Chapter 7 #3
I climb a few steps, adjusting a section where the lights seem bunched too closely together.
The house is silent except for the occasional creak of settling wood and distant hum of the heating system.
It's peaceful, almost meditative, as I lose myself in the small adjustments that most people would never notice but make all the difference to my critical eye.
"Even more beautiful at night," comes Dominic's voice from behind me, startling me so badly I nearly lose my balance on the step.
I turn to find him at the bottom of the staircase, watching me with that intense gaze that seems to see straight through to my core.
He's changed from his earlier attire into black lounge pants and a thin gray t-shirt that clings to his muscled chest. I've never seen him dressed so casually, and somehow it makes him more intimidating rather than less—this glimpse of the private man beneath the powerful executive.
"I thought you were taking a call with Tokyo," I say, my hand instinctively moving to my throat where I know he's left marks despite my protests about professionalism.
"Finished early." He begins climbing the stairs toward me, his movements unhurried but purposeful. "When I found my bed empty, I had to investigate."
I gesture to the garland. "Just making some final adjustments. The lighting sequence needed tweaking."
He reaches the step below mine, bringing us eye to eye. "Always the perfectionist. Another quality we share."
His proximity makes my heart race despite the hours we just spent together. There's something about Dominic Sterling that keeps me perpetually off-balance, perpetually aware.
"I was about to head back up," I tell him, though we both know I'm not talking about returning to his suite.
"Were you?" He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear in that gesture that's become so familiar. "Or were you avoiding me?"
I frown. "Why would I be avoiding you? I just spent three hours in your bed."
A slow smile spreads across his face. "And yet you slipped away the moment I stepped into the shower." His finger traces the outline of my jaw. "Almost as if you needed space to remember who you are outside of what we create together."
His perception is unnerving. That's exactly what I was doing—trying to reclaim some sense of myself, my purpose here beyond being Dominic's lover.
"Is that so wrong?" I ask quietly.
"Not wrong," he concedes, his hand sliding to cup the nape of my neck. "Unnecessary. I know exactly who you are, Holly. Better, perhaps, than you know yourself."
Before I can form a response, he closes the distance between us, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that's surprisingly gentle given the possessiveness of his words. I respond without thinking, my body already conditioned to his touch after just a few days together.
"Beautiful work," he murmurs against my lips when he finally breaks the kiss, though his eyes remain on me rather than the garland. "Worth every penny I'm paying you."
"Just the decorations, or me as well?" The words slip out before I can censor them, revealing an insecurity I didn't intend to share.
Instead of being offended, he laughs—a genuine sound I've rarely heard from him.
"Fishing for compliments, Holly? That's beneath you.
" His hand slides down to the small of my back, pulling me closer.
"But if you need reassurance of your value beyond your professional skills, I'm happy to demonstrate. Right here. Right now."
My eyes widen as his meaning becomes clear. "We can't—this is the main staircase!"
"Everyone's gone for the night," he reminds me, his mouth moving to my neck, finding the sensitive spot just below my ear that he discovered earlier. "And it's my house. We can do whatever I want, wherever I want."
The echo of his words from this afternoon sends a shiver through me. His hand is already sliding beneath my sweater, warm palm against the bare skin of my back.
"Someone could come in," I protest weakly, even as I tilt my head to give him better access.
"Adds to the excitement, doesn't it?" His teeth graze my earlobe, drawing a gasp from me. "The risk of discovery. The thrill of being seen as mine."
His hand moves around to my ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of my breast through my bra. "Tell me to stop," he challenges softly. "Tell me you don't want this—want me—right here where anyone could walk in and see us."
I should say exactly that. Should maintain some shred of professional dignity. Instead, I find myself pressing closer to him, my body betraying my mind's hesitation.
"I thought so," he murmurs, satisfaction evident in his voice as he feels my surrender. "Turn around, Holly. Face the banister."
The commanding tone sends a jolt of arousal through me that I'm still not entirely comfortable with but can't deny.
I obey, turning to face the garland-wrapped railing, my back to his chest. Immediately his arms wrap around me from behind, one hand continuing its exploration beneath my sweater while the other slides lower, finding the hem of my skirt.
"Do you know what I thought about all day after our encounter this afternoon?" he asks, his voice a low rumble against my ear as his hand slips beneath my skirt, trailing up my thigh. "How you would look, bent over this very railing, illuminated by the lights you so carefully arranged."
His words paint an image so erotic I can barely breathe. His fingers find the edge of my panties, teasing but not yet breaching that final barrier.
"The contrast of your pale skin against the dark wood," he continues, his other hand now cupping my breast fully, thumb circling my nipple through the lace of my bra. "The way these lights would cast patterns across your body as I take you."
"Dominic," I gasp as his fingers finally slip beneath the silk of my underwear, finding me already embarrassingly ready for him. "We shouldn't—"
"We absolutely should," he contradicts, his skilled fingers drawing a moan from me that echoes in the empty foyer. "In fact, we must. I've thought of nothing else since I left you here this afternoon."
Any further protest dies on my lips as he increases the pressure, the rhythm, his other hand now unfastening my bra beneath my sweater to access bare skin. I grip the banister for support as my knees weaken, the garland lights blurring before my eyes as pleasure builds with shocking speed.
The sound of a door closing somewhere in the distance freezes us both. Dominic's hands still, though he doesn't remove them from my body.
"Just the night security patrol," he whispers against my ear after a moment. "They won't come this way for at least ten minutes." His fingers resume their motion, more insistent now. "Which means we need to be efficient."
The risk of discovery should dampen my arousal. Instead, it heightens every sensation as Dominic's talented hands push me toward climax with deliberate precision. I bite my lip to keep from crying out as waves of pleasure crash through me, my body trembling in his firm hold.
Before I've fully recovered, he turns me to face him, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss that's both triumphant and possessive. "Now," he murmurs against my lips, "we go back to my suite where I can take my time with you properly."
He straightens my clothing with surprising tenderness, his fingers lingering on each adjustment. When he's satisfied with my appearance, he takes my hand, leading me up the staircase toward his rooms.
"The garland looks perfect," he says casually, as if we didn't just engage in an intensely intimate act in the main hall of his mansion. "You've truly transformed this house, Holly."
As we reach the top of the stairs, he pulls me closer, his arm slipping around my waist. "And you've transformed me as well," he adds so quietly I almost miss it.
The admission, so at odds with his usual confidence, stays with me long after we return to his suite, long after he's claimed me again with the thoroughness he promised.