8. Caterina
EIGHT
Caterina
T he ballroom is a sea of tailored suits and designer gowns with laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. I can feel the power as it vibrates through the room. Dominic’s hand remains on my waist, his touch deceptively possessive as he guides me through the crowd.
A group of men approach us, the way they carry themselves, exuding the wealth and danger they are known for. This event might be hosted by the mayor but his guests are all criminals in one way or another.
When Dominic introduces me, I give them my most charming smile and exchange polite words when spoken to. It’s a dance I know well: the art of appearing composed even when everything inside of me is falling apart.
As the night drags on, I sip champagne, nod at the right moments, and laugh when expected. I feel Dominic’s eyes on me more than once; like he’s waiting for me to slip up, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.
He’s across the other side of the room when I return from the bathroom and swipe a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. I tilt the glass toward him before lifting it to my mouth. His eyes narrow and he straightens, watching something just behind me.
I don’t have time to turn, let alone react, before an unwelcome hand brushes against my lower back before gripping my hip. The touch is possessive and entitled. I tense, unable to do anything but look at Dominic as he strides across the room, a darkness etched into his features.
“You’re even more beautiful up close, but it does beg the question of how he got you,” a voice murmurs against my ear, thick with arrogance and slurred by alcohol.
A blur of movement knocks me back; my glass falling to the floor and shattering. I stumble out of the way just as Dominic slams the man onto a nearby table. Plates and silverware clatter to the floor, the sound mingling with the horrified gasps and muffled laughter of guests.
Dominic stands over him, his shoulders lifting with every heaving breath he draws in. Slowly, he reaches under his tuxedo jacket and takes out his gun, pressing the muzzle against the man’s forehead. “You think you can put your hands on my wife without facing the consequences?”
“I was giving her a compliment,” the man whimpers, his wide eyes seeking me out.
Dominic exhales, a sick and twisted smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he follows the man's line of sight to me. “You think she’ll save you?”
The safety clicks off. My breath is locked in my throat and I can’t look away. Dominic shifts his gun, pressing it into the hand that touched me where it’s splayed out on the white linen. A deafening crack splits the air, and the man screams out in agony as blood, flesh and bone splatter onto the pristine cloth.
Dominic flexes his finger over the trigger as he lifts the gun to the man’s temple. “That was justice,” he murmurs. “This is mercy.” He pulls on the trigger, another shot ringing out and the man's lifeless body slumps to the floor. Dominic grabs my hand, pulling me from the room toward the back of the venue.
My eyes remain locked on his back, adrenaline coursing through my body. I should be horrified, disgusted even. But all I feel is something raw and untameable tightening in my chest, drawn to his darkness and begging to be unleashed.
The cold night air hits me, but it does little to cool my heated body. A few feet ahead of us, the car idles. Dominic holds the door open for me to slide in. When he gets in beside me, his posture is relaxed, as if he didn’t just put two bullets into a man without a second thought.
As the car pulls away, the interior grows dark, leaving behind the destruction we’ve caused. I can feel Dominic’s energy as it rolls off of him. His breathing is heavy and when his eyes flick to my lips, I know that we’re past the point of no return. We move as one, closing the gap between us, our mouths colliding and our fingers grabbing at our clothes.
He lifts me onto his lap, an urgency to our movements as our labored breaths fill the space and our tongues tangle. I pull at his shirt, uncaring as the buttons fly. His fingers find the zipper of my dress and tugs it down before he fists the material and rips it the rest of the way.
Gasping for air, I sit back, the remnants of my dress pooling between us as I stare at him. It’s warm in the car, but the heat emanating from our bodies is scorching. The wild beast inside of him no doubt mirrors mine. In this moment, we can call a truce, put aside all of our hatred, and feast on each other.
Dominic wraps a hand around my throat, squeezing before pulling me closer and capturing my mouth with his. I should push him away, but I don’t. Instead, I move against him, every thought melting, until there’s nothing left but the feel of him. I reach for his belt buckle, fumbling with the clasp as I desperately try to free him. He releases my throat, moving his hand to cup my bare breast while he trails his mouth across my chest to suck on the other. His teeth graze the sensitive bud of my nipple and he hisses out a breath of cold air over it when I pull his cock out.
I shift forward, desperate to feel him, to have him ease the ache in my core that’s threatening to consume me.
Lining his cock up with my entrance, I slowly sink down onto him. My pussy stretches to accommodate him and my eyes flutter closed. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from calling out.
When he’s fully seated inside of me, Dominic leans forward, his teeth grazing my collarbone. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock, Caterina.”
I can’t speak or tell him how good he feels inside of me. God. I’m so close to coming undone. The size of him is perfect and although he fills me to the point of pain, the pleasure his cock promises washes away any worry. I rock my hips as his hands explore my body.
All too soon, my walls clench and a fluttering starts in the pit of my stomach. Whimpers fall from my lips and I struggle to keep up the rhythm as I ride his length. His grunts fill the space, his hips slamming up into me as he races toward his release. Our cries of ecstasy swirl in the air, mingling together and coating us in a calmness that I haven’t felt in years. His fingers dig into my hips as he holds me still, gasping for breath as he comes inside of me. Fascinated, I watch his face as he comes undone before collapsing against him, my body limp and languid.
I should hate what we’ve just done. I should hate him . But the dark, twisted truth is that right now, I can’t. And that terrifies me more than anything.
To be continued…
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