Chapter 19 Dominic
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DOMINIC
Ihovered over Sasha, braced on my forearms, watching the way faelight painted shadows across her face.
Her dark hair spread across my pillow and there was no place I’d rather be with her than here in my bed.
Her gaze held mine, and I found want mixed with affection there.
I was falling in love with this woman who’d started as a political necessity and quickly became essential.
I kissed her again, slower than before, savoring how she arched up against me, how she released that little moan that had been haunting my dreams for days.
She gripped my shoulders, her fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks I’d probably admire later.
When I pulled back, my grin rose. “You know, for someone who treats everything like a military operation, you’re surprisingly good at spontaneous decision-making.”
Her laugh came out breathless. “Spontaneous? You’re the one who said you’ve been looking at me like you wanted to devour me since I made those embarrassing sounds over Alaina’s cakes.”
“Guilty as charged.” I nuzzled into her neck, finding that spot where her pulse jumped. “But you can’t blame me. Watching you discover pleasure is about to become my new favorite pastime.” I kissed that exact spot, feeling her shiver, then moved to the collar of her gown.
The laces on the front seemed unnecessarily complicated all of the sudden. I worked at them, fumbling because I ached to take this slow. I wanted to savor every moment of unwrapping her like a gift. The first lace came free, exposing a strip of skin I immediately kissed.
She arched beneath me. “Is this another one of your investigations? Should I expect a full written report?”
“Absolutely. With detailed annotations.” I tugged the second lace loose, the fabric parting wider. “Consider this the preliminary research phase. Very thorough. Very hands-on.”
Her fingers threaded through my hair, tugging enough to make me look up. “Preliminary? How many phases are we talking about here?”
“I’m thinking at least seven. Maybe eight if you count—” I lost my train of thought as the gown opened enough to reveal the curve of her breasts.
I paused, drinking her in. Her chest rose and fell and a flush spread across her skin.
She was beautiful in a way that made my throat tighten, all soft curves and hidden strength.
I kissed the swell of one breast. “Eight phases minimum. This requires extensive study.”
“Eight phases sounds ambitious even for you.” Her voice had gone slightly higher, breathy in a way that made heat shoot straight to my cock.
I worked at more laces, kissing each new bit of exposed skin.
“You doubt my stamina? I’m wounded.” The gown opened further, and I helped her slip one arm free, then the other, kissing each shoulder as I went.
“If you were a garden plot, and I know how much you must love hearing me compare you to vegetation, you’d be the kind that takes over everything.
One that spreads in unexpected directions. Impossible to contain or ignore.”
“Are we still talking about plants, or have you moved on to poorly disguised metaphors?”
I grinned against her collarbone. “Can’t it be both?
” I peeled the fabric down to her waist, and then I had to stop and look.
Those curves I’d only imagined beneath her practical gowns were right in front of me, real and warm and perfect.
I leaned in and kissed the space between her breasts, sliding my mouth to one nipple, circling it with my tongue before sucking.
She gasped, her back rising off the bed. “That’s—You’re—This isn’t fair. You’re supposed to be charming, not competent.”
“Who says I can’t be devastatingly skilled at multiple things?
” I switched to give her other breast the same attention, cupping the first, brushing over the peak.
Her moan vibrated through both of us, and I decided that sound might be my new favorite thing in the world.
Better than court approval. Better than solving mysteries.
Just Sasha, responding to me with complete honesty.
I shifted her gown lower, bunching it at her hips while I kissed down her belly.
“Poetry is for people who don’t know how to show what they mean. ”
She lifted her hips, helping me slide the fabric down and off completely. “I appreciate a man who understands strategic communication.” Her attempt at sounding professional fell apart on the last word as I kissed below her navel.
I tossed her gown aside, and it landed on my desk chair in a pool of fabric I’d deal with later, and sat back on my heels to take in all of her.
Her long legs went on forever. The dip of her waist begged for kisses.
And her curves… I itched to stroke them.
But more than that, it was the way she looked at me.
Fierce and open and trusting. That’s what had me completely lost for her.
It wasn’t only her physical perfection, but this amazing woman choosing to be vulnerable with me.
I was so desperately in love with her it actually hurt.
I leaned down and kissed her inner thigh, starting high and working my way slowly inward. “You’re beautiful, Sasha. Every single part of you.”
Her cheeks flushed darker, but she managed a smirk. “Flattery is an excellent strategic tool. But I believe you mentioned something about showing me how much I meant to you?”
“Wise idea. Less talking, more demonstrating.” I settled between her legs, my hands on her thighs, gently encouraging them wider.
She was already wet, and the sight made my mouth water and my heart pound.
I kissed the crease where her thigh met her body, deliberately avoiding where I knew she wanted me most. Then I blew a soft breath across her center, watching a shiver rip through her body.
“You’re evil,” she said.
I laughed, the sound coming out rough with want.
“You’re giving me too much credit. I just like watching you squirm.
” But I couldn’t tease forever. I wanted this too much.
Instead of going straight in like she probably expected, I traced the outline of her with just my fingertip.
Light, exploratory, learning her shape like I was studying a new magical pattern.
She twitched, a small whine escaping her throat that made me smile.
Then I followed the same path with my tongue, but not in straight lines. I drew spirals, starting at the outside and working inward in slow circles, never quite touching her clit. Teasing the edges, tasting her, feeling her responses.
“Dominic…” My name came out shaky. “That’s… That’s not standard technique.”
“Standard is boring.” I looked up at her, meeting her eyes, and found the connection that went deeper than only physical. I was showing her how I felt in the only way I knew how. “I thought you’d appreciate creative problem-solving.”
“I do. I really, really do. But if you don’t—” She cut off with a gasp as I pressed a kiss right at her entrance, then used my tongue to part her gently.
I took my time, exploring with long, slow strokes of my tongue, alternating between broad flat licks and more pointed flicks. Not rushing toward any goal, just learning what made her breath catch, what made her hips shift.
Her head fell back, a moan pulling from deep in her chest. “Fates, that’s… I wasn’t expecting…”
I pulled back enough to speak, my breath ghosting across wet skin. “Good unexpected or bad unexpected?”
“Good. Definitely good. Stop talking and keep going.” Her hand found my hair, her fingers tangling and guiding me back.
I rumbled my agreement against her, the vibration making her gasp and her thighs tremble on either side of my head.
Then I tried something different, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin around her clit, like I was trying to coax a reluctant flower to bloom.
She bucked, her hips lifting off the bed, and I had to pin her down with my forearm across her hips.
“Easy,” I said against her skin. “I’m going to give you everything you need.” I had her in every way that mattered. This wasn’t just about making her feel good, though that was definitely a priority. This was me trying to show her without words how completely she’d captured me.
I went back to tracing patterns with my tongue, this time more deliberate. Runes, almost, or the shapes mages draw when casting. Swirls and lines and curves that built tension without release. I cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers in time with the movements of my mouth.
She was writhing now, her breathing coming in short pants. One hand twisted in the sheets while the other stayed buried in my hair. “Dominic, please. You’re absolutely killing me here.”
“Killing you sweetly, I hope.” I laughed against her, earning another moan, before I finally focused on her clit, though not the way she probably expected.
I circled it with just the tip of my tongue, feather-light, then flattened my tongue for broader strokes.
I alternated the pressure, the speed, and the pattern.
Circle, press, flick. Circle, press, flick.
Like conducting magic, building power with each repetition.
Her legs were shaking now, trembling on either side of my face. “That’s—oh fates, that’s—Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I was lost in this, in her, in the way she responded to every touch. Love swelled in my chest until it felt like I was going to burst with it.
I added my fingers, sliding one inside her slowly while my mouth stayed focused on her clit. She was tight and wet and felt perfect around me. I found the spot that would drive her wild. Her whole body jerked.
“Yes! Right there, Dominic, right—” Her words dissolved into incoherent sounds.
I kept the rhythm steady, fingers stroking inside her while my tongue teased her clit in that same pattern.
Circle, press, flick. My other hand alternated between her breast and her hip, grounding her, claiming her, pouring everything I felt into my touch because words were inadequate at a time like this.
I could feel her climbing toward the edge, her inner walls starting to flutter around my finger. Her breathing came shorter, more desperate. Her hand in my hair tightened to the point of pain, but I didn’t care. I kept the rhythm exactly the same, giving her what she needed.
“Dominic, I’m—I’m going to—”
“Let go,” I murmured against her. “I’m here with you. Let go for me.”
She shattered. Her whole body went rigid for a heartbeat before waves of pleasure crashed through her. She clenched around my fingers while I gentled my tongue, drawing out her orgasm with softer, slower movements. She cried out my name, and that was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
I eased her through it, bringing her down gradually, replacing my tongue with soft kisses as she came back to herself.
When her breathing finally started to even out and her grip on my hair loosened and her legs stopped trembling, I kissed my way back up her body.
I took my time, pressing my lips to her hip, her belly, between her breasts, her collarbone, and her jaw.
When I reached her mouth, she kissed me back. Her arms came around my neck, pulling me down until I was covering her again. She made a satisfied sound low in her throat.
“So,” I said when we finally broke apart, “how was the preliminary survey? Did I miss any important details?”
She laughed, the sound still breathless. “I think you were extremely thorough. Though I may need to review your findings for accuracy.”
“I’m always happy to replicate my results. You know, for scientific rigor.” I rolled to the side, tugging her against my chest so she could curl into me. Her head fit perfectly under my chin, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her heartbeat gradually slow.
As we lay on the bed, I traced lazy patterns on her back. The faelights started to fade, and outside, I heard the faint sounds of the court settling for the night.
I wanted to tell her I was falling in love with her, that she’d become the most important person in my world.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” she said in a soft voice. “When Grandmother proposed the alliance, I thought it would be duty and politics and separate lives. I never thought—”
“That you’d end up in bed with a king who has a thing for watching you eat pastries?”
Her laugh vibrated through us. “That I’d end up with someone who makes me want the softer things life can gives us, like companionship. I never thought I’d find someone who understands both my strategic side and my…” She gestured vaguely. “The messy emotional parts I’m usually terrible at.”
“You’re not terrible at emotions. You’re just selective about when you show them.” I kissed her forehead. “And I’m honored to be someone you choose to show them to.”
She snuggled closer, and I realized this was the perfect moment. We’d solved one mystery. We were close to solving another. And we’d found something real together in the process.
Maybe everything would work out alright.