EPILOGUE
Dominic closed the villa’s front door behind him with a sharp, deliberate click that sliced through the cold, still night air—the same villa. The exact same one he’d slipped inside uninvited. I turned to him.
I stared at him as he shrugged out of his jacket, muscles shifting beneath his black T-shirt. My gaze dropped to the massive purple diamond on my finger. It felt unreal, like a fever dream, and I didn’t want to wake up.
I moved toward the kitchen. Behind me, the fridge door opened and closed, and the sharp pop of a champagne cork shattered the quiet.
Dominic moved with effortless grace. Every flex of his biceps pulled heat through my veins, igniting a familiar hunger deep in my core.
He poured two glasses with slow precision, fingers curling around the delicate stems like they owned the world.
Then, with that wicked, slow smile that haunted my every thought, he looked up.
“Follow me.”
And I did. Always.
Outside, the night air kissed my skin, sharp and cool. He set the glasses on the table by the pool and sank into a chair, legs spread, gaze locked on me like a predator.
“Come here, Athena.”
My breath hitched. Despite the chill, heat blazed through me, wild and consuming. I moved slowly.
“What are we doing?”
“We’re playing a game,” he smirked my way. My heart slammed against my ribs. There was a darkness beneath his gaze, a challenge that both terrified and thrilled me.
“Don’t you want to play, dollface?” The nickname dripped with mock sweetness, but there was steel underneath. “It’s your birthday.”
“What’s the catch?” I bit my lip, eyes narrowing.
“No catch, like always.” He clicked his tongue, grinning like a predator.
“Should I believe you?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Probably not,” he admitted, that brutal honesty that both infuriated and enthralled me. I hesitated, then nodded. The thrill of the game was too strong.
“Alright, big boy. Let’s play.” I said, and his grin spread wider, hungry and unapologetic. He pointed at the glass in front of me.
“Whoever drinks their glass fastest wins.”
“That’s what I thought.” I laughed.
The game began. I lifted my glass and took a fast sip, eyes never leaving his. Victory was mine—I thought, but then I looked up and his glass was empty. His lips glistened with champagne residue, that devilish smile curling upward like he’d just won the lottery.
“Looks like you lost,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. ‘‘Again.’’
“I hate you.” I scowled
“I find that hard to believe.”
“What do you want now?” I pursed my lips, bristling.
“What I wanted to do that night,” he said, voice husky, and my heart dropped as he poured another glass and then, hands on his hips, nodded at me. “Come here, Athena.”
I obeyed, not because he held me captive with that magnetic gaze, but because I wanted to, wanted everything he had to give. Every step toward him was a surrender. He nodded again, eyes devouring me.
“Sit,” he commanded, voice velvet sharp, eyes fixed on the glass table.
Adrenaline surged. I hesitated, then climbed onto the glass surface, skirt riding up to expose smooth skin against cold glass. His gaze traced every inch like he was marking his territory with fire.
“Remember last time we were here?” His voice was a growl.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Do you want to know what I wanted instead of that stupid necklace?”
He towered over me, dark and relentless. Hands gripping the table’s edge, chest rising with deep, steady breaths. His presence was raw power incarnate.
“I wanted to fuck you on this table until you couldn’t walk.”
“You hated me then,” I whispered.
That only made me want you more.” His smirk was lethal. My gaze dropped to his lips, craving that connection. His eyes caught mine, wild storms swirling in their depths.
“Why didn’t you?”
His smile turned teasing, deliberate. He closed the space between us and kissed me—light, savoring, torturous. When I deepened the kiss, he pulled away.
“Open your mouth.”
Confused, I obeyed. He sipped champagne and, without breaking eye contact, spit the liquid into my mouth. The taste was sharp, filthy, electric.
“Swallow, like the good girl you are.”
I did, heart pounding as his gaze burned through me. His grip tightened on my jaw, pulling me close until our breaths mingled.
“It was torture looking at you,” he said, lips brushing mine. “Knowing I shouldn’t touch you, but wanting to ruin you so badly that no one else could have you after me.”
“What else?” I swallowed hard. His grin widened, cocky and dangerous.
“I wanted to strip you bare. Naked, waiting for me.”
Without hesitation, I peeled off my clothes, piece by piece, eyes locked on his every reaction.
His intensity made my skin flare. Naked and exposed, I leaned back against the glass, raising an eyebrow.
His breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from deep within.
He took me in, skin flushed, nipples hardening under his hungry stare.
“I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive.”
Dominic loomed, unstoppable and fierce. Heat spiraled through me like wildfire. Every pulse thrummed with need. I pushed him back, and his body collapsed into the chair without resistance. Disheveled hair, rolled sleeves, breath ragged. He looked mine.
“I see you use your mouth a lot, but not how I want,” I teased, legs spreading slightly. A slow smile curved his lips.
“Forgive me, dollface,” he said, licking those lips. “How can I make it up to you?”
“Shut up and put it on me,” I said, firm and fierce, surprised by the boldness in my own voice. Old me would have been silent, but this new Athena—wild, confident, reckless- was all his doing. He clicked his tongue, eyes locked on my bare heat with wicked delight.
“I like when you’re vocal.”
“And I like it when you shut up and obey.”
I cupped his jaw, pulled him close, kissed him softly.
His response was immediate—raw hunger and desperate need.
I pushed his head down, and he didn’t hesitate.
His hands gripped my thighs, holding me tight as his tongue traced fire along my slick folds, sliding from my clit to my entrance with expert precision.
“Oh, Dominic…”My body arched, fingers tangling in his hair. He lifted my legs onto his shoulders, devouring me like a man starved for days.
“Like that, dollface?” he teased, tongue flicking against my skin.
“Just like that.” I bit my lip to stifle my cries.
“Want my fingers too?”
“No. I want you to make me come with just your tongue.”
And God, he did. Before I could form another word, my body shattered against his mouth.
I screamed his name, voice raw and needy.
He kept going until I was seeing freaking stars on top of that table.
When he finally lifted his head, I was breathless, trembling, a wreck tangled on the glass table.
He rose, towering, smirk cocky and satisfied, lips stained with my release.
“Did I make you feel good, baby?”
I glared, cheeks flaming.
“Shut up,” I snapped, pulling him down for a fierce kiss.
The taste of us was intoxicating. For the first time, I was in control.
Pulling the strings. Watching the mighty Dominic Stone crumble willingly under my command.
I unbuckled his belt, kissed him hard, hungry for more.
His hands roamed, hungry, desperate. I freed him, nails digging into his back, urging him closer. He pulled back, panting but smirking.
“You want me that bad, dollface?”
“I want you to shut up and fuck me, Dominic Stone.”
He didn’t hesitate. He was naked in a minute, his cock pressed at my entrance, sending electric shock waves through me.
With one brutal thrust, he filled me, freezing inside as if to imprint every inch of himself deep in me.
I moaned, throwing my head back. He pounded harder, faster, one hand sliding up to grip my neck like a leash—tight enough to sting, but I craved it.
“Like that, my future wife?”
“Yes,” I cried, legs locking around his waist, nails raking his thighs. His eyes burned with fierce, desperate hunger. We lost ourselves in the wild rhythm, sweat heat, and raw need.
“Such a good fucking girl for me.”
I kissed him fiercely, marking him with my nails as he slammed into me again and again.
I came hard, body trembling, moans swallowed around his cock as he chased his own release.
One last, shuddering thrust, and he froze inside me.
His muscles tensed, throat moving as he groaned my name, spilling himself deep within.
It leaked, warm and thick, sliding down my thighs.
I bit my lip, cheeks flushed, savoring every damn second. Knowing he was mine, truly mine.
Dominic’s breathing slowed, chest rising and falling as he held me close, and when he finally released his grip from my neck, the slight pressure lingered, a silent promise of his claim.
“Thank you, Athena,” he whispered, forehead resting against mine.
“For what?” I frowned.
“For saving me.”
He kissed my forehead, and I trembled at the gentleness in his touch. I lifted his chin, searching his eyes, heart bursting with everything I felt.
“You saved me too,” I breathed.
“I love you. You know that, right?” he half smiled.
“I do,” I smiled, the weight of it settling like a warm fire. “But remind me every day for the rest of our lives.”
“It’ll be my fucking pleasure, dollface.”
I kissed him, and in that moment, the world disappeared. There was only us.
“My future Mr. King,” I whispered, tracing the scars on his face.
“Yours,” he swore.
I belonged here with that man, and there is nowhere else I would rather be. Our love wasn’t perfect, not even close, but it was real and it was ours.
Just as I curled into Dominic’s chest, the world finally quiet, my phone buzzed from the table. I groaned, reaching for it lazily, expecting a message from dad or mom, but the name on the screen made me sit up straighter.
Ace.
“It’s late.” Dominic said.
“Exactly,” I said, brows pulling together as I slid my finger across the screen. “He won’t call unless something’s wrong.”
He hasn’t talked to me in months. I answered right away.
“Ace?”
There was a pause, and static crackled on the line. Then I heard his voice.
“Can you talk?”
“Why? What’s going on?” I blinked. Another pause. I could hear voices in the background—muffled, tense. Then a door slammed, and everything went quiet.
“I need you,” he said at last, and my heart stopped for a second. Dominic stiffened beside me, already reading the shift in my posture.
“What is going on, Ace? Please, talk to me.”
But he didn’t answer the question.
‘‘Just come home.’’ Then he hung up, and I stared at the screen, the silence ringing louder than anything.
“What was that?”
I looked up at him, pulse racing, the warmth of our moment now replaced with a chill creeping down my spine.
‘‘We have to go home.’’