Chapter 19
NINETEEN
ANNA
My pulse throbs in my ears as I stare at Domhnall's sleeping form, the moonlight casting silver shadows across his bare chest. He's beautiful when he sleeps—all the hard angles of his face softened, his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, his breathing deep and steady.
I've been awake for hours, rehearsing this in my head.
I wanted him so bad earlier. All throughout the entire movie, I wanted to grab his head and shove it between my legs.
But I froze.
Because after all I've done to get rid of Mads, what if it suddenly brought her back?
I'm exhausted, but the throbbing between my legs won't let me sleep. And it's almost been a week now with no sight of Mads.
You can do this, Anna.
Dr. Ezra's voice echoes in my mind from our last session. "The more you avoid intimacy because you're afraid of switching, the more power you give to that fear. The mind is powerful—if you believe you'll switch during sexual intimacy, you might be creating a self-fulfilling prophecy."
I twist the edge of my nightgown between my fingers, my heart racing. I've been avoiding this for so long, letting Mads have this part of him because I was too afraid.
But I'm tired of being afraid.
I'm tired of being a bystander in my own life, my own body.
Tonight was perfect, and I'm taking back what's mine. After all, this is the final test of whether I've truly evicted her from my body, isn't it?
I take a deep breath.
I've seen Mads in action enough times to know how to mimic her. The way she talks. The way she moves. The confident swagger that I never quite mastered.
"Hey, handsome," I whisper, lowering my voice to match her husky tone as I trail my fingers across Domhnall's bare shoulder. "Wake up."
He stirs, his body tensing slightly before he relaxes, recognizing my touch even in sleep. His eyes flutter open, dark and disoriented.
"Anna?" he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
I smile, letting it curl slow and wicked the way Mads would. "Try again," I purr, straddling him in one fluid motion.
His eyes sharpen instantly, taking in my posture, my expression, and the way I'm looking at him. I can pinpoint the exact moment he decides I'm Mads—the subtle shift in his gaze, the almost imperceptible tensing of his muscles.
"Mads," he says, no question in his tone. His hands come to rest on my thighs, fingers digging into the flesh there with a possessiveness he never shows Anna.
My breath catches. This is already different than any other time he's touched me. There's none of the careful gentleness he usually handles me with.
This is raw. Hungry.
“Miss me?” I ask, rolling my hips against him, feeling him harden beneath me.
His mouth curves into a smirk I rarely see. “Always,” he growls, and in one swift motion, he flips us over, pinning me beneath him.
The move is so unexpected, so unlike his usual careful approach with me, that I gasp. He misinterprets my surprise as pleasure, and his smirk deepens as he lowers his mouth to my neck, biting at the sensitive skin there.
“Oh!” The sound escapes me before I can stop it, and then I arch my body into his.
This is... not what I expected. I knew Domhnall was different with Mads—more dominant, more aggressive—but I hadn’t anticipated the complete transformation.
The man above me right now isn’t the gentle, careful lover I’m used to.
This is the Domhn I’ve only heard about, the one who makes Mads scream and beg.
And God help me, I want him.
“What’s the matter, love?” he murmurs against my skin, his Irish accent thicker than usual. “Cat got your tongue? You’re usually more demanding by now.”
I feel a flicker of panic. I need to be better at this. More convincing. I can’t let him realize it’s me, or he’ll pull back. He’ll stop.
I slide my hands into his hair and yank, just hard enough to make his eyes flash. “Fuck me, Donny,” I demand, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. “I’ve been thinking about your cock all day.”
His eyes darken further, and he grinds against me, letting me feel the hard length of him through his boxers. “That right?” He catches my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. “You know the rules, kitten. You ask for it nicely.”
Kitten? My brain short-circuits. I’ve never heard him use pet names before. But no, that’s not true. I just haven’t heard him use them since we first reconnected when he bought me at the auction.
“Please,” I whisper, then remember who I’m supposed to be. I arch against him, deliberately provocative. “Please, Donny. Wreck me.”
Something savage flashes across his face, and he kisses me. Again, it’s nothing like our usual kisses. This is brutal, all teeth and tongue, devouring rather than savoring. I struggle to keep up, overwhelmed by the intensity and sheer need radiating from him.
I wait for the switch. For the light-headedness that means Mads is taking over.
But it doesn’t come.
There’s only wild need building in my belly and the overwhelming sensation of Domhn’s lips and his fingers grasping my hips, and oh—oh.
When he pulls back, his pupils are blown wide, his breathing ragged. “I should make you wait,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. “After that stunt you pulled the other night.”
I freeze, dazed from his kisses. Stunt? What stunt? What did Mads do now?
“But you’re so pretty when you beg,” he continues, apparently not noticing my momentary confusion. “And I’m feeling generous tonight.”
He releases my wrists only to reach over to the bedside drawer, pulling out—oh god, the enormous dildo I found earlier this week.
My eyes widen, and a small, strangled sound escapes me. Surely now, if Mads is anywhere left inside me, she’ll appear.
Domhnall’s eyes snap to mine, a frown creasing his brow. “Problem?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. Testing.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to smirk the way Mads would. “Just wondering if you’re still up to the challenge of filling me up after that thing’s had its way with me.”
His answering grin is predatory. “Cheeky little brat,” he murmurs, running the toy down my body, between my breasts, over my stomach, before reaching the hem of my nightgown. I shiver. In fear? In anticipation?
“I think you need to be reminded who’s in charge.”
In one swift motion, he tears my nightgown up and over my head, leaving me bare beneath him. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but all I feel is a rush of exhilaration.
This is happening.
I’m still here. I haven’t switched.
“Hands on the headboard,” he commands, and the authority in his voice makes me comply instantly.
As soon as my fingers wrap around the ornate wooden bars above my head, he’s moving, reaching under the bed and pulling out silken ropes I had no idea were there. Before I can process what’s happening, he’s binding my wrists to the headboard with practiced efficiency.
“Domhn,” I gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs. This is so far beyond anything I’ve experienced in so long, and even then, I didn’t really know who I waswho he was to me.
“Color?” he asks, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s asking for a safeword check.
“Green,” I respond immediately, the word falling from my lips before I can think too hard about it.
His eyes soften for just a moment, a flash of tenderness that’s gone so quickly I might have imagined it. Then he’s all business again, testing the restraints to ensure they’re secure without being too tight.
I’m spread out on the bed, bared like a prize for him to do as he wishes with. I tremble with wanting.
“Good girl,” he praises, and something inside me melts at the approval in his voice.
He reaches for the dildo again, and this time, I don’t flinch. Instead, I watch, transfixed, as he coats it generously with lube from the drawer, then flicks a switch at the bottom so that it begins to hum with vibration.
“Spread your legs for me,” he commands, and I obey, parting my thighs without hesitation.
The first touch of the toy against my entrance makes me jerk, a small sound escaping me. It’s cold, and so much larger than I’m used to.
Domhnall watches my face intently as he begins to press it inside me, slow but relentless. Just the vibrating tip at first, and then more and more.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with appreciation. “Taking it so well. Being such a good little slut for me.”
The words should shock me, maybe even offend me, but instead, they send a thrill racing through my body. This is how he talks to Mads. This is what she likes. And to my surprise, I find that I like it too—the rawness of it. The honesty.
The stretch as the dildo fills me is intense, bordering on painful, but there’s pleasure too. A deep, aching satisfaction as my body adjusts to accommodate it.
I’ve waited so long to be touched, even if it’s just with a dildo. Domhn’s the one holding the dildo, though, and that’s what matters.
Domhnall works it into me with careful precision, watching my reactions, adjusting the angle and depth, until I’m gasping, my hips lifting off the bed to meet each thrust.
“Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m asking for.
“Please, what?” he asks, his voice rough with desire.
“More,” I breathe, surprising myself with the demand. “More.”
His eyes flash with approval, and he increases the pace, fucking me with the toy until I’m writhing beneath him, pulling against the restraints, my body consumed by sensations I can barely remember experiencing before.
I’m close—so close—when he suddenly withdraws the toy entirely, leaving me empty and aching.
“Not yet,” he says, responding to my whimper of protest. “Look at me. Not until I say so. Who do you come for?”