Chapter 23 DOMINIC
DOMINIC
I’d been waiting for this. A million-dollar reward. Desperate, predictable, satisfying move because while the King family tore apart the world in search of their golden princess, Athena King was lying upstairs, asleep in my house.
Three days.
Three long, torturous days since the night of my birthday. Since everything shifted and she’s all I can think about. Her scent. Her taste. Her fucking mouth—inked into my memory, etched into my nerves like a brand.
That kiss should’ve never happened. I’d meant to walk away. Hell, I did walk away eventually, pacing my room like a madman, sick with the weight of what I’d done. She’s the daughter of the man I swore to destroy, and I kissed her like she was oxygen—like I needed her to fucking breathe.
How ironic is it that my second kiss in this godforsaken life was with her?
Even worse? I enjoyed it. I craved it.
Not sex, conquest, or power. Just… her lips.
Although, if I’m being honest, the memory of her coming on my tongue has me clenching my fists under the table.
That first taste of her—sweet, unfiltered, addictive—ruined something in me.
Something I can’t fix. I swore I’d never kneel between a woman’s thighs.
It’s too intimate, too exposed. A man like me doesn’t give. I take.
But with her? I wanted to.
Her moans, her hands pulling at my hair like she never wanted me to stop. I forgot who I was. Forgot the war, the hatred, the blood I swore to spill.
And now? I’m losing my fucking mind. For three days, she’s avoided me, hiding in her room.
I asked Linda, the only one who sees her regularly.
She said Athena waits for me to leave before stepping out of her room.
Avoidance has never been so loud, but it ends tonight.
She’s done hiding. I pushed the newspaper aside and met Alec’s gaze.
“I’ve located Athena’s uncle,” he said, casually spearing a piece of toast.
I leaned back in my chair. Angelo King, Maddox’s younger brother, was harmless, but if there’s one thing that rattles Maddox, is having his bloodline threatened.
“Good,” I said, voice low. “Bring him to me.”
Alec nodded, and just like that, the conversation died. This is what we’ve trained for since we were boys. This is what I’ve been waiting for—revenge, justice. The death of Maddox King and the crumbling of his empire.
And yet for the first time, the taste of victory doesn’t feel like enough.
—
ATHENA
It was exactly 1:00 a.m. when my bedroom door creaked open, and Dominic Stone walked in. Even before I saw him, I felt him. The man I’d been avoiding for the past three days, and now, just one look at him brought everything back like a blade to the chest.
He had touched me like I belonged to him.
Kissed me like he was starving. Five orgasms later, I could still feel his mouth between my thighs.
I’d been shaking for hours, body undone—only to be struck by the cold slap of guilt and regret once the sun rose.
I let the man who took my freedom, who swore vengeance against my family, make me feel worshiped. I let him ruin me.
Now here he was again. He didn’t speak as he shed his suit jacket or loosened his tie.
He looked tired, almost weary, but not enough to keep him out of my room in the middle of the night.
I sat on the bed, arms around my knees, back pressed against the headboard.
My nightgown had ridden up just enough to expose my thighs, and of course, his gaze went straight there.
He didn’t hide it, didn’t blink as if he wanted me to see.
His tongue ran over the same lips that had been on my body days ago.
“I believe we need to talk,” he said finally, voice like gravel and thunder.
“What is there to talk about?”
His jaw flexed, and I knew that look—he wasn’t buying it.
“Are you trying to ignore me, Athena?” I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand, cutting me off. “No. Let me rephrase that—why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m not.”
“I despise liars,” he cut in, stepping closer. “And you just lied again.”
By the time he reached the foot of the bed, I bolted upright, heart racing, trying to put distance between us. He watched me like a predator circling prey. I moved toward the window, leaning against the desk, pretending to be unaffected.
“I’m not avoiding you, Dominic.” The sound of his name on my lips felt foreign. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to sleep.”
He crossed the room in a blink and caged me in—hands planted on either side of the desk, his body trapping mine. My breath hitched. I tried to lean back, but there was nowhere to go. His fingers gripped my chin, turning my face to his.
“I gave you too much freedom, dollface,” he whispered darkly. “A voice you were never supposed to have. You’re a prisoner here—have you forgotten that?”
I turned my head to avoid his gaze, but he didn’t relent.
“Who gave you permission to speak to me like that? To act like you’re a guest here?” His grip on the desk tightened, knuckles white. “Who the fuck gave you permission to crawl under my skin and wreck every ounce of control I thought I had?”
My chest rose and fell, heart racing so hard it hurt. My body was reacting to him—just like before.
“You came into my private room on my birthday dressed like a fucking temptation,” he growled, “then choked on my cock like it was the only thing you’d ever known.
You let me eat your sweet little cunt until you came on my tongue, you kissed me like your life depended on it. And now you pretend I don’t exist?”
There it was. Raw, ugly. True. He was angry, but underneath that rage was something else. Something I shouldn’t have seen. Hurt. He was breathing hard now, like the words had cost him something. Like they’d been festering inside, waiting to explode.
“Why do you even care?” I asked softly. “You could have anyone. Women would kill to be what you want. Pick one.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. Only bitterness.
“You’re right,” he said, voice low and tight. “The smart thing would be to leave this room, find a whore who’d happily do what I need.”
His words sliced through me like razors, but I refused to flinch.
“But the truth?” He leaned in, our mouths inches apart. “No one else will do. You fucking unlocked something in me, dollface.”
“It wasn’t on purpose.”
The words tumbled from my lips. My heart sank, and the butterflies in my stomach fluttered violently—for a man who should never make me feel this way.
“Which part wasn’t on purpose, Athena?” he demanded, mouth grazing mine. “Be specific.”His hand slid slowly up my thigh, igniting every nerve in its path.
“All of it,” I whispered, but even I didn’t believe it.
“Fucking liar.”
And I didn’t argue, he was right. My silence screamed the truth louder than any denial could. I couldn’t lie with his hands on me, not when his touch felt like home—hot, possessive, familiar. Melting every wall I had. He exhaled against my lips.
“Kiss me, Athena. Prove what a liar you are,” he murmured, voice dark and guttural. “Or push me away. Tell me to leave, and I swear I won’t come back.”
The thought of him leaving made my chest cave in, so I reached up, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him- hard and desperate.
My arms wrapped around him, clinging to his body like I needed it more than breath.
He groaned into my mouth as he grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the desk like I weighed nothing.
There was nothing gentle about this kiss—our tongues fought for dominance, teeth clashing, lips bruising.
He kissed me like he both hated and needed me.
His hands yanked my nightgown up as he positioned himself between my legs like that’s where he belonged.
My legs wrapped around him automatically, needing him closer, needing more.
For someone who swore he didn’t like kissing, Dominic Stone kissed me like it was his religion.
“Do you hate me, Athena?” he growled against my lips, nipping at my bottom one. “Fuck, tell me you hate me as much as I hate you.”
Even more,” I whispered, pulling him closer.
“Good.”
He shoved the nightgown higher, grabbed my panties, and tore them off. The sound of fabric ripping was followed by a growl as he dropped to his knees, and Dominic buried his face between my thighs like a man starving.
I fell back on my elbows, gasping as his tongue traced a slow, devastating path from my entrance to my clit.
His fingers dug into my thighs, leaving marks on my skin as he devoured me.
He lifted my legs over his shoulders and grabbed my hand, placing it on his head.
His tongue circled my clit, and I cried out, hips bucking as my head rolled back.
“You taste like my new favorite fucking meal,” he groaned against me. “God, I can’t get enough of you.”
He licked me again—slow, possessive, wicked, and the orgasm slammed into me so fast, I shattered with a scream. My body trembled violently as I rode his tongue, clenching around nothing, unraveling with each flick and suck.
He didn’t stop—dragging another orgasm from me, relentless, ruthless. By the time he stood, I was wrecked, limp, ruined on the desk. His mouth glistened with me.
“Kiss me,” he demanded, his voice ragged. “Taste how fucking sweet you are.”
I kissed him again, this time softer, slower, my lips molding to his with a hunger I could barely contain.
My tongue traced the curve of his mouth, tasting myself on him, licking every drop from his lips as a low moan slipped past my throat.
The mix of his taste with mine sent a shiver spiraling straight through my core.
My hand moved on its own, trembling with need as it slid to the button of his pants, fumbling fast, desperate to free him.