Chapter 26 Dom
DOM
Autumn led us down to River Walk, right in the heart of the city. The path curved alongside Snake River, its banks lined with lighting that flickered against the water. The falls weren’t loud, not from this distance, but the sound was constant, soothing.
We walked hand in hand, the city behind us fading into stillness. The lamps lit our steps, their glow pooling at our feet, and ahead, the white spires of Idaho Falls Temple rose above the trees. The falls spilled steadily beneath it, mist curling at their base.
I glanced over at Autumn.
She wasn’t just beautiful. She didn’t shimmer like some impossible thing I’d never reach. She was just real, present, and somehow more mine with every quiet second. I’d known a lot of women. I’d laughed with them, danced with them, and undressed them. But none had ever felt like this.
None had shredded me by simply holding my hand.
“I love Buffaloberry Hill,” she went on. “The people, the T-shirts.”
We laughed.
She added, “Sure, commuting for training might be tricky, but…there’s always a way, right?”
I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t. Because something opened inside me at that moment. It was not fear exactly, but something close. The kind that told you if you messed it up, you’d never forgive yourself.
She made me want to get it right.
I slipped my arms around her from behind and pulled her close, my chin resting lightly against her temple. Together, we stood there watching the falls, the soft roar spilling into the silence between us.
And when I couldn’t hold it anymore, I leaned down, brushed my lips just behind her ear, and whispered, “Will you come back to my hotel with me?”
She turned in my arms, her hands finding the front of my shirt. “That’s a bold ask, Counselor.”
I arched a brow. “You planning to object?”
She smiled, certain, all-in. “Not a chance.”
I opened the door and let her step in first. The moment we crossed the threshold, I reached for her coat and slid the fabric down her arms.
She paced leisurely toward the window as I hung the coat in the closet. It was still warm from her, still carrying her barely-there scent.
“So this is what a hotel room in my hometown looks like,” she said.
The view overlooked the river, dark now, but the glow from the path lights gave just enough away. The falls were a hush in the distance.
She stood there for a moment, silhouetted. A dream I’d somehow caught. And she was right here.
“Oh, you’ve got wine,” she said, motioning to the bottle on the table.
“It crossed my mind that I might be drinking it solo tonight. Figured I’d come prepared.”
“May I?” Her fingers were already on the cap.
“Of course.”
She uncorked it and reached for two glasses without hesitation. When she poured and lifted hers, she took one sip, then another. Then a third, too fast.
At dinner, she’d paced herself, always with water in between. Controlled. Composed. Now her hand lingered on the glass longer than it should’ve, the edge of the stem pressing into her skin like she needed the contact to ground herself.
Before she could tip it back again, I stepped closer. My fingers brushed hers, wrapping around the glass and guiding it down.
Her lips parted. I thought she’d object, but I just set the glass aside.
“You don’t need that,” I said quietly. “Not with me.”
I traced my hands up her arms, over the bare skin her dress so generously revealed. My mouth found the spot just below her ear, giving her the softest brush, but enough to make her tremble.
Then she turned in my arms, pressing against me, and kissed me back.
Her lips were hot and eager, her hands sliding up my chest and fisting my shirt. I deepened the kiss, drinking her in. Wine, lust, desire, trepidation. And I let my hands explore the curves that had driven me insane from the moment I laid eyes on her again.
Her dress was sinfully perfect, giving me access to the smooth skin of her back and the dip of her waist. I wanted more. Needed more.
We danced our way to the bed.
I pulled my shirt over my head, letting it fall to the floor. She sat at the edge of the bed, and I caught it—the hesitation, the slightest glance toward the wine glass.
I cupped her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek, forcing her eyes back to mine.
“You okay?” I whispered.
For the first time tonight, she looked vulnerable.
“Dom?”
“Otter?”
“I’ve never let anyone this close before. Not like this,” she whispered, threading her fingers through mine. The hold was deliberate, clearly saying this wasn’t just new. It was everything.
I had known she wasn’t like anyone I’d been with before, but this? This was a moment I hadn’t earned, but she’d given anyway.
My whole body was overwhelmed with awe. Of all the men she could’ve chosen, she wanted me. I couldn’t fathom how I deserved this, how I deserved her, but I knew one thing. I would never rush her and never let this be anything less than perfect for her.
I stopped letting my hands roam. Instead, I took both of hers in mine and held them between us.
“This means a lot, Autumn,” I said, my voice raw. “But know that I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
She exhaled shakily. “I want to be with you.”
I searched her face, making sure.
“I swear, Dom. I want you. I want to make love to you.”
That did it for me.
But not in a reckless way. No, this wasn’t just about bodies tangling under sheets. It was about showing her that giving herself didn’t mean giving anything away. That she could choose this and still be whole, still be her own.
I wanted her to feel that every second. I wanted to make her feel chosen, cherished, and strong.
Because this wasn’t about taking.
It was about letting her see exactly how deeply I was already hers.
My hands moved over her hips, then up, easing her out of her dress. She let it fall, standing before me in nothing but lace, black and delicate, and fuck if I didn’t feel like the luckiest man alive.
I stripped down to my briefs, my body thrumming with want, but I didn’t rush. I wouldn’t. Even though I felt like I was burning up inside, and even though I’d never wanted anything more, I held back.
Because she was more important than my need.
My hands skimmed up her waist, my lips following, pressing reverent kisses over every inch of skin I could reach. I eased her back, guiding her gently until she was lying on the bed, laid out like a prayer I hadn’t realized I’d been whispering for years.
I unhook her bra.
Her breasts weren’t just beautiful, they were hers. Perfect in their own right. High, firm, and aching to be adored. I cupped them, my thumbs brushing across the peaks just to watch her shiver.
Exquisite. God, she was exquisite.
And I’d take my time proving it.
My mouth wrapped around her nipple, sucking gently. Her body arched into me, her fingers clutching my shoulders, her thighs squeezing mine.
And then I kissed my way back up.
Because I would never abandon her lips.
Because, no matter what, I would always see her.
Still kissing her, I skimmed my fingers along the waistband of her panties, then discreetly slid them down. She sighed, lifting her hips slightly, granting me permission.
She was all swimmer’s muscle, lean and honed, but against me, she felt impossibly tender. I palmed her, my fingers skating over her folds, each stroke meant to seduce. Her head tipped back, giving me even more of her neck to explore. And fuck, I was hard, aching, dying for her.
But above all, I felt humbled by her reaction.
This woman, this fiery, stubborn, impossible woman, was coming undone for me.
I kissed down her stomach, my palms gliding over every inch of her bare skin like I could memorize her by touch alone.
Then I pushed my briefs down and moved to hover over her.
Autumn’s breath hitched. She sat up a little, her gaze drifting lower…and stopping. She tried to mask it, but I caught the flash of unease.
Others had looked at me like that before, and my attitude had always been take it or leave it. But with her, I cared. I wanted her to take me, wanted to earn it. I’d figure out what she needed and be the man who gave it to her. I’d wait as long as it took. What I couldn’t do was lose her.
I cupped her cheek. “You okay?”
She nodded, but it wasn’t the confident kind of nod. It was the kind you give when your heart’s all in, but your body’s trying to figure out the next step.
“I just…” She glanced down, her cheeks flushing. “You’re…kind of a lot.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. “I’ve heard that before. Usually not in this context.”
She laughed, soft and breathy.
“Want me to slow down?” I asked.
She teetered on the edge of a word. Then she nodded again. “Maybe just…guide me a little?”
That did something to me. Not lust. Not ego. She was letting me in, really in, and I’d treat it like the gift it was.
“You got it,” I said gently. “We go slow. At your pace. And just so you know, otters might be fast swimmers, but no one said you had to dive right in.”
That earned a real laugh. “Good. Because I’m not a beaver, Dom.”
God help me, I loved her.
I claimed her mouth again before reaching for the lube, letting her watch every step. I used more than usual, taking my time with her and coaxing every muscle to loosen under my hands.
But her body still fought it. She trusted me completely, but her nerves hadn’t caught up with that trust.
She let me lead, but this wasn’t about leading.
This was about reading her and knowing when to pause with her.
I pulled back, gently. “You don’t have to take me tonight.”
Her lashes lifted. “Dom…”
“I mean it,” I murmured. “You’re tense. If you’re not ready, it will be hard for me to please you. And I want this to feel good for you. Not something you just get through.”
“I want it,” she said quickly. “I really do. It just…caught me off guard. I need a minute to prepare myself.”
Her sweetness? Her honesty? It gutted me.
“This night isn’t about what we don’t do,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s about what we do right.”