Chapter 14 - Dominic
I stare at her, unblinking, my gaze pressing down on her. “Stubborn,” I murmur, almost to myself. “Reckless.”
“Determined,” Isabella corrects, taking a step closer.
The pull between us feels charged, overwhelming, and I have to steady myself, feeling the warmth radiating from her body.
I reach out, my hand brushing against her arm, and a shiver runs through her. It isn’t fear—it’s something darker, something that makes her skin prickle in ways I know she doesn’t want to ignore.
“You think you’re untouchable,” I say softly, my fingers trailing down her arm in a way that makes her breath hitch. “But you have no idea what you’re walking into.”
“Maybe,” she replies, her voice barely a whisper, “but I’m not afraid of you, Dominic.”
A tinge of surprise crosses my face, quickly replaced by intrigue. There’s a smoldering intensity in my gaze now, and my hand settles on her waist, fingers pressing just hard enough to make her pulse spike.
“You don’t need me to save you,” I murmur, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you walk into a death trap.”
Before she can reply, I pull her closer, and suddenly, the energy around us shifts, turning sharp, electric. My gaze drops to her lips, and I feel my heart stutter, my pulse quickening in response.
Before I can second-guess my decision, I step closer to Isabella, drawn by instinct. My fingers tilt her chin up, guiding her gaze to mine—then, without hesitation, I kiss her. She stiffens for a brief moment before melting into me, her lips parting as she returns the kiss.
My hand tangles in her hair, my body pressing hers back against one of the towering bookshelves, and books rattle, some toppling onto the desk beside us, but I don’t care. I’m lost in the intensity of it, the way my mouth claims hers with a hunger that leaves us both breathless.
The kiss deepens, growing hotter, more urgent, and I can feel her surrendering to it, surrendering to me. My hands slide down her sides, my touch possessive, my grip hard enough to leave marks, and I feel a thrill rush through me at the intensity of it, at the way I don’t hold back.
I pull back just enough to look at her, my breathing ragged, my gaze burning with an intensity that makes her lips part slightly, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath.
“Isabella,” I whisper her name, my voice rough and low.
I step closer, the space between us shrinking. Her eyes darken and I can sense the intrigue in the way her breath hitches. My eyes drink her in as if I’m weighing every part of her.
She trembles slightly, a mixture of anticipation and want, knowing that I could break her if I wanted to—and yet, she doesn’t look away.
I reach out, my hand sliding along her neck, my fingers grazing the sensitive skin there, and she trembles slightly. The light touch is enough to make her pulse race, her breath catching in her throat as I step even closer, my body towering over hers, the hard lines of my muscles flexing under my shirt.
I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You want this, Isabella?” I murmur, my voice low and rough, the question more like a command than a request.
She barely finds her voice, but she nods, her throat too tight to form words.
The corners of my mouth lift in a dark smile, and I grip her chin just a bit tighter, holding her in place as my eyes roam over her face, studying her like she’s a meal I’m about to devour.
“I want to hear you say it,” I say, my voice a low growl. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
A thrill runs through her at my words, but she hesitates, her heart hammering in her chest as my fingers trail up, wrapping around her throat, my grip firm, unyielding.
I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear, my breath hot against her skin.
“Say it,” I murmur, tightening my hold just enough to make her gasp.
“Yes,” she finally breathes, the words spilling out before she can stop them. “Yes, Dominic, I want you to fuck me. Hard.”
A wicked grin crosses my face, my eyes flashing with satisfaction.
“Good girl,” I murmur, my thumb brushing over her pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath my fingers. “Now, don’t hold back. I want to hear every sound you make.”
Before she can protest, I pull her against me, my fingers fisting her hair as I grip the back of her head. My mouth crashes into against hers, demanding and unapologetic—there’s nothing gentle about it. My other hand roam over her body, rough and possessive, exploring every inch of her as I brand her as mine.
I feel my fingers slip under her shirt, tugging it up over her head, and she raises her arms, letting me strip her bare.
My gaze travels over her skin, dark with desire, and she bites her lip.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, my voice rough, my eyes drinking her in. “Every inch of you.”
I trail my hand down her thigh, my fingers brushing along her skin in a way that makes her body ache for more. Slowly, carefully, I slide my hand between her legs, my fingers tracing over the fabric of her panties, pressing just enough to make her moan, her hips arching into my touch.
“You’re already so wet for me,” I murmur, my voice a dark promise. “Tell me, Isabella—do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?”
She shakes her head, breathless, unable to speak as my fingers continue to tease her, sliding over her clit with a pressure that’s just enough to drive her wild but not enough to satisfy the need building inside her.
“Oh, I think you’ll learn soon enough,” I say, a dangerous edge to my voice as I slip my fingers under the waistband of her panties, tugging them down.
I sink to my knees in front of her, my hands gripping her hips as I slide her panties off, and I feel her breath hitch as I look up at her, my gaze dark and unrelenting.
“You’re going to let me do whatever I want, aren’t you?” I ask, my voice a low growl, my hands sliding up her thighs, spreading them wider.
She nods, barely able to breathe. I can sense her heart racing as I lean in, my mouth brushing against her thigh.
Isabella trembles beneath my hands, her body warm, pliant, but so goddamn stubborn. Her breath is uneven as she stares up at me, caught somewhere between defiance and surrender.
“Say it,” I murmur, my voice rough against the shell of her ear.
A pause. Her body tenses, her nails digging into my shoulders as she fights the words, fights me. But I won’t let her win. Not here. Not now.
I tighten my grip, fingers wrapping around her thighs just enough to feel the heat rising beneath her skin. Her breath stutters. Her lips part.
“Yes,” she finally whispers, the word barely escaping her lips, sending a sharp jolt through me. My heart pounds as I lean in, my mouth grazing hers, a slow tease that leaves us both breathless.
And then, finally, my mouth finds her, my tongue sliding over her clit with a slow, deliberate pressure that makes her gasp, her hands tangling in my hair as I begin to work her with a skill that leaves her breathless. I move slowly, my lips and tongue teasing her, building the anticipation until she’s a trembling mess, her body aching for my touch, for the feel of me.
“Good,” I murmur, my mouth moving closer, my breath hot against her skin.
“Oh, God,” she moans, her hips lifting to meet me, her body responding to every flick of my tongue, every caress.
I know exactly what I’m doing—driving her higher, winding her tighter, until she’s teetering on the edge, desperate for release.
“You like that, don’t you?” I murmur against her, my voice a dark, wicked whisper as I slide a finger inside her, my gaze flicking up to meet hers.
“I want to feel you come on my tongue, Isabella. Show me how much you want it.”
My words are only answered by a low moan, and I sense the pleasure building, reaching a fever pitch as I work her, my fingers moving in and out of her with a rhythm that drives her closer and closer to the edge. Her moans fill my ears as she tightens her grip on my hair.
“Oh God, Dominic,” she moans, “Fuck.”
The filthy word from her mouth sounds like music to my ears as her moans get deeper and deeper. And then, finally, she shatters, her body convulsing, pleasure crashing over her as she cries out, her hands clutching at me as she comes, the release intense, overwhelming.
I rise, gripping her waist as I lift her, and I can feel the strength in my arms, the hard planes of my chest pressing against her as I lay her back against the leather sofa, the books we knocked over scattered around us.
She’s still bare, her skin flushed, glowing in the dim light of the library. Her breath is ragged, her lips parted, and fuck, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
I’m still fully clothed, and the contrast between the rough fabric of my suit and the soft warmth of her bare skin sends a thrill through me, making me ache for her, for the feel of her wrapped around me. And I’m so hard, I can barely keep it together.
I shed the last of my clothes, and her breath catches as she takes me in, her gaze wavering between hesitation and hunger.
A flash of worry crosses her face, but I catch it, my hand moving to cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek as I lean down and press my finger on her lip, sliding it in. She surprises me by sucking it, her eyes rolling to the back of her head like she wants to do that to my cock and the sight makes me harder than I thought was possible.
“Trust me,” I murmur into her ear, my voice a low promise as I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her, stretching her.
I hold her gaze as I push in slowly, and I feel every inch of her as she takes me, the sensation intense, almost too much.
A flash of pain makes her tense, her hands clutching at my shoulders, but I pause, my eyes dark and focused, watching her, grounding her.
She nods, her expression replaced by a deep, pulsing pleasure as I inch deeper, her tight heat surrounding me, drawing a low groan from my lips.
I thrust slowly, each movement deliberate, my gaze locked onto hers as I watch every reaction, a dark satisfaction settling in my chest.
“You feel that?” I murmur, my voice a low growl as I thrust deeper, my cock sliding in and out, each movement slow and deep, reaching places that make her gasp, that make her body tremble with need.
“Yes,” she breathes, her voice barely a whisper, her hands clutching at me, needing more, needing me to take her harder, deeper.
I pick up the pace, my movements growing more intense, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her, building her up, pushing her closer to the edge once again.
I can feel every inch of her, the way she wraps around me, her body gripping me like she was made for this, for me.
“You’re so tight,” I groan, my hands gripping her hips as I thrust harder, my gaze dark with desire. “I want you to feel every inch of me, Isabella. I want you to know exactly who you belong to.”
The words send a shiver through her, and I feel the pleasure cresting, building to a point of no return.
Her body clenches around me, and then, finally, she comes again, her body shuddering, pulsing, the release overwhelming as she cries out my name, her hands clutching at me, pulling me closer.
I let out a low groan, my grip on her tightening as I thrust one last time, deep and hard, and then I shudder, my cock throbbing inside her as I release, spilling hot and deep, filling her completely.
The sensation leaves her trembling. A deep satisfaction settles over me as I feel her body pulse around me, drawing every last drop from me, marking her as mine in a way that feels raw, unbreakable, like a promise neither of us can take back.
I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the feeling, the sense of her surrounding me, inside me, filling every part of me.
I hold still, buried deep, my chest pressed against hers, my breath hot and ragged against her neck. For a moment, neither of us moves, lost in the aftershocks of what just happened.
Slowly, I pull away, the absence of her warmth already unsettling. My muscles resist the motion, but I force myself to shift, rolling onto my side until I’m lying beside her.
I feel my body tense suddenly, as if I’m remembering the unspoken danger that lingers just beyond the walls of this room, the threats that can’t be silenced by the quiet between us.
I turn my head, looking at her, catching the shadow of something deeper in her gaze.
It’s as though she, too, realizes that we’re clinging to a stolen moment, one that feels fragile, teetering on the edge of everything we can’t outrun.