Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The shop was dark when we arrived, only the streetlights outside casting long shadows through the windows. Dominic closed the door behind us, then flipped the lock. The sound echoed loudly in the silence—final, decisive.
He moved to the workshop lamps, flicking them on one by one. Warm light flooded the space, chasing away the shadows but doing nothing to ease the tension crackling between us.
“I know you’re angry,” I said finally, my voice smaller than I intended.
“Angry doesn’t begin to cover it.” Dominic’s hands flexed at his sides, fighting for control. “Christ, Leo. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Through our bond, I felt it then—not just anger, but genuine terror. The kind of bone-deep fear that had consumed him when he couldn’t reach me at the Fairfax estate, magnified a hundredfold.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and meant it. The guilt hit me fully now, seeing what my recklessness had done to him. “I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t think.” But his voice had lost some of its edge. “You saw an opportunity and took it without considering the danger.”
His hand came up to settle on my stomach, and the protective gesture made my throat tight.
“I won’t do it again,” I said quietly. “I promise. If I want to follow a lead, I’ll tell you first. We’ll do it together.”
Something in Dominic’s expression shifted—the fury easing, though the exasperation remained. “You’re a piece of work,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m holding you to that. No sticking that curious nose into places it doesn’t belong. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
We stood like that for a long moment. The shop was quiet around us—my workspace, the smell of leather and polish, safe and familiar.
But the air between us was still charged, heavy with unresolved tension. Dominic’s anger had eased but not disappeared, and my omega instincts were screaming at me to fix this, to bridge the gap, to soothe my alpha’s distress.
I stepped closer, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. My fingers found the buttons of his shirt, toying with the top one absently. Through the fabric, I could feel the rapid beat of his heart.
“Leo,” Dominic warned, but his voice had roughened.
“I need to,” I whispered, slipping the first button free. Then the second. “Let me.”
“You already apologized—” But his breath caught as my hands slid inside his open shirt, palms flat against his heated skin.
“That’s not enough.” I worked another button free, then another, my fingers trembling slightly. “I need to show you. Need you to feel how sorry I am, how much I—” I stopped myself before the words could escape.
Dominic’s hands came up to cover mine, stilling my movements. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I interrupted, tilting my head to expose my throat—the ultimate omega gesture of trust and submission. “Please, alpha.”
His control shattered. I felt it through our bond—the moment the fear and fury transformed into something else entirely, something more primal and desperate.
His mouth crashed into mine. The kiss was consuming, claiming, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with possessive intensity. I opened for him immediately, making a soft sound of need that seemed to break whatever restraint he’d been clinging to.
Dominic broke away just long enough to stride across the shop.
I watched as he grabbed the heavy velvet curtains—deep burgundy fabric that had hung in these windows since before my grandfather’s time—and yanked them closed with a sharp scrape of rings against the iron rod.
The shop dimmed, the streetlights blocked out, leaving only the warm glow of the lamps.
When he turned back, his eyes were dark with intent.
“Come here,” he commanded, and my omega hindbrain responded immediately, pulling me toward him.
We met in the middle of the shop, his hands immediately finding my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel his arousal pressing against my hip, hard and insistent.
Dominic stalked forward, forcing my retreat across the floorboards. Our mouths met again and again, neither of us willing to break contact for long. When my back hit the solid wooden edge of my worktable, I remembered suddenly—
“Wait,” I gasped, pulling back slightly and turning. My hands moved with practiced efficiency despite my trembling, rolling up the leather tool wrap that held my awls, knives, and edge bevelers.
“Good omega,” Dominic rumbled, helping me set the wrapped tools carefully on the nearby shelf. His fingers brushed mine, sending sparks of electricity through me. “Making space for me.”
“Always,” I whispered, biting my lip as need clawed through me.
Then his hands were on me again, pulling at my clothes with urgency. My coat hit the floor, followed by my sweater. His shirt—already half-unbuttoned from my earlier attempts—joined them moments later, and the sight of his bare chest made my mouth go dry.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” I breathed, my fingers exploring every ridge and valley of his sculpted torso.
“You’re one to talk.” Dominic’s hands slid down my sides, thumbs hooking in my waistband. “These need to go. Now.”
I helped him shove my jeans and underwear down, kicking them aside. The cool air hit my heated skin, making me shiver, but Dominic’s body was there immediately—warm, solid, perfect.
He lifted me onto the worktable, stepping between my spread thighs. The height was perfect, putting us almost eye-to-eye. His hands mapped my body possessively—over my ribs, across my chest, down to my stomach where they paused, splaying protectively over the small swell.
“Mine,” he said, voice rough. “Both of you. Mine to protect, mine to care for, mine to keep safe.”
“Yours,” I agreed breathlessly. “But Dom, I need—”
“I know what you need.” His mouth found my throat, teeth scraping over my pulse point. His hand wrapped around my cock, stroking slowly.
“You drive me so crazy, baby.” His free hand slid lower, fingers teasing my entrance before one pressed inside, making me gasp. “I can barely think straight.”
He added a second quickly, stretching me with practiced efficiency, finding that perfect spot inside me that made me see stars.
“I’m sorry,” I moaned as his fingers worked me open. “I’m so sorry, Dom—”
“You’re lucky you’re carrying our baby,” he growled against my throat, his fingers curling inside me perfectly. “Or I’d have you over my knee for that stunt.”
The words sent a shock of heat through me—sudden, intense, completely unexpected.
The image flashed through my mind: bent over his lap, his hand on my bare skin, that careful control applied to discipline.
My body responded before I could control it, a surge of arousal so strong he must have felt it through our bond.
If not, then he definitely felt my body’s involuntary tightening around his fingers.
He stilled instantly. “Leo?” His voice dropped to that dangerous purr. “Did you just—”
I couldn’t answer, couldn’t form words. My face burned with embarrassment and arousal in equal measure. I buried my face in my hands.
“Interesting,” he murmured, pulling his fingers free and positioning himself at my entrance. The thick head of his cock pressed against me as he leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. “We’ll explore that later.”
The promise in those words made me shiver as he pushed inside slowly, carefully despite the urgency thrumming through both of us. I grabbed his shoulders, needing something to hold onto. The stretch was intense, overwhelming, exactly what I needed.
By the time he was fully seated, we were both breathing hard.
“Okay?” Dominic asked, his forehead pressed against mine.
“More than okay.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. “Move. Please.”
He did, setting a rhythm that was both tender and fierce. Each thrust drove me back against the worktable, the solid wood beneath me, Dominic’s hands on my hips keeping me exactly where he wanted me.
“Never again,” he said between thrusts. “Never put yourself in danger like that again.”
“I won’t,” I gasped as he bottomed out. “I promise—oh god, right there—”
His hand slid between us, wrapping around my cock and stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation was almost too much, pleasure building at the base of my spine with devastating intensity.
“That’s it,” Dominic encouraged, his voice rough. “Let go, baby. Come for me.”
The combination of his voice, his cock hitting that perfect spot, his hand on me—it pushed me over the edge. I came with a cry, clenching around him as pleasure crashed through me in waves.
Dominic’s rhythm grew erratic, his control finally fracturing. But before he came, he pulled out suddenly, spinning me around with firm hands on my hips.
“Bend over,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Hands on the table.”
I obeyed immediately, my palms hitting the smooth wood as I bent forward at the waist. The position left me completely exposed and vulnerable to my alpha. My omega hindbrain sang with the rightness of it.
Dominic’s palm curved over my bare cheek, warm and possessive. I melted into the table’s unyielding surface, muscles going liquid as my alpha’s fingertips traced possessive circles across my skin. Then—
Smack.
Not hard. Just enough to sting, to surprise, to make me jolt forward with a gasp that came out far too much like a moan.
“Like that, baby?” Dominic’s voice was rough, dangerous. His hand soothed over the spot he’d just struck, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through me.
“Yes,” I gasped, my body betraying exactly how much I’d liked that sharp sting. My face burned against the cool wood, my cock half-hard and leaking.
Through our bond, I sensed Dominic’s reaction. He’d felt everything—the spike of arousal, the embarrassed want, the desperate need for more.