The Dominator (52 page)

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Authors: DD Prince

BOOK: The Dominator
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“And for you. I want our wedding day to be the happiest day of your life.” He added softly. I looked at him with tears in my eyes.  He squeezed my hand and then kissed each knuckle.

Soaring. My heart was definitely soaring.

“Have you found out anything else?” I asked, after recovering.

He shook his head, “No. But I think we should talk to your father. Get more info. Have him over. How do you feel about that?” he jerked his chin up when I didn’t reply right away. I didn’t know. I finally shrugged.

“We’ll talk more later.” We were pulling up to the front gate, “When we get inside, I have to make a quick phone call. When I’m done, I’m coming up and we’re going to play. In the mood to play?”

I was surprised. I smiled at him, “Play what?”

He smiled wickedly at me as we got on the other side of the gates, “Play cock slave?” Then he brought my hand to his mouth again and took my index finger in between his teeth and raised a brow.

I smirked, “Hmmm. You missed out on that offer, Sir. How about ping pong?”

“Uh uh.” He let go of my hand and reversed into the garage.

“Monopoly?”

“Nope.” He put it in park.

“Strip poker?”

“Hmmm. By George, I think you’ve got something there…” We got out.

I laughed.

“I have a deck of cards in the game room downstairs. You get down there and shuffle them and wait for me,” he said and then he unlocked the front door, “Be prepared to lose the shirt off your back,” He winked.

When we got inside he headed to his office and I headed down to the basement. The games room was totally awesome and I’d been spending considerable time down there the last few days. Ping pong and pool tables, big home theatre, foosball, the arcade games (I still hadn’t beat Dario’s Ms. Pacman high score but I was close). The poker table had a storage drawer underneath and it contained several brand new decks of cards. I had a thought.

I ran upstairs to the bedroom and stripped out of my yellow sundress, the one Tommy had bought when we were at the farm. Then I put on a sexy pair of black underwear with matching bra and a pair of black stay-up fishnet stockings.  Then I layered on a t-shirt, a hoodie, a vest, a pair of tights, track pants, and then a pair of his jeans (mine wouldn’t fit over all those layers. I had to roll his up at the bottom about half a dozen times as they were just way too long). Then I put on two pairs of socks and booted it back downstairs.

He was sitting on the poker table with no shirt on, looking sexy with his muscled arms folded across his chest. He stared at me, “Wondered where you got to,” his face lit up with humor, “Hitting the ski slopes?”

“I’m just not sure how good you are at poker. I thought I might need an advantage.” The fact that he was already half undressed either spoke to him giving me an advantage or to him being anxious for the payout.

He wiggled his eyebrows at me and then took the deck of cards out of the box and did this fancy card shuffling in mid-air thing. Yikes. He laughed at my horror-stricken face.

Not long later he had only taken off one sock and I was down to the bra and panties and stockings. My gigantic heap of clothing was on the floor between us and he was very pleased at the surprise lingerie under all those layers.

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he told me as he lifted me up so that my stocking-clad legs were wrapped around his waist, “We never got our Neapolitan last night.” He carried me up the basement stairs and into the kitchen. I held on tight, tonguing his earlobe, until he put me on the kitchen counter and then opened the freezer. Sure enough, there was a carton of Neapolitan ice cream, “Hey, lookie lookie,” he said. He opened a drawer and got a spoon and spooned a bit of vanilla up and got between my legs and put it in my mouth, “Mmm.” I said, “Not a thing wrong with vanilla.” I hadn’t seen that there yesterday. When had he gone to the store?

“Nothing at all,” he replied and licked the empty spoon.  Then he dipped his tongue into my mouth and added an “Mmm.”  The he dipped the spoon back into the carton, “Tonight I feel like some chocolate, though.” He scooped up a big scoop of chocolate and put it in his mouth. Then his lips were on mine and he shared what was in his mouth with me. It was so sexy, so intimate. I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist and threaded my fingers into his hair.

“I see what type of ice cream to get next time I go shopping,” came a familiar female voice. Oh no. Shit!

Sarah was in the doorway between the kitchen and the back hallway with her suitcase. With me on the kitchen counter in underwear and a bra with my stocking-clad legs wrapped around his waist, bra straps hanging down off my shoulders and him in just a pair of jeans that were half way undone plus him wearing just one sock…yikes!

“Goodnight.” She chuckled. I couldn’t look her in the eye but her smile could’ve lit up the neighborhood.

“Goodnight, Sarah,” Tommy re-shut the hallway pocket door and locked it, effectively blocking the staff quarters from the kitchen.

“Ohmygod!” I was mortified. Tommy dropped the spoon on the counter and plunked the ice cream back into the freezer and then picked me back up, straddling him like before, and kissed between my breasts as he carried me up the stairs. It was as if we hadn’t just gotten caught almost doing it on the kitchen counter.

When we were back in the bedroom he turned off all the lights but one dim lamp, then he laid me on the bed on my back and lavished my breasts with affection as I pushed his jeans the rest of the way off with my feet. My panties weren’t coming off, they were shoved to the side instead and then he was inside of me. He thrust in and out two or three times, then breathed, “You here for me, baby?”

I frantically nodded.

“You gonna give me what I need?”

I nodded some more, running my fingers through his hair and thrusting my pelvis at him,

“You my little cock slave?”

“Mmm hmmm,” I thrust my tongue into his mouth.

“Mmm. Bend over my lap.” He pulled out and sat.

I blinked for a second or two and then directed my mind to forget about Vegas. We weren’t there and there was no anger on his face. I crawled over him eagerly.

He started running his hand up and down my ass, and then he hauled off and gave it a slap, sending my pelvis down, flat across his lap. He ended the slap with fingers digging in, not painfully, possessively.  This didn’t feel like punishment, this was fuck-hot!

It filled me with lust, made me so wet down below and I was almost seeing stars in the dim room. His fingertips slid under the lace of the panties and teased me for a few strokes and then he took his hand away.

I was so into this right now. I lifted my rear end into the air and he slapped it again and murmured, “Greedy girl.”

I moaned. Yes, I could be what he wanted; all his. I could make sure he had what he needed. I could give him me, let him have me, it’d be what he wanted and exactly what he needed and the idea of that got me so wet, so ready. He slapped my ass again, “You like that?”

“Yes, baby.” I answered, feeling so wanton, so his.

He slapped me again and this time grabbed my ass harder. It hurt but I let myself feel it and then gave in to it and the feeling --- it was so freeing. Then he leaned over and bit down on my butt cheek. I squealed in surprise and pain. He let out a deep throaty laugh and then went, “Mmmm, you’re so fucking mine, you know that?”

“Yes.” I answered all breathy and feeling all emotional.

“Beg for it,” he whispered.

“Please, Tommy.”

“You want me to spank you?”

“Yes, please.” Oh fuck, oh please.

“You want me to fuck you?”

‘Oh, yeah, Tommy.”

“Yeah what?”

“Please, Tommy.”

He put me on the bed on my knees and then took me from behind, holding my hair in a ponytail at the nape of my neck.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me, Tommy.”

“Mmm…I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Tommy.”

“Forever.”

“Forever, baby.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“Love you so much, Tommy.”

“Good girl.”

Goosebumps rose all over me. I melted at that.

“Say it again,” he grunted against my ear.

“It again.”

Slap. “Ouch!” I laughed.

“Naughty girl.”

I laughed again.

“I like it when you’re a little bit naughty, you know that?”

“Mmm.”

“Why do I like it when you’re naughty?” he squeezed my ass really hard.

“You get to punish me for being naughty,” I answered hoarsely and he moaned,

“That’s right. I get to spank this sexy ass. I want to fuck this sexy ass, too.”

My throat went instantly dry. He flipped me over and kissed me hard. I kissed him hard right back. My ass cheeks were on fire, my girlie parts, practically begging for it. He gave it to me hard and fast, thankfully not in the ass (I was flipped out by that idea) and it didn’t last very long but we both came hard.  I fell asleep pretty quickly afterward but woke up to him whispering to me, “Athena,”

“Mmm.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tommy.” I put my palm to his cheek.

“Do you really? Or have I just fucked you up so much that you think you
have to
love me so you can survive me?”

I opened my mouth but for a second but nothing came out, then “I don’t know” spilled out and sorrow lanced through me.

 

Tommy

I pulled her tight to me and just fucking broke, “Thank you, baby girl. Thank you for being honest. I know I’m a fucking asshole and I’ve hurt you so bad and messed with your head and I don’t deserve you but please hang in there with me. I’ll try. I’ll try to be what you need, try so fucking hard. Keep being honest, okay? You are everything to me, do you understand me? You’re more important than the family, the money, the power, the control, any of it. Be strong for me, baby. I need you to be strong. Don’t let me break you. Please don’t let me break you.”

She clutched me what must’ve been as tight as she could, “I won’t. You’re worth loving, Tommy. You are worthy of real love and that’s what you are going to get from me, okay? And I’ll be everything you need, too, okay? I will love you and be yours forever. I won’t break.” She wiped the tears from my cheeks with her fingers and put her lips to my chin.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, kissed her nose, and then we fell asleep locked together.

 

Tia

I meant it. I wanted him to know unconditional love. I think that’s what he needed. Why did I fall in love this man who had fucked with my head so much? It was a combination of things, maybe.  Maybe it was what he’d been through and that I thought my love could cure him. It must be unconditional if I was still willing to be in this at this point, right? I told myself I was strong enough, that I could endure, for him, for myself.

I think feeling unconditional love, the love a mother can give, was a missing ingredient from his childhood, maybe because his Mom died so young and his father was so driven but such a dirty dog having all those different women around and no one to really raise Tommy properly, teach him the right morals. Sure Sarah was sweet but obviously he lacked the maternal figure he needed. I lacked it too, in the years between my Mom and Rose but Rose had
so
made up for it and Susie had been amazing, too, going far beyond what I saw some of the other girls in care got.

Was I fucked up as a result of what I’d been through with him? Maybe. No, probably. But with the glimpses he’d shown me of who he was underneath what his father had made him become, I wanted him. I wanted to help him see he could be who he was meant to be. I’d been pushing away my dark thoughts, reaching for the light. The last few honeymoonish days had helped. It felt like we were gearing up for something big. It was like it was fortifying me for what was to come because I knew how things
could
be. Yeah, there was dark. This was a man who didn’t hesitate to kill his enemies. This was a man who had been rough with me, too rough with me. But this was a man who had also shown me that he loved me, that he’d keep me safe, that he’d risk his life for me. I wanted him to feel loved. I wanted my love to be what made him want to stay in the light.

If giving him justification made me fucked up, so be it. There were a lot of fucked up people in the world who had evolved because of what they’d been through. I wanted my happily ever after. Would I get it with Tommy? I sure hoped so. He’d told me when he first got me here that he looked forward to breaking my spirit. Now he was begging me to never let him break it. I sure hoped I could honor that wish of his. When I woke up he was holding me close but he was awake, staring at the ceiling, looking like a tortured soul. 

Sadness swept through me at his facial expression. I was no stranger to coming to terms with having a fuck up father who put his own needs before his kids. The two situations weren’t really the same but I still got it. I was still coming to terms, myself, with what I’d heard on that recording, admission that my Dad’s relationship with me was broken because of my mother’s death, and his selfish requests. Things were already screwed with the father daughter thing so he’d might as well get his lifelong dream of being a wise guy out of it.

When I’d seen Tom Sr. yesterday a part of me wanted to spit in his face, to demand answers. But another part of me just felt numb. I had been forced to face and feel so much in the past several weeks. I didn’t know how to categorize my feelings. I just knew I had to put one foot in front of the other and move forward somehow. At least I had Tommy with me. He’d help me, he’d protect me. And I’d help him and I’d give him what he needed at the end of every hard day ahead of him.

“I’m calling Greg today. I have more questions for him.” He said without looking at me, aware I was awake and watching him.

I snuggled into his side and put my lips to his shoulder and started to trace the outlines of his tattoo with my fingertip.

“I’ll have him here this afternoon. You can decide if you want to talk to him or leave him to me.”

“Kay,” I said, not sure which option I’d choose. Tommy kissed me on the mouth and then kissed between my breasts, then my navel, then gave me a devilish grin on the way down farther. Sex was a good distractor from our problems. A very good distractor.

 

Tommy

I had evidence corroborating Earl’s story. Regardless of why he did what he did, he took her from me and that was unforgivable. His son Michael had stumbled upon the meth situation because Michael was using and selling and spotted Pop leaving the house of his dealer’s dealer.

Earl was dead and gone; I’d shot him after I’d tracked him down, after he told me why. He knew he was a goner when he saw me. He told me that he had a feeling when she was given back to me that I’d be coming for him. He told me he didn’t think, at first, I’d get involved. Never thought I was the type to be a girl’s hero. My father didn’t get involved in these sorts of things since Tia was just a pawn, Earl had known about her father and my Pop’s quest to ruin the man’s life. He didn’t think I’d come for her. But he expected my Pop to get lured down here after all was said and done and that’s when Earl would get his chance for revenge. He told me it wasn’t personal.

When he told me what’d happened I didn’t believe him at first. Pop wasn’t ever very heavily into the drug game from what I knew. Yeah, he’d said he profited from cocaine here and there back in the 70’s and 80’s but didn’t bother nowadays, other than weed, which we made good money from, and which I didn’t classify with the heavier stuff, he’d said he didn’t like to get involved with heavier drugs. It was now obvious he’d been keeping it from me.

My PI showed proof that he was moving about $2M every few weeks through a few guys locally and with that, who knew what else he was into? He wasn’t directly involved but he’d financed the start-up of a lab and was making a good chunk of change off it. But my PI also talked to Michael’s girlfriend, who admitted she had told Earl after Michael died about the meth and that Michael had been worried about seeing Tom Ferrano leave his dealer’s dealer’s house. Earl did some investigating of his own and put the pieces together. The girlfriend died of an overdose a few days after my PI talked to her.

My father was set up for retirement. He was set up for leaving all his kids enough money to live comfortably on (although Dare and I had already set ourselves up and didn’t need Pop’s dough) as well as leaving money to set his young wife up for life. He had thriving businesses that were run by his people and that continually brought profit. So why was he in the meth game? It was ego, power, it was all so important to Pop. If there was a business where money could be made, he wanted in. Wanted to be seen as a master of all trades. It made me wonder how on earth he’d retire to the Caymans with Lisa. If he was still in the day to day shit of this life when me and Dare practically ran Ferrano Enterprises and the subsidiaries for him, would he really let go for retirement? Or had I gone through all these motions for nothing? It made no sense; he was practically shoving me down the aisle so he could hand me the reins but why was he dabbling in new business, shadier than fuck business, at the same time? Had he had Michael’s girlfriend killed because my PI was hot on his heels?

Signs pointed to evidence that Tia’s Uncle Joe’s death wasn’t an accident. Brake failure on his car during a snowstorm and he’d been out on this crazy winding stretch of road that was known for being a bad accident area. He was out on an errand for Pop during that storm. Pop gained a fuck of a lot from Joe’s death.

Wife number 3, Stacia: she crashed into a tree and died of head injuries. Her airbag didn’t go off.  They found drugs in her system and figured she fell asleep at the wheel. But she wasn’t a known drug user. What she was, was a shrew. She was always getting up in Pop’s grill about shit. She was a former model, she was gorgeous. High maintenance. Did Pop get sick of her? He married Lisa, friends with the girls, just 4 months after Stacia died. Lisa was just as beautiful as Stacia but without the high maintenance. And Lisa got along great with the girls. Stacia and my sisters hated one another so Pop never got his Sunday dinners with his family around him until he married Lisa.

Maybe I’d talk to Annette, mother to Dare and the girls.  She was alright to me growing up. I wouldn’t say she treated me like a son, she always seemed a little afraid of me, it seemed. Never disciplined me; wasn’t affectionate. But was real affectionate with her own kids. Maybe I needed to get information from her to help put some of the puzzle pieces together.  I hadn’t talked to Dare yet. I didn’t know how he’d take all of this. I knew he’d believe me, I mean the evidence was right in front of us but spilling my guts would hurt my brother. Laying out the sort of man our father might really be, the man behind the mask, it wouldn’t be a fun conversation. Did I want him to feel what I felt right now? I guess I had to; it was the only way forward.

As for Lita O’Connor, I didn’t know if she’d offed herself or if Pop had something to do with it. Had it been a car accident, I wouldn’t have had a doubt in my mind. But slit wrists in the tub? I found out her tox screen came up clear so it wasn’t like Pop could’ve drugged her and then slit her wrists, not likely.  There was nothing on the coroner’s report that pointed to any struggle, any bruises on her or anything like that.

I’d have a discussion with O’Connor today and then I’d go from there. I didn’t know if he could tell me any more than I already knew but I also wanted Tia to have an opportunity to put things to rest, too.

 

Tia

When I got downstairs that morning Sarah was in the kitchen.

“Good morning Chiquita!” (She never called me Tia) She poured me a coffee and then I watched her put 1.5 sugars in it. That was pretty bold, considering I hadn’t seen her in more than a week and had been putting my 3 sugars in consistently. I accepted the cup, tasted it, then leaned over and fetched the sugar. She smirked at me.

“Tell me about your trip!” I said and sat down, trying not to blush too hard about what she’d walked in on last night. I spent the next hour listening to her tell me about her relatives, about her holiday. She asked me about our trip. I told her about the Blue Man Group, I told her I won $5,000.00 on the slot machines, and then she asked me why our wedding had been postponed.

“Tommy’s busy. We’re just going to wait until things are less crazy,” I said.

“So you’re happy with him? You see what a good man he can be?” she asked.

“I am. And I do.” I answered. Tommy was strolling into the kitchen at that point. He stopped and gave me a narrow-eyed look. I smiled hesitantly.

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