Cassandra #2
I’m not surprised to find it just as grand as the rest of the house.
A stone shower with multiple showerheads is recessed behind the water closet.
I can’t wait to try the rain feature. There’s a double vanity that includes a lower counter where I can place a chair and set up my makeup.
Near the windows is the highlight of the room—a deep Jacuzzi tub with an array of soaps and towels sitting on the edge.
Quirking my lips at the side, I venture over, picking up one of the bottles. It’s an orange honey scent, one of my favorites from Il Palazzo’s boutique.
“I thought we could try out the tub.” Dominic grabs my waist and pulls me toward him so that my back presses against his front. Even through my heavy skirts, I can feel the rigid line of his growing erection.
I hum, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I may need help getting out of this dress.”
His chest rises with his responding chuckle. “I think I can help with that.”
Allowing for a sliver of space between us, Dominic reaches for the buttons lining the back of my gown, flicking each open at an excruciating pace.
I wiggle my hips, growing impatient. “You don’t need to be careful with them. The dress is already ruined.”
He traces a finger across my exposed skin. “No bra?”
“It’s a corset top.” My flirty tone earns a growl from him.
I’ve pushed him to his limit. The next thing I know, he’s gripping the open sides of my dress and yanking them apart. The remaining buttons pop out of place.
The dress drops to the floor, and I step out. Wearing only a pair of white lacy panties, thigh-high stockings, and a garter, I turn to face Dominic. He drinks me in, eyes darkening with lust.
“If I knew that’s what was under your dress, we would have left the reception sooner.”
I laugh as he rips off his jacket and makes quick work of his shirt. While he scrambles to undress, I go to the tub, turn on the water, and let it heat.
Once his shoes, pants, and boxers are off, Dominic is back by my side, running his hands over every inch of my flesh.
“I think I was supposed to take this off with my teeth,” he says, flicking the garter.
“You still can,” I tease, popping my knee to show off the leg the accessory adorns.
Breathing hard, Dominic drops to his knees, fingers grazing over my hips. “So fucking beautiful,” he mutters. “I’m the luckiest fucker alive.”
He leans in, biting the garter and running it down my leg. At my ankle, he releases it and uses his hand to pull it past the still blood-covered bottom of my foot.
“We should get you cleaned up,” he says, standing and tossing the garter to the vanity.
“You’re not much better.” I trace my finger along the dots of crimson covering his neck.
I work to remove my stockings and panties as Dominic checks the water temperature. Deeming it acceptable, he holds out his hand to help me in. I sink into the warm bath, staying in the middle of the tub to give him room behind me.
Once settled, he pours the orange honey bubble bath in the water and presses a button to start the jets.
I lean back against his chest as the water and bubbles swirl around my body. Dominic’s hands roam, starting on my stomach and running down my thighs. He massages the muscle there, adding to my relaxation.
Sighing, I rest my head on his shoulder. “This is wonderful.”
“Hand me one of the small towels,” he says, indicating the stack near the faucet.
Dominic adds body wash and spreads it across the terrycloth. “Lift your arms.”
I do as directed, humming when he rubs the soap over my limbs, cleaning any remnants of the night off my body.
“Legs,” he demands next.
Once he’s thoroughly scrubbed each inch of me, I decide it’s my turn. Spinning to face him, I hold my hand out for the washcloth.
“You’re dirty, too,” I say, earning a chuckle.
“Yes, I am.” He cocks a brow. “How dirty do you want me to be?”
I swat at his chest, my face flushing. Even after all this time, Dominic’s dirty talk and sexual demands have heat rushing through me.
I stroke the cloth across his neck and chest, then move to his shoulders and arms. I pay close attention to his biceps, squeezing the thick muscles. He flexes in response, a smirk gracing his lips.
Next are his legs, which I have to scoot back in the tub to reach. I purposely avoid his hips and groin. I have plans for that area when I’m done.
Once I’ve finished with his calves, he reaches for me, his gaze heated and fixed on my exposed breasts.
“I’m clean enough,” he announces, ripping the cloth from my hand and dropping it on the tub’s edge. “Come here.”
I straddle his legs but keep my center away from his hardened cock.
“Cassandra,” he warns.
“Patience.” I raise a brow, repeating his word from earlier.
With a seductive smile, I grab the body wash and pour some in my palm. I rub it between my hands, then reach under the water, holding his member and stroking.
He groans, his head tilting back. “Jesus Christ.”
I grip him firmly with both hands as I continue to work his cock, up and down, curling over the top to pay attention to the sensitive head.
As his hips begin to rock, I move one hand to cradle his balls, making him curse and take a bruising hold on my waist.
“Enough,” he snaps, eyes meeting mine, the look on his face feral. “I need to fuck you, Cassandra.”
I begin to move into place over him, but he stops me.
“No. The first time I have you as my wife is going to be in our marital bed.”
I tuck my lip between my teeth, my smile breaking free on either side.
Dominic pulls me to my feet as he stands and turns off the jets. Not bothering to drain the tub, he wraps a plush towel around me, drying me and then himself.
The towel falls to the floor, and he grips my ass, lifting until I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist. He holds me up with one hand and wraps the fingers of the other in my hair, tightening them into a fist. He guides my mouth to his, locking us in a kiss while he walks from the bathroom toward our bed.
I bounce when he tosses me to the mattress, feeling like a rag doll at the mercy of his strength. He settles over me as I cradle him between my legs, more than ready to consummate our union.
Gazing into my eyes, Dominic strokes my cheeks and whispers a reverent, “I love you.”
My own confession of love slips between my lips before he pushes inside me, filling my body inch by inch.
My breath comes deep and hard, in rhythm with our movements.
Where Dominic is usually fast and rough, tonight he’s slow and gentle, making love to me as his wife.
“God, Cassandra,” he whispers in my ear. “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive.”
He lifts onto an elbow, reaching with his other hand to wrap his fingers in my hair. We lock eyes, the air from our lungs intermingling, as we climb high toward release.
It’s me who falls first, clutching Dominic’s shoulders, holding him as close as possible. The crescendo builds, the intensity unmatched. When I tip over the edge, it feels like the stars and the moon have all collided into an eclectic shock of ecstasy.
Dominic follows close behind, a groan of pleasure breaking from his chest as his head drops to the crease of my neck and he pants against my skin.
“Good God,” he says after a minute of recovery. “That was intense.”
“That was us,” I respond, kissing his cheek. “Our connection coming to life.”
He answers with a tired smile and wraps me under his arm.
I lie on Dominic’s chest, drifting off to sleep and dreaming of our future—the life we will create together.
Nothing will tear us apart.