Chapter Fifteen #2
“I don’t know why he doesn’t simply marry her,” she said quietly. “If he breaks her heart again, Bill will surely have his
head.”
“Again?”
Tess turned back to him, her expression pinched with worry. “Two summers ago, they had a . . . romance. I’d never seen Tris
so happy, and Justine is lovely and clever and kind. I expected him to offer for her.” She shook her head. “Instead, he crushed
her by ending things abruptly.”
“Was there a falling-out?”
“No, Tristan says he’s not the marrying sort.” She turned back to the window after that declaration.
Dom suspected she thought the same of him. Hell, he’d told himself something akin to it for most of his life. Change was a fearful thing, especially when there was no promise that all would be well in the end.
“If he’s with her today, then perhaps he’s found the courage to be a different sort.”
Tess approached him, coming to stand with him near the fire. “I hope so,” she said with a wistful little tinge of longing
in her tone. “I want to see him happy again.”
Dom resisted reaching for her, though everything in him longed to.
“And what do you want, Tess?”
When her head came up and their gazes clashed, the look in her eyes caused the organ behind his ribcage to thud in a strange,
unsteady way it never had before.
In his life, he’d gorged himself on adventure, fed himself on anticipation of what came next. But in that moment, everything
seemed to stop short, balanced on a precipice.
It couldn’t have been more than a moment that he waited for her answer, and yet his future seemed to hinge on it, so the world
shrunk until all he saw was the lovely naked longing in her eyes.
“I want you.”
That was all Dom needed to hear. Too quickly for her to utter another word, he stepped forward, took her by the waist, and
lifted her against him. He kissed her with all he dared not say to her. Not yet. He kissed her with all the feelings that
were so damned new, frightening, but too powerful to ignore.
She responded to him in kind, one hand tangling in his hair, the other gripping the muscles of his shoulder.
As he pulled back to look in her eyes, she reached for his hand.
“Come with me.” She was a beckoning siren, and he needed no convincing.
She led him to her bedroom, and he shed his coat as she went to close the curtains on two windows that looked out on rolling
green fields.
When she turned back to him, he caught a flicker of hesitation in her gaze.
Then she approached boldly, stopping just before him. With maddening slowness, she began to unfasten the tiny buttons that
ran down the length of her blouse. Dom followed her lead and unbuttoned his own shirt too. It took him less time, and she
smiled appreciatively when he shrugged the fabric from his shoulders.
Dom licked his lips when she dropped her blouse to the ground, revealing an ivory corset beneath.
Rather than unfasten it, she reached for the fly of her trousers, paused, and then arched one tawny brow as if waiting for
him to do the same.
Dom made quick work of the buttons on his trousers, and then nearly lost his bloody mind as she inched the fabric down her
gloriously long legs. Then she had her corset off a moment later, and the peaked tips of her lush breasts strained against
the fabric of her chemise.
“Mercy.” His mouth watered, and his thoughts scattered.
He tried to shove his own trousers off as artfully, but he was too eager, too starved for a glimpse of that heaven at the
apex of her thighs, hidden only now by the thinnest cotton drawers.
“Mercy indeed,” she breathed as she fixed her green gaze on his aching hard cock.
He shot her a shameless grin.
“Shall I help you with the rest?” Dom licked his lips and took a step closer, desperate to free her of every other bit of fabric between them. He reached for the pale-yellow ribbon at the top edge of her chemise.
One tug and the garment gaped wide enough for him to slip it over her shoulders and watch it glide down to her feet. Then
he lowered himself to his knees before her. His hand trembled like he was a green boy as he unlaced the ribbon of her drawers.
Then he reached down and swept both garments aside.
Tess slid her fingers into his hair, and he groaned at how good it felt, how much he longed for her touch everywhere.
“These legs,” he rasped, stroking his fingers from her calves up to her thighs as he got to his feet.
She shivered and then gasped when he bent to scoop her into his arms. Her gaze turned toward the bed, then she frowned when
he walked her to the wall next to the fireplace.
Dom set her down gently. “I have another idea,” he told her softly.
“Against the wall?” she asked confusedly.
“Only if you wish it, Tess. Only if you trust me,” he whispered and knew he was asking for a great deal from a woman whose
faith had once been abused.
She swallowed hard in the dimmed light of her room, nodded, and stepped back.
Dom held her gaze as he lowered himself before her once more. She watched him, a curious tilt to her head, as he stroked her
leg again and this time urged her to lift it.
She nodded, giving him the permission he sought, and he settled her leg over his shoulder.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
Looking up at her again, he watched her eyes as he slid his fingers along her inner thigh, a stroke of delicious heat all
the way to her curls.
Tess bit her lip as he touched her. His gaze never left hers, as if he needed to see her reaction, wanted to know what pleased her.
As his fingers slid into her heat, she bucked against him, then let out a moan when he found the spot where all her need seemed
to center.
Reaching down, she slid her fingers into his thick hair, and he let out a low sound of pleasure that made her heart thrum
inside her chest.
“Can I taste you, Tess?” His voice had dropped to a husky rumble.
The moment she nodded, he bent his head and stroked his tongue along the path his fingers had taken. Her body began to quiver
as he licked her, and he lifted a hand to her hip, gripping firmly as if to assure her that he would not let her fall.
But he didn’t stop tasting her, flicking his tongue in the most exquisite way, driving her closer to the edge.
When he slipped a finger inside her, she gasped at how good it felt, and he stilled, as if uncertain whether her exhale was
one of pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
As if the words spurred him, his languid strokes turned hungrier, and his finger sought the spot that made her breath catch.
Her body convulsed as her release caught her up, spinning her high. Her breath caught in her throat, her muscles tensed, and
then she felt herself coming down into bone-melting bliss.
When she opened her eyes, he was there, holding her in his arms, looking at her as if she was the remarkable one when he’d
just given her more pleasure than she’d ever felt in her life.
She cupped his jaw and kissed him. He smiled against her lips a moment before pulling her closer, until there was no space between them.
He stroked his fingers through her hair, then trailed his hand down to circle her nipple. Dipping his head to kiss her neck,
he pulled back an inch. “How are you?” His breath gusted hot against her skin.
Tess laughed. “Can you not tell?”
He nipped her neck lightly with his teeth, and she gasped. “I need to know.”
Tess found the edge of his jaw with her fingertips, lifting it until their gazes met.
“I’m dazed, in the best way,” she told him, her voice a quiet rasp. “I want you, Dominic.” Licking her lips, she added, “I
trust you.”
He swallowed hard. His eyes flashed as if with shock, then glowed with an emotion she couldn’t name. “Maybe that tree is magic
after all,” he said with a grin.
Tess’s throat burned. “That was your wish?”
He answered with a kiss that stole her breath, then cupped her face tenderly. “It was.”
Tess reached down and clasped his hand in hers, then started toward the bed, looking back at him as he followed.
The hunger in his eyes made her heart flutter in her chest. “My siren.”
She climbed onto the bed, then reached for him again, and he joined her, bracing his body above hers. Tess needed him closer
and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss until he’d settled his body against hers.
The warmth and weight of his body was as soothing as it was maddening. She stroked down his back as she held him, tracing across the rippling muscles. She wanted this man with an ache she’d never felt before.
He hadn’t cajoled her into this moment, hadn’t promised her anything but pleasure and respect for her every wish.
And her only wish was to have him closer.
She bucked against him, and he looked into her eyes.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what, Tess?” Yet he knew the answer because he shifted then and filled her with one maddeningly slow stroke. “Is that
what you want?” He rocked into her, and she bent her knees, arching against him.
He bent his head to kiss her neck, nip at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. “Tell me,” he rasped, even as he stroked
deep inside her.
“Yes.” The word emerged on a gasp.
He took her mouth, kissing her deeply, his tongue matching the thrust of his body. Need built inside her again, that delicious
pull toward her release. She dug her fingers into his shoulder, and he pulled back, watching her as he took her to that peak.
She reached up, curled a hand around his neck, and he let her pull him into a kiss.
But then he lifted his head and fixed his gaze on hers again.
“I want to watch when you let go,” he whispered, his breathing ragged.
And she did, gasping and moaning through the shudders, feeling the moment he built toward his own release.
When he did, he dipped his head, groaned against her neck, and withdrew from her.
At the loss of him, a little sound of protest welled up in her, and yet Tess understood he was protecting her.
That brought a rush of warmth in her chest. He bent, his mouth against her cheek, his harsh breaths hot against her skin.
“Tess, exquisite siren,” he murmured as he settled beside her and wrapped her in his arms.
She settled against him, feeling sated beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Nothing before had been like this. She felt
safe in his arms, and that was the most exquisite feeling of all.