said I'm jealous?"
"It's okay. Before I realized it was your sister, I was planning thousands of ways to kill her," let's go by the honesty route. "Come," I took his hand and ran up the stairs. "It might be either my best friend checking up on me, or my mom, who thinks I'm in my best friend house."
That made him gasped, "Why does she thinks that?"
"Because she would become a pain in the ass if she learned what I planned on doing last night," I gave him an up and down look. "What I did. She's the hysterical type. And I got used to always going out by saying that I was going to my best friend house. Even if I was only going to do something alone, because she's that much of a pain," she's been like that since dad died and I saw she cheating on him before.
As I got to his closet where I had left my phone, it had stopped ringing, until it began again. He picked it up and looked at it. "There's about 25 messages from someone called Jam-Jam," he frowned. "And your mom's calling."
I could help laughing, "Jam-Jam is my best friend's nickname. She calls me Honeyboom. No jealousy on that," I picked the phone, taking a deep breath before accepting the call and switching to Polish. "What happened? Isn't it too early for you to be calling me, mother?"
She cursed in Greek, probably because little Cyryl must be near her, "I'm angry, I need to vent."
"I'm not a psychologist, mother. Vent to her. Or, you can walk in the gym and hit the punching bag. Very effective, I do that a lot," I mocked.
"Hey, tone down. I'm your mother!"
"Funny that you finally remembered that, dear," I clenched my jaw. "You only remember you have a daughter when you need to vent negative emotions, how ironic, no?"
"Damn it, Zofya, I need someone to talk to!"
"Wasn't you who told me you were my mother and not my friend? Why are you acting as if we were buddies now, mother? That's very hypocritical. Besides, you have my aunt. Vent to her!"
"I can't. She's sleeping," hah.
"And I was too," I lied. "But it's not like you care. Why am I not surprised? You are only mindful with two people, and I'm none of them."
"You don't sound like you were sleeping!"
I rolled my eyes annoyed and Rafał laced his arm on my waist, noticing how I was starting to get stressed. "How would you know that, mother? Last time you talked with me when had just woken up, I was 10. And it was because of a very horrible reason."
"Why are you so mean to me?" She gasped.
Clenching my jaw, I held my breath and counted to three, "Mean? Did you really just fucking called me mean, mother? Do you really want to talk to me about the reason I have to be or not mean to you? Shall I begin by alphabetical or chronological order?"
"You are impossible. It's impossible to talk to you, daughter. Impossible. You're just like your dad was when he was annoyed. Identical. No wonder you haven't gotten a boyfriend or girlfriend yet!" She mocked.
Clenching my hands, even the one who was holding the phone, I felt myself getting pale, "Yes, I'm impossible, because I'm your daughter. And don't talk about dad like that when he isn't here to defend himself. Definitely not in that manner. All the shit you two did to me and the traumas aside, I won't let you badmouth him like that. You ain't in a place to say shit, mother. And I'm not single, mother. I have a boyfriend who can put up with my attitude just fine."
"What?" She pretty much screamed and proceeded to curse in Greek again.
"Don't scream. My little brother in at home and he doesn't like loud noises. I'll go back to sleep, because I'm not your venting buddy. Try the punching bag in the gym, you will probably need it, since you don't feel like waking those you love so dearly, up. I'll be home on Monday. Ah, and I've decided what I want for my birthday, as you told me I could ask for anything, you better keep your word. Not that you are very strong on doing that."
Before she could say anything else, I hang up and quickly put it on airplane mode, before she could call again to question me. Pushing my phone away, I let out a frustrated growl and swallowed hard.
She is soooooooo going to give me a hard time when I get back.
When I turned my eyes to Rafał, he looked worried, "I'm sorry for this pitiful display of my poor family relationships, Rafał. My life is a mess when it comes to that," I switched back to English.
"It was quite attractive to see you fighting with your mom in Polish. I couldn't hear what she said, but she seemed angry," he put me up on the island of his closet again and hugged me tight. "And did you just tell your mom you're dating?"
"I did, but she'll make my life a living hell now," I growled. "I wasn't going to say anything yet, but ugh, she pushes my buttons. She does it on fucking purpose."
"I can relate with that," he then carried me on his arms bridal style again and headed down to the kitchen. "We ate breakfast. Do you know what comes know?" He smiled as he settled me over the kitchen island.
I clapped my hands, "Red Wine Floats!"
"Red Wine Floats!" He opened the fridge, picked the wine I chose earlier, the strawberry ice cream, put between us on the island and picked the milkshake glasses with the two straws I also picked earlier. Lastly, he picked the scoop to pick the ice cream. "Cross your legs or I'll be tempted to stand between them, and we never just stand still when we are like that, love."
Blushing, I crossed my legs over the countertop and turned to him. "Open the wine for me, Rafał."
"Of course, love," he winked and picked the screw for it, after a second, he gave me the bottle.
I filled half of our glasses with it and handed him the bottle to close it again, then I added two balls of strawberry ice cream over each of our wine glasses, put the straws and handed his to him. "Taste it."
"I want to taste yours first," he purred. "From your lips."
Giving him a naughty look, I took a long sip of my red wine float and put the glass aside, before bringing him closer to me and kissing him so he could taste it from my lips, as we did with my Pornstar Martini cocktail back in the pub. He held my neck and made me lean towards him so he could deepen the kiss, but when I was about to stretch my legs and cage him between them, he broke the kiss, biting my bottom lips.
"Delicious, love," he whispered sensually.
"You are delicious," I brought him closer again and pressed my lips on his, but not for long. "Ugh, let's finish this and put the dishes on the dishwasher," yes, I chose to wash the dishes just for he sake of helping him on something and not feel like I'm imposing.
"Yes, love," grinning, he sat down again and picked his Red Wine Float.
"This shirt is now mine, by the way, Rafał," I winked. "I can even use it as a dress if I put a belt on my waist."
A beaming smile took over his lips, "Yeah? I'll love that. You this one normally, as it's a dress shirt, it'll look good with knee-high boots and high heels. I'll give you a cotton one for you to sleep with."
I drank half of my glass in one long sip, "You understand of fashion too?"
"Of course. I have an amazing sense of fashion. That, and maybe I modeled sometimes in London. I have some friends who work in the core of famous brands like Dolce & Gabana, Armani, Prada, Versace, Saint Laurent and others, and give my looks, they asked me to model for them more than once. If my friends saw you, they would definitely ask you to model too, and probably ask us to model together," he tilted his head. "On you, though. But yes, love, I enjoy fashion and my figure."
"You really are full of surprises, aren't you?" I gasped in sheer amusement. "I wouldn't mind modeling. I've been asked to do it by some of my parents friends who work on the field, but I turned it down. May be because they asked me in the worse possible moments," around the time I was too busy grieving to give a shit about anything else, which lasted years. "Modeling with you would be also something I would be totally into doing. And yes, I can tell how much you take care of yourself. Your perfect body tells the tale."
"I put some work on it," he winked, taking a long sip of his dessert. "I can tell you do too, love. Your body is pretty much sculpted."
He's right, it is. "I go to the gym since I was 14, so, yeah," not as long as he'll think. "It helps. Muscular pain numb the real one. It was better to be too busy crying over how much my body hurts, than crying because my life was a wracked," as I finished the dessert, I put down the glass. "We all have a chapter of our life we don't want to re-read. But right now, I only want to focus on you. Nothing else but you. So, finish this damn thing already and come here, daddy. You've been torturing me all morning. I want you to lay me on your bed and," he stopped my words.
With a kiss tasting of wine and strawberry. This time, I locked my legs around him instantly, and pushed my body from the island to him. Holding me by my ass as I hugged his neck, Rafał walked out of the kitchen and to the living room, then to the wide couch that must fit three of him, where he laid me down on.
Kissing me, he began to undo the buttons of the shirt I'm in as he was done with it, he took out of me and then took the panties off and threw it on the ground. After getting rid of his shorts, he held his rock hard cock in his hand and opened my legs, "You said you did gymnastics, right?"
"Mmm, yes, daddy," I mumbled already drunk on him.
Without another word, he tested it out flexing my right leg up, "Hold your leg!" My body move unconsciously to do his biding, and I hugged my leg to my chest. "Your pussy is beautiful, baby girl. Really beautiful, soft, clean, and swollen. It's so ready for daddy's cock," he came over me, and pressed the fat head over his enormous cock, which slid inside easily given how wet I am after all his provocations. "That's my good girl, taking me so well. That ain't nobody like you, baby girl."
"Daddy, please," I cried, bringing him closer. "Don't torture me, daddy. Everything. Thrust everything. I need all of you in me, daddy. Please, fucked me hard and deep."
His eyes darkened, "Aren't you daddy's little slut?" He grinned lustfully, and as he held me tighter, he thrusted himself on me, balls deeps and hard enough to hurt.
"Yes, I'm your slut," I cried. "Yes, daddy, oh my God," I gasped. "It hurts so good, daddy. I need more. This isn't enough. Fuck me harder, daddy, please."
"Anything for you, baby girl," Rafał kissed me intensely and began to thrust deep, hard, violently the way I love the most. The way he knows sends me to the edge.