I had to think of escaping, Running away through the window.
Saving myself.
But no this was when my body wanted to have him the most. My body wanted him. My hands wanted to run down those hard abs of his. He haven’t touched me in a while. Too many distractions and let’s just say that I…may miss it.
A bit.
My nipples were hard. My pussy wet. I could feel it as I walked.
I followed him out of the dining room like a woman walking into fire barefoot. Every step upstairs made the ache between my legs worse. My body throbbed with memory, of his fingers, his breath, that wicked calm while I melted under the table like a secret.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t look back. Just walked slow enough for me to hear the quiet authority in his movements.
Like he already knew I’d follow.
Dominic opened the door to his room and stepped aside. Held it for me like a gentleman. Like this wasn’t a fucking trap for
- me.
I walked in.
The room smelled like cedar and leather and him. The curtains were drawn, but the moonlight leaked in through the edges, silvering everything.
He closed the door behind us.
Locked it.
That click made my heart jump–and my thighs clench.3
“You came,” he said, voice low.
“You made me,” I snapped.
“I didn’t touch your legs. Didn’t drag you.” He stepped closer. “You followed me, Aria. Wet between your thighs and pretending it was hate.”
I hated how true that was.
He reached for the hem of my dress. I slapped his hand away.
“No,” I said.
His jaw ticked–but he didn’t touch me again. Just stood there, shirt unbuttoned, chest rising and falling like he was trying not to break something.
“Then tell me what you want,” he said. “Tell me what to do.”
I swallowed. My nipples ached. The dress clung to my skin like I’d been dipped in fever. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream.
I wanted to grab him by the hair and ride him until I forgot how to hate him.
I stepped toward him. Slowly.
He didn’t move.
I pressed my palms to his chest, felt the muscle tense under my touch. His heart was racing. So was mine.
“Take off your shirt,” I said.
He obeyed immediately, peeling it off and letting it drop to the floor.
My hands slid down his chest. Over his abs. To the belt.
I unbuckled it. Slowly. Watching his eyes darken.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said. “You can punish me later.”
I pushed his pants down.
His cock sprang free–hard, thick, already leaking
cum for ine Successfully unlocked!
feel him shake beneath me. Knowing that his
rowing
Yes I hated him but I loved sucking his cock. Panting v most vulnerable part was in my hands.
I gave me that control. That power.
I didn’t even let him touch me. I just dropped to my knees.
1/3
Chapter 89
He hissed, hand flexing as I wrapped my lips around him, taking him deep until I could feel the weight of him against the back of my throat
He cursed
“Fuck, Aria-
But I didn’t stop.
I owned this moment.
I controlled his pleasure, his body, the way his thighs trembled when I sucked him slow, then fast, then slow again until he was panting.
His hand went to my hair–just resting. Not pulling. Not forcing.
“Look at me,” he said hoarsely.
I did. Eyes wide, mouth full of him, cheeks hollowed.
He groaned like a man dying.
I pulled back with a wet pop, wiping my lips.
He reached down, lifted me in one brutal motion, and tossed me onto the bed like I weighed nothing
The dress was gone in seconds.
My panties were soaked–he tore them in half.
“Fucking soaked for me,” he growled, spreading my thighs and staring like a man starved. “And you still pretend you don’t want this.”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
And he did.
One thrust–deep, thick, perfect–and I arched off the bed, gasping.
My nails raked his back.
He set a pace that was unforgiving–like punishment and worship tangled up in sweat and breath. His hips snapped forward with relentless rhythm, thick and deep, like he was trying to imprint himself inside me. Each thrust shoved a sound out of my mouth, sharp little gasps that spilled whether I wanted them to or not.
His mouth dropped to my chest, hot and open, sucking at the swell of my breast until his teeth grazed my nipple and I cried out–high, aching, involuntary.
My hands scrambled against his back, nails sinking into muscle, dragging down with every hard thrust. I couldn’t stop it- my body had taken over. My thighs locked around his waist, ankles hooked behind him, dragging him closer, deeper, like I couldn’t get enough.
“Say it,” he growled into my neck. His breath was ragged. Sweat beaded at his temple, slicked between us.
I clenched around him, whimpering. “Fuck you.”
He laughed, dark and low, right against my ear. “Close enough.”
Then he shifted, just slightly–angled his hips in that maddening, perfect way–and I broke.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t quiet.
My spine bowed off the mattress as the orgasm crashed over me like a wave that had been building all night–tight and tense and furious until it crested, and I was unraveling. My moan ripped out of me, loud and desperate, as my walls clamped around him in greedy pulses, again and again.
My toes curled. My vision blurred.
And still he didn’t stop.
“That’s it,” he hissed, voice thick with strain. “Let me feel it.”
My body bucked, thighs shaking helpless, everything inside me raw and overstimulated and trembling. I was crying out with every movement now, wrecked, begging without words for a pause I knew he wouldn’t give.
He chased me through it, his rhythm faltering just barely as he pressed in deep, deeper, shuddered, and fin me with a choked curse against my skin.
He didn’t move right away.
Just stayed there, buried to the hilt, breathing like he’d just survived a war.
I was breathless from the orgasm and from feeling his cock inside of me.
Fuck. He may be a bastard but he knows how to make a woman feel wanted.
2/3
illed inside
Chapter 90
