Chapter 36 #2
We lean in at the same time, too fast and eager. Her lips miss mine by a fraction, hitting the left corner of my mouth like we’ve never done this before. I guess we haven’t. Not together.
We recover fast. The next second, we’re kissing hard enough that our teeth click, and I already know the taste of her will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I lift her, her legs locking around my waist, and turn to set her sideways on my bike. She bites my lip and moans into my mouth, the vibration shooting through me, straight to my cock.
It doesn’t take long before I’m tugging her jeans and panties down, kicking them free along with her boots, my movements frantic.
Before I know it, I’m kneeling between her legs, spreading her pussy with my thumbs, my mouth watering. She’s watching me now, face unreadable. But her body’s not shy about it, hips canted forward, hands flat behind her.
“Would you look at that,” I tease, brushing a featherlight kiss along her inner thigh. “Already so fucking wet. Let’s see if you can get wetter,” I say, and press my mouth to her pussy, right where she’s already slick and dripping.
She makes a sound — half-choked, disbelieving — and tries to close her legs, but I stop her.
I run my tongue up, slow, and her whole body convulses like an electric fence.
Her hands clutch at the seat. I flatten my tongue, lick her again, dip the tip inside.
She’s hot in my mouth, heat pooling right where I want it, drenching the bike under her.
She moans, tries to say my name, but it comes out as a curse. I laugh into her cunt, lips moving against her, and she shudders hard enough to rattle the bike. I suck her clit, gentle at first, then faster, rougher. She digs her nails into the leather, head thrown back, hair catching the starlight.
I can’t get enough, and she can’t stop shaking. When she comes, it’s all at once, with a deafening scream, body rigid, thighs crushing my head. I keep licking her, softer now, until her trembling turns to laughter.
“Holy fuck,” she mutters, voice shot to hell.
I don’t answer. I stand, wipe my mouth on the back of my hand, and kiss her hard, so she can taste herself on me. She grabs my hair and pulls me closer, biting my bottom lip for the second time tonight. I can taste blood. My cock is so hard it hurts.
“Turn around, adorable,” I say, voice thick. “That was just the beginning.”
She does, bending over the bike, ass up and ready, her pussy still wet and swollen from my mouth.
I unzip with one hand, then pull out a condom from my pocket. Tear the wrapper open with my teeth.
I don’t give her a moment to breathe, though. I push two fingers inside her, slow, testing, then drag her slick over her pussy. I pinch her clit between two knuckles and ground it, relentless, until she starts shaking and chokes on a moan. Already so fucking needy again.
I release her clit right when she’s at the edge and, before she can curse me out, I line up my cock. I press in slow at first, then hard, the bike creaking beneath her. She makes little noises, desperate and hungry, one hand clutching the handlebars like she’s afraid she might fly off.
“Harder,” she says, over her shoulder. “Come on, Dominic. I can take it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” I growl, and slap her ass so hard the sound echoes all around us.
I fist her hair at the nape, yank her back, and give her what she asked for.
I fuck her like I mean it, like I want to hammer her into the steel.
My other hand digs into her hip while I slam forward, no mercy, over and over again.
She’s louder now, moaning, not caring if anyone hears.
The viewpoint is empty, anyway. I don’t slow down.
I want to mark her inside and out, ruin her for anyone else.
I want to keep her forever, make her cum every day, every night.
The heat inside me builds and builds, a white-hot pressure threatening to detonate my spine. She clenches around me like a fist, walls tightening, gripping my cock so hard I almost see stars.
I reach around and rub her clit, two fingers, fast and mean. She comes again with a sob and a scream, and I follow, blowing my load so fast I get dizzy.
For a minute, the only sound is the wind and our ragged breathing. Then she suddenly chuckles.
“Oh, wow,” she says dreamily. “I’ve never done this before.”
The words hit like a bucket of ice water. I sober instantly.
“What?” I say, voice tight and a little horrified, looking down at our still-connected bodies, searching for any sign that this was her first time.
She chuckles again and straightens, her body sagging back against my chest. I lock my arms around her on instinct, my chin dropping into the crook of her neck.
“Relax, Dominic,” she teases. “I didn’t mean that. I meant I’ve never had a one-night stand.”
I laugh, hugging her tighter.
“What’s so funny?” she asks heatedly, trying to turn in my arms.
“You, adorable,” I murmur, keeping her in place, kissing her neck. “You’re funny, thinking that this is a one-night stand.”
I’m taking her to the clubhouse next. Tonight. And I’m definitely seeing her again tomorrow, and every day after that.
Week Two
Adora
“I’m never alone anymore,” I murmur, my gaze dropping to Dominic’s hand, frowning at where it rests on the sheets.
Sometimes, like today, it’s hard to look at his face for too long.
He’s still intubated. Still pale. Still fighting for his life.
The doctors sound more hopeful now, but not enough, and their caution rubs me the wrong way.
They never say the word coma out loud, but it hangs in the room every time they look at him.
“No one gives me a moment to breathe,” I continue softly.
“There’s always someone with me, watching and hovering, like they’re waiting for me to do something stupid.
” A quiet huff escapes me. “This is the only place I get any peace.” I pause.
“Well. Here, or the bathroom. And even then, someone knocks if I’m gone more than ten minutes. ”
The door opens, the sound grabbing my attention. Bones steps inside, his face tight with worry he doesn’t bother hiding.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “How’s he doing?”
I can’t meet his eyes. Instead, I look back at Dominic. Bones carries the same pain I do, and every time I see it reflected back at me, it hurts more.
“No change,” I whisper, my voice cracking at the end. “Where’s Temperance?”
“Getting coffee,” he sighs, dropping into the chair on the other side of the bed.
We sit in silence for a few moments, then Bones reaches into the inside pocket of his cut and pulls something out.
When I see the small piece of paper in his hand, everything inside me freezes.
I take it from him slowly, reverently, like it might crumble if I move too fast, like it’s sacred. ‘You’re fearless’ is written across it, the letters curving in that familiar way I know by heart now.
How?
“Found it in his office today,” Bones says gruffly. “It clearly belongs to you.”
Tears burn at the corners of my eyes. I don’t know how I still have any left.
“There are more,” Bones adds. “I’ll send one to you every day, the way he used to.” He lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes his head. “I don’t even remember how many times I had to break into your bookstore to leave those notes when he was out of town.”
My heart folds in on itself, stealing my breath.
Wake up, Dominic. Just wake up already. It’s been long enough.
Ghost
The Cell
The walls feel alive around me. The concrete shifts with each heartbeat, the air thick enough to chew on. I sit on the uncomfortable slab they call a bed, elbows on my knees, eyes closed. The hum of the light above me died hours ago, leaving the cell in deep silence.
It’s too fucking quiet in here. The pain eats away at my soul.
Am I still a man, or am I just a monster?
I can almost feel the darkness moving closer, like a slow, heavy tide crawling up my skin, whispering things I don’t want to hear. It’s in my lungs, my head, my fucking teeth. It reaches out like the tentacles of a kraken, ready to pull me under. To swallow me in one gulp.
But a sudden sound makes it tremble and retreat. It’s soft. Beautiful. Like the first note of a song that’s been haunting my mind for too long and now it’s finally ready to get out. It cuts through the black, threads through the cracks in my skull and settles behind my eyes.
Adora.
I see her, clear as day — that smile that always looks like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. She’s standing in front of me, eyes warm, head tilted the way she used to when she caught me staring like a fool.
My chest tightens. I don’t dare open my eyes. If I do, she’ll vanish. If I do, I’ll have to face the fact that she turned out to be my destruction — not my salvation.
So I just sit there, breathing her in. Holding on to the sound, the light, the faint trace of warmth that still remembers me. That still remembers Dominic.
The darkness doesn’t feel so heavy now. It’s not gone, but cracked open, just enough to let her in. Just enough to keep me breathing.
Week Three
Adora
“The doctors say there’s no reason for you not to wake up anymore,” I say through clenched teeth, staring at the blank wall across from his bed. “They’ve been saying that for days.” I scoff softly. “But of course you’d drag this out. You always need to be dramatic.”
I sneak a glance at Dominic. He’s not intubated anymore, and he looks better, but somehow that just pisses me off more.
“I got papers in the mail today,” I continue, exhaling slowly. “We’re officially divorced now, Mr. Zayas. The state says so.” My laugh comes out thin. “So you need to wake the fuck up and throw a tantrum about it.”
I take his hand, thumb brushing over his fingers, tracing familiar patterns I’ve memorized over these endless weeks.