Filthy Dirty Dom (Sex Gods of Manhattan #2)

Chapter 1

1

A lex Samuels had the uncanny ability to be asleep one moment and then fully alert the next, which is why when he woke up, he didn’t even have to open his eyes before he was instantly aware of three things: he was in his bed, there was a woman beside him, and his entire body ached. But it wasn’t the good kind of ache that normally followed an intense night of fucking, but the bad kind, where his kidney felt like it was bursting and his head was throbbing, likely because he’d been in yet another fight, a common occurrence for him given he’d been a soldier and now protected people for a living.

He took a deep breath, smelling vanilla and honey with a hint of patchouli, a warm and sweet combination--an aroma that was burned in his brain as belonging to not just any woman, but one.

Another realization hit, but this one slammed into him like a freight train.

The woman beside him was Leslie Duke. Even if she hadn’t once listed off the individual scents in her perfume, he would still recognize it as hers. Hell, he’d fantasized about having himself covered in her scent more times than he could count. More specifically, he had a running stream of fantasies detailing how he’d cover himself in her scent: burying his face then his fingers then his cock between her thighs while he stroked, licked, and bit, all the while rubbing their bodies against one another until he finally fucked her.

His entire body tensed, and his cock shot straight from lazy-morning-erection to hard-as-steel. To his shame, not everything he’d fantasized about had remained fantasy, and now he found himself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations, memories inundating his mind like an unstoppable force. The colors were vibrant and alive, each detail crystal clear, as if etched into his very soul. Pulsing and overwhelming, the memories of his recent hook ups with his best friend’s younger sister electrified him, sending his adrenaline rushing.

He remembered when he’d shared his first kiss with Leslie in Montana, then hours later worked her hard, squeezing her throat, and pinching and slapping her clit before plunging his fingers inside her, pushing her over the edge.

Then later, him getting off while watching her deliberately masturbate for him in front of the security cameras.

Finally, Leslie taunting him by sending him a picture of her in restraints and a ball gag, which had in turn led to amazing phone sex between them.

Their chemistry was hot enough to create nuclear fission, and if they ever did fuck, it would surpass anything he’d ever experienced by a landslide.

And yet, he couldn’t have her. Despite his moments of weakness, he’d made that clear to her time and time again.

So what was she doing lying in bed beside him?

Leslie moaned and stirred, the sound causing his cock to jerk, and the memory of their time in Montana became even more vivid.

He’d joined the Duke family there despite knowing he’d be tempted by Leslie, who’d been hinting more and more that they should be together. What he hadn’t been expecting was for Leslie to twice taunt him into kissing her

Both times, he’d told himself that’s all it would be—a kiss.

Both times, he’d been wrong.

After kissing her the second time, he’d carried her into his room. He’d laid her on his bed, and she’d stared at him, her eyes dark and filled with need. When she’d reached for him, he’d pinned her wrists over her head and stared deep into her gorgeous green eyes. Then he’d wrapped her wrists in the sheets, a restraint she could escape if she tried, but he was banking on her not doing that. In her eyes, there was no fear, only heat and a challenge as she made a needy sound that stunned him.

She wanted to submit to him. She wanted him to do all manner of filthy things to her. And he’d wanted to know just how far she’d let him go.

It turned out, quite far.

He’d held on to enough control to go slow but he didn’t go soft. No, he’d loosened the reins on his dark desires to give her and himself a taste of what it could be like between them. And once he’d gotten started…

Montana in November

Alex slid his hand into Leslie’s thick leggings and cupped her pussy, surprised to find she was bare, groaning at how hot and wet she was against his palm.

“No panties?” he asked, rubbing the heel of his hand against her clit. “How naughty of you, Sunshine.”

She blinked, trying to speak through the pleasure he was giving her. “Sunshine?”

He shrugged. “It fits, don’t you think? You thrive in the sun. You reflect the sun. You are the sun, Leslie. You bring love and light to all those who know you.”

Her eyes softened with something he refused to acknowledge. “And you?”

“Don’t you know by now? I’m not just the dark. I’m an abyss. And you’ll lose yourself in me. I’d extinguish your flame.”

She shook her head. “No! Alex, that's not you. You—”

He stopped her from speaking by firmly pressing two fingers into her pussy. “No more talk, baby. You wanted this? You wanted to look into the abyss? Let’s give you just a little taste.”

He added another finger. She was so tight. So hot. So wet. Her pussy fluttered around his fingers. He worked her until she was close, so close, and he marveled that he could get her there so quickly, on the edge of the abyss he’d referred to, about to fall over the edge. He pulled his fingers out before she could come. She let out a frustrated cry, then yelped as he teasingly swatted her thigh.

She moaned as if he’d pressed a vibrator against her clit.

He wanted to make her beg.

“You don’t come without my permission,” he said, his voice rough. “Ever.”

“I don’t know if I can stop it,” she said.

No games. Not with Leslie Duke. She offered pure honesty. She wanted him to know he affected her so intensely that even her own body wasn’t in control when he touched her.

He positioned himself between her legs and wrapped his hand lightly around her throat, pressing her into the bed just enough to keep her there. Her eyes widened.

Fuck, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He shouldn’t be doing this to her.

He loosened his fingers and began to pull away, only Leslie grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t stop. I—I want this.”

He studied her carefully. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Slowly, he resumed his light grip. Then he bent down, licked her lips and hiked one of her legs up over his hip.

He pulled her shirt open, holding her still as he lowered his mouth to her nipple and sucked hard, spurred on by her pleas for more and more. When she told him not to go easy with her, he wanted to roar with pleasure. She trusted him. After he’d spanked her. After he’d put pressure against her throat. After he’d warned her what would happen if she fell too deeply into him.

And that made him feel fucking invincible.

But not careless. Never careless. Everything he did to her he’d do with deliberation. Thought. And every action would be to jack up not just his own pleasure, but hers.

“Give me a safe word,” he bit out.

She hesitated then said, “Shopping.”

He almost burst out laughing. His girl did love to shop. It was how she’d first approached him in her quest to win his heart, by offering to shop with him for new clothes after Branden, her brother, bought the company Dubois &Mellan and Alex needed to dress “more respectable for the office,” as she’d put it.

“Works for me,” he murmured.

He released her throat and yanked down her leggings then spread her open. Fitting himself into the cradle of her thighs, he pushed against her, his hips rolling against her.

“You’re going to come and I’m going to make it happen. Me,” he said, panting with desire. The temptation to open his pants and shove himself into her was making his head spin. He ground his hips against her a little harder and swatted her thigh again.

She cried out, struggling and arching into him. He sank his teeth into her bare shoulder. She cried out as he licked and nibbled, alternating between giving her a hint of pain with her pleasure as he caressed her breasts and squeezed her nipples.

Then her voice took on that desperate, mindless tone he was craving.

“Alex… please. Please, I want more… Please!”

Without taking her, he gave her more in a way he’d never thought he would with Leslie. Rough. Demanding.

Dominating.

After her orgasm rocketed through her, he savored every bit of her climax and when she collapsed into the bed, he kissed her ear, told her how beautiful she was, then slowly shifted off and to the side of her. The sheets slipped free from around her wrists as she brought her arms down. She was flushed. Her eyes glossy and dazed. Tears streamed down her face.

And his gut plummeted.

He knew they were tears of pleasure and not fear or sadness. But as he stared at her satiated face, at how thoroughly ruined she looked, he had a sudden image of doing so much more to her. He reached out to fist his hand in her hair so he could make her deep throat his cock. Then he imagined putting nipple clamps on her. Flogging her. Tying her to a bondage cross in his favorite sex club so everyone could see her beg for him and know she was his completely…

He froze in the act of reaching for her.

She had been delicious. Her warmth surrounded him and he wanted to stay in her light. He wanted more, but it would be so much more than what they just did. Too much.

This was Leslie. His best friend’s little sister.

What the fuck was he doing?

The familiar guilt and regret shot through him, just like it shot through him now, in his home, with Leslie lying next to him in bed.

Alex shifted, aware that a thin film of perspiration now covered his brow, Alex unclenched his white-knuckled fingers from the bedsheet and willed himself to regain control. Taking several deep breaths, he focused on the rhythm of his inhales and exhales, letting the air fill his lungs and centering himself in the present moment. Slowly, the vibrant colors and pulsing sensations began to recede, and he felt his heartbeat steady.

It was only then that he looked at Leslie. Instead of further overwhelming him, seeing her lying fully dressed beside him brought clarity.

He'd done a job last night. Rescued Lucy, a young woman who was being held hostage by her stepfather, Ed Pearson, a prominent federal judge. In the process, he’d had to fight off Pearson’s men, earning himself a broken rib and a bruised kidney. After he’d been treated, he’d come home, visited with his friend, bodyguard Luke Calloway, and downed his fair share of whiskey. Then Leslie had shown up, checking up on him. He must have passed out and Leslie, even after he’d told her in no uncertain terms they couldn’t be more than friends, had stayed. He should be pissed, but he didn’t have it in him.

She looked as gorgeous as ever, her dark hair cascading gently over her fair skin, creating a striking contrast that mesmerized him. Her features were delicate but sharp, her body petite but with curves in all the right places. Even in the dim light of the room, her beauty radiated, illuminating the space around them.

He wanted her. Not just her body, but all of her. Her intelligence was captivating, showcasing a thirst for knowledge and an inquisitive mind. Her humor was infectious, capable of lighting up even the darkest moments with her contagious laughter. Wit came naturally to her, and her quick retorts never failed to catch him off guard and leave him smiling. She was a true artist, her fashion designs innovative and chic and a little wild. But what truly stole his heart was her loyalty, the unwavering support she offered her family and friends, including Alex. Her kindness knew no bounds, and she had an innate ability to see the good in people, even when they faltered. With Leslie, he felt a sense of belonging, a deep connection that made him feel whole instead of hollow—the way he felt most of the time.

He was just damn good at hiding it.

He didn’t want to let his connection to Leslie go, despite his resolve not to completely make her his. Which was why, now that they’d gotten past some difficult moments and she’d agreed to remain friends, he was thankful. He’d always regret not being able to claim all of her, the way a lover or husband would, but at least he’d still be able to enjoy the light of her friendship on occasion.

You shouldn’t even allow yourself that.

You don’t deserve it, and being in her life, in anyone’ s life, even platonically puts them at risk.

You’re selfish. Weak.

Dangerous.

Alex battled against the familiar inner voice that taunted him constantly.

“I can hear you thinking,” Leslie suddenly said. Her eyes opened, the light green of her irises captivating him, and held steady. “Good morning, gorgeous,” she murmured.