13. Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
~JESSICA~
My heels hammer against the stairs, adrenaline ripping through my veins, breath coming out in stupid, panicked little gasps. I hear him behind me, each footstep landing with violent intent. I glance over my shoulder and see Dom taking the stairs two at a time.
I whip my head forward and nearly scream. “Shit, shit, shit,” I squeak, grabbing the banister and launching myself up another step.
I bolt, scrambling the last few steps toward the bedroom. My fingers fumble with the doorknob before I finally wrench it open.
I spin and try to slam it shut, but his hand shoots out and stops it cold. I barely have a second to brace myself before Dom shoves the door inward without an ounce of effort, sending me stumbling back a couple of steps.
He fills the doorframe and my heart jumps in my throat. He looks like a storm in human form—breathing hard, lip bleeding, eyes almost black.
We stare at each other for two long heartbeats. Then his tongue drags across his bottom lip, collecting the blood I drew there.
“You bit me.” His voice is low and gravelly, too calm for how wrecked he looks.
I back up instinctively as he steps inside, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch he takes from me.
“You deserved it.” My voice comes out harsh.
I wanted this. I wanted to crack that perfect composure and force him to admit that he wants me. And he did. But I don’t feel like I’ve won. I feel like I played myself, because I’m the one unraveling.
I’m the one who already cares too much. If he doesn’t feel this too, I’m not ready for the heartbreak.
I’m so turned on, and so scared of wanting him, that I’d rather claw at my own chest than admit it out loud. There are always going to be women like Valencia—beautiful and ready to throw themselves at him—and he might choose them.
That’s why I need distance. Safety. But he’s not giving me any.
He keeps coming, a slow, unstoppable storm, stepping deeper into the room, deeper into my fear, deeper into my need for him to feel something for me too.
His gaze drops to my body, lingers, then lifts back up with something dark and hungry simmering behind it.
“You didn’t seem so scared when you slid your hand up my leg.
When you came down in a towel. When you laid out on my sunbed half naked,” he says quietly, stalking toward me.
“And now you run from me like a scared little rabbit.”
“Get out,” I snap, but it comes out weak.
“Mm,” he hums. “Such a little tease.” His voice drops to a taunt. “I should’ve known you couldn’t handle the consequences.”
My pride flares, hot and reckless. “I can handle anything.”
Dominic stops right in front of me, looming with his bleeding lip and feral eyes.
Close enough that his clean, masculine scent wraps around me again.
His hand lifts slowly, sliding up my arm, and I shiver.
He slides his fingers into the back of my hair, gripping the strands at my nape in one firm, unhurried fist. The tension forces my head up, my chin tipping toward him.
A soft gasp escapes me, and his mouth curves. “Can you really?” he whispers.
My pulse beats fast against his fingers. He angles my face higher, eyes burning into mine. “Are you gonna run again,” he murmurs, voice a dark drawl, “or are you going to take what you’ve been begging for?”
I feel the truth clawing its way up my throat as his fingers slip deeper into my hair. “Answer me.”
My pulse is throbbing in my throat and between my legs. I swallow hard, pride and fear and desire tangling in my chest. “Do you think your pretty face will get you whatever you want?” I narrow my eyes, giving more defiance than I feel.
A slow, wicked smile curves his lips. “My pretty face does get me whatever I want,” he murmurs.
Heat floods my cheeks. My breath catches as he leans in, his hips ghosting against mine, his voice brushing my lips like smoke. “And right now?” His mouth trails lower until his lips hover just above my jaw. “I want the little tease who bit me.”
My breath stutters. He shifts his grip in my hair, angling my face as his mouth finally touches me. A soft drag of lips along mine that sets my whole body on fire. His mouth moves lower, warm heat brushing my throat. His teeth graze my skin and my legs nearly buckle.
“Too bad,” I breathe, head falling back as he kisses down my neck. “You’re not getting it.”
He bites the soft pulse of my throat with a growl. My hands fly to him instinctively, fingers digging into his shirt to keep myself upright. He lifts his head, smiling that cruel smile. He pulls me closer by my hair, not hurting, just guiding.
“You think I haven’t been fighting myself every fucking day not to take what you keep offering me?” he says. “Tonight, I’m taking the offer, Jessica.”
He leans down and covers my lips with his. Dominic’s kiss is rough and hungry—teeth and heat, his mouth hot and insistent. I taste metal. Blood. Him. It makes something feral come alive in me. His hand angles my head exactly where he wants it, and I melt into him despite myself.
His hand slips from my hair to my waist, both palms settling there before my feet leave the floor. He walks me backward, mouth still fused to mine. My stomach falls when he drops me onto the bed. I sink into the mattress, and Dominic climbs after me.
He crawls up my body, muscles shifting under his shirt, eyes locked on mine like I’m something he’s been hunting for weeks.
I can’t believe this is happening. This is what happens in the movies—the moment girls giggle about in theaters. Only I’m not watching. I’m in it. With an NHL captain.
His weight dips the mattress as he settles over me, chest inches from mine. I’ve imagined this, but imagination doesn’t prepare you for the real thing: the way he looks above me, how my body reacts, and how fear and excitement twist together into something delicious.
I’ve never done this before. Never felt someone’s weight, someone’s breath, someone’s hunger. I’m not experienced. What if I embarrass myself? But I want him so badly that the need swallows my paranoia.
He dips his head until his lips brush the corner of my mouth, testing and teasing. He nudges my knees apart with his knee, and my body jolts.
“I should’ve fucked the attitude out of you that night at the club,” he snarls. “And every time you run that bratty little mouth.”
Fucked me? Oh God. My thighs squeeze together instinctively. His hand lands on my inner thigh, firm and deliberate.
“After seeing you flirt with that scrawny prick by the bar? Like you forgot whose name you’ve been moaning in your sleep.” His fingers slide higher up my dress and I shudder, my back arching again.
“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he murmurs, his voice like fire licking my skin. “To see what happens when you push me too far.”
“Did it work?” I breathe, mustering all the fire I have.
Dominic smiles, lowering his head, kissing my neck. “Mhm,” he hums.
“Good,” I say, glaring when he pulls away. “Suffer. ”
His mouth curves into a slow, knowing smirk. His fingers tighten on my thigh and his mouth drops to my chest. Every thought dies as he sucks my nipple through the dress—enough to make me jolt.
My hands scramble for something to hold onto, and I end up clutching his biceps, thick, flexed, solid as stone.
“You think you’re in control here?” He says against my breast, lips brushing the fabric. “You think you get to tease me for weeks, then run away when shit gets real?”
I twist beneath him, head swimming. “You can’t handle it?” I whisper.
He drags his hand back up the inside of my thigh, right to the place that’s already soaked. He pauses there and presses the heel of his palm against me through the thin fabric. My hips betray me, pushing into his hand without my permission.
A low chuckle leaves him. His hand disappears before reappearing on my thigh.
It slides down the sides of my legs, then curls beneath the hem of my dress.
Without breaking eye contact, he starts to push the dress up—inch by inch, his fingers grazing my skin, hiking the fabric higher and higher until the soft material bunches around my hips, pooling like a halo of silk at my waist.
I’m breathing too fast, high on anticipation. His eyes drop between my legs and I’m sure he sees the wet spot on my panties. I blink past my embarrassment.
“Never seen a woman’s underwear before?” I bite, trying to steady my voice, but it comes out cracked.
He chuckles, ridiculing the question. “You always this wet when you get mouthy?”
I open my mouth to speak, but his fingers hook under my panties and slide them aside. The cold air hits me there and I jerk beneath him, my whole body seizing up.
Heat flares in his eyes. Then his fingers are between my legs, spreading me open for him.
Oh God.
The feeling of having fingers on me that aren’t mine is foreign and dizzying.
“Fucking hell,” he rasps.
I shake my head, trembling. I’ve never had anyone look at me down there except my OBGYN. She definitely doesn’t look at it the way Dominic is looking .
“Your pussy is gorgeous,”
I cover my face with my hands, burning alive from the inside out. He leans in, grabs my wrists, and yanks them up over my head. “Don’t hide from me.” His voice is soft, almost reverent.
My hips buck without permission and he grins above me, before his thumb drags up, over my clit.
“God!” I suck in a breath sharp enough to choke.
“Oh, there she is,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “So fucking sensitive.”
He does it again, firmer this time, giving me a slow stroke that lights up my spine.
I bite down hard on my lip to muffle the moan, my eyes fluttering. But his thumb lifts, and I almost grunt at the loss. “Please,” I whisper.
“What do you want, Jessica?”
My body is strung so tight I could snap. I don’t know whether sanity or restraint will go first, but I grab him. I fist the collar of his shirt and yank him hard enough to drag him down to me. He braces a hand next to my head, curious eyes.