Until You Break (The Devout and the Damned #1)

22. His Sinner

Chapter twenty-two

His Sinner

I’m left standing in the bathroom alone, barely able to breathe and my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

Every inch of me is on edge, tingling with the memory of his hands, his breath on my neck, his voice in my ear cutting right through the defenses I thought I’d built.

He had me close to the most earth-shattering orgasm of my life but left me right on the cusp and craving more of him. My neck still stings from his stubble and I can feel my pussy throbbing at the sensation.

I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection, trying to steady myself, but all I can see is the flushed look on my face.

God. What the hell am I doing?

I let out a shaky breath, pushing back the tangled mess of emotions that Dominic just dragged to the surface. Mason’s in the other room, completely oblivious, probably on another call or getting ready for bed.

Blissfully unaware that just a few feet away, Dominic had his fingers inside of my pussy and whispered things that made my stomach twist in ways that scare the hell out of me. I know I should be angry—furious, even.

He had no right, no right at all, to show up here, to push his way back into my life and to mess with me like this. But deep down, I can’t ignore the truth that’s been clawing its way to the surface since the second he walked back in: I wanted him here.

And he knows it. That smirk, that taunting look in his eyes, every touch, every word—it’s like he’s daring me to admit it, daring me to acknowledge what we both know.

That he’s under my skin, in my head, and no matter how hard I try to bury him, he’s still there haunting every corner of my mind.

The memory of Dominic’s voice, the feel of his hands on me—it makes everything I have with Mason feel empty, like I’m just going through the motions, pretending to be happy, pretending that this life is enough.

But I don’t know if I can keep pretending anymore.

After cleaning up the shattered glass, I leave the bathroom, half-expecting him to be lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce, but there’s nothing. Just silence and the distant sound of Mason’s voice, probably wrapping up another call.

I slip back into the bedroom, closing the door quietly, my pulse still racing, the sound of my heartbeat deafening as I slip on a t-shirt to hide any mark he left and sink down onto the edge of the bed.

This is going to ruin me. He’s going to ruin me. And I can’t stop it, can’t stop him, because a twisted part of me doesn’t even want to.

Dominic’s right, damn him. I’m just pretending, playing house with a man who’ll never be able to reach the places Dominic already owns inside me. And I hate it, but I crave it all the same.

The door creaks, and Mason steps in, his eyes softening when he sees me sitting there, his phone slipping into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice warm, genuine, like he has no idea I’m standing on the edge of a cliff with no way back.

“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “Just tired. Ready to get some sleep.”

He smiles, crossing the room to sit beside me, his hand reaching out to rub my back, gentle and reassuring. But his touch feels wrong, too soft, too careful, and I have to resist the urge to pull away.

How has Dominic crawled under my skin like this?

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, a hint of concern creeping into his tone. “You’ve been… a little distant this trip.”

I swallow hard, nodding, fighting to keep the lie steady on my face. “I’m fine. Just work stress, I think. I’ll be better once we’re back home.”

Home. The word feels hollow, meaningless. Home isn’t the tidy cabin and nights with Mason, isn’t the quiet life I’ve tried to build.

It’s something darker, something wild and dangerous, something that Dominic embodies with every breath he takes, and I hate myself for wanting it, for needing it in a way I can’t explain.

Mason leans over, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes, willing myself to feel something, anything. But there’s nothing, just emptiness, and the ghost of Dominic’s touch lingering under my skin, taunting me.

“Let’s get some sleep,” I say, pulling back, forcing a small smile. “Long day tomorrow.”

He nods, pulling off his shirt and tossing it onto the chair, slipping under the covers with that familiar ease, like everything is fine, like nothing’s changed.

And I lie there beside him, staring up at the ceiling, feeling like a stranger in my own life, haunted by a man who’s decided he won’t let me go. A man who has proven just how much he’s ruined me for every other man.