Chapter Four #2
Maya startled, turning toward his voice. When she spotted him on his balcony, her cheeks flushed pink even in the moonlight, and his body responded to that innocent reaction.
"Too much on my mind," she admitted.
"Want to talk about it?"
Dom watched her hesitate, could practically see her internal debate. The professional photographer who should keep her distance warring with the woman who'd come apart in his hands just hours ago. The woman who'd admitted she needed him to be in control.
"I could ask you the same question," she said finally. "You look like you've had better days."
Dom laughed, but there was no humor in it.
The understatement of the century. His career was imploding, brands were dropping him left and right, and he'd just turned down the kind of no-strings encounter that used to be his specialty because he couldn't stop thinking about the woman standing twenty feet away.
"That's one way to put it." He raised his glass in a mock toast. "To career suicide and the beautiful women who witness it."
"Dom..." Maya's voice was soft, concerned in a way that made his chest tighten with unfamiliar emotion.
"Don't give me your pity. I get enough of that from my agent."
He watched Maya's spine straighten, saw the flash of temper in her eyes that reminded him of her strength beneath the submission. "I wasn't offering pity. I was offering to listen."
"Why? Because we fucked around?"
The crude words hung between them, and Dom immediately regretted them. He was lashing out, trying to push her away. It was a defensive mechanism he'd perfected over the years, but using it on Maya felt wrong. She deserved better than his damage.
"Because," Maya said quietly, "I know the difference between the man you pretend to be and the man you actually are."
"And which man am I tonight?"
"The one who's scared," Maya said simply. "The one who's fighting so hard to maintain control that he's pushing away anyone who might actually give a damn about him."
The words hit closer to home than Dom wanted to admit. He drained his whiskey and set the glass aside, gripping the balcony railing until his knuckles went white. She was right, and that terrified him. He was used to people wanting the image, the reputation, the fantasy of being with a supermodel.
"I just turned down a gorgeous woman who was practically throwing herself at me. A week ago, I would have had her bent over my couch within ten minutes. But tonight?" He laughed bitterly. "Tonight, I couldn't even summon the interest."
"Why?" The moonlight caught the vulnerability in her expression. The same vulnerability he'd seen when she'd trusted him enough to surrender control.
"Because all I could think about was you. The way you taste, the way you feel. The way you look at me."
Maya's lips parted and her grip tightened on her wine glass. The confession hung between them, more honest than he'd intended to be.
"I'm thirty-two years old, Maya. I've been sleeping with women since I was seventeen, and I've never once had trouble moving from one to the next.
It's part of who I am—the playboy who doesn't get attached, who takes what he wants and moves on.
" Dom's voice dropped. "So tell me, what the fuck have you done to me? "
The question came out bleaker than he'd intended, loaded with accusations and confessions in equal measure. Dom watched Maya process his words, saw her understanding their implications. He was admitting weakness, admitting that she'd gotten under his skin in a way no woman ever had.
"What ever it is," she said finally. "you’ve done the same to me.”
She shouldn’t have told him that. Now, he wasn’t ever going to let her go.
"Come over here," Dom demanded.
Maya blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. Come over here. Right now."
He saw the moment she recognized the shift in his voice, the way her body responded to his dominance even as her mind tried to resist.
"Dom..."
"Maya." His voice was low, dangerous. "Come. Here."
For a moment, she simply stared at him. Then, without a word, she disappeared into her suite.
A few moments later a knock came at his door. His body stiffened with anticipation and satisfaction that she'd chosen to come to him despite every rational reason to stay away.
Maya’s silk pajamas left little to the imagination. Satisfaction settled through him. She'd responded to his command, had trusted him enough to come when he called. It was a heady feeling.
"This is crazy," Maya said.
"I know." Dom pulled her into his suite and shut the door behind her. "Are you going to change your mind?"
"Are you going to give me a reason to?"
He saw the pulse hammering at her throat, smelled the subtle scent of her arousal mixed with her perfume. "Probably."
Leaning down, he captured her mouth. This was possession, pure and simple. His hands fisted in her hair, angling her head so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to claim and conquer.
Maya melted against him immediately, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she kissed him back with equal hunger.
Dom tasted the wine on her lips, felt the way her body trembled against his.
The response sent fire through his veins, confirming what he'd known since that first moment he saw her in Milan—Maya Sunderly was his.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard.
"Tell me to stop," Dom said, his voice rough with need and challenge.
"No."
"Tell me this is a bad idea."
"It is." Maya's hands were already moving to the towel around his waist, her fingers trembling slightly. "The worst idea I've ever had."
"Then why aren't you walking away?"
"Because I can't. Because whatever this is, I need it as much as you do."
Dom's control snapped. He lifted Maya up and she wrapped her legs around him. He pressed her back against the door as he settled in between her legs. Maya wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer instead of protesting.
"I want you so much," Dom groaned against her throat, drinking in her scent.
He pulled off her top and his mouth went dry at the sight of her breasts. Her nipples peaked in responsive to his hungry gaze.
"Beautiful," he murmured, his hands covering her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they peaked for him. "So fucking beautiful."
Maya arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips that went straight to his cock. Dom was already hard and the need to pull down her bottoms and plunge inside her was strong. Instead, he forced himself to go slow, to savor this moment of having her exactly where he wanted her.
"I need you," Maya gasped as Dom's mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue working her until she was writhing in his arms.
"Not yet," Dom said, lifting his head to look at her.
The sight of her—flushed and wanting, her lips swollen from his kisses, completely at his mercy—sent a rush of possessive satisfaction through him.
"First, you're going to come for me again. I want to see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart. I’m going to finger you and then I’m going to fuck you. "
Maya lifted her hips so he could strip away the silk barrier between them, trusting him completely despite the risk of discovery.
Dom's hands were reverent as they explored her body, mapping every curve and sensitive spot. When his fingers touched her center, she was already slick and ready for him, Maya bit back a cry at the contact.
"Don't hold back," Dom said. "I want to hear every sound you make."
He flicked his fingers over her clit, loving the wet sounds her arousal made. Dom watched every expression that crossed Maya's face, cataloging what made her gasp, what made her arch against him, what drove her closest to the edge.
"That's it," Dom encouraged. "Come for me."
When Dom began to fuck her with his fingers, Maya cried out and shook.
"Perfect," he murmured. "You're perfect."
He worked her with single-minded focus, his thumb rubbing her clit as his fingers moved inside her with devastating skill.
"Dom, I'm going to—"
"I know," Dom said, his mouth moving to her throat where he felt her pulse racing.
Maya shattered, her orgasm crashing through them both with an intensity that left her gasping and shaking in his arms. Dom worked her through it, his touch gentling as she came down from the peak, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Mine," he said simply, and his tone made it clear this wasn't a request or a question. It was a statement of fact.
Maya stared at him, and Dom saw her processing the implications of his declaration. He was staking his claim, making it clear that whatever this was between them, she belonged to him now. It should have been too much, too fast, too possessive for a woman he'd known for less than two days.
Instead, she nodded.
"Yours," she whispered, and the word sent a jolt of pure satisfaction through Dom's chest.
Dom carried her toward his bedroom. "Good girl," he murmured against her ear. "Now let me show you what that means."
Dom set Maya down beside the bed, his hands already working to remove what remained of her pajamas. When she stood naked before him in the moonlight, he took a step back to appreciate the view.
Maya started to cross her arms over her breasts, some instinct toward modesty asserting itself, but Dom captured her wrists.
"Don't," he said firmly. "Don't hide from me. I want to see all of you."
She let her arms fall to her sides.
"Exquisite," Dom said. "Absolutely exquisite."
He moved to his dresser, pulling out a length of black silk that made Maya's giggle nervously.
"Have you ever been tied up before?" The silk slid through his fingers like water.
She shook her head. "No."
"Do you want to be?"
"Yes," she said.
The responsibility of that trust wasn't lost on him. He'd introduced countless women to various aspects of dominance and submission, but teaching this to Maya felt new and exciting.
"Hold out your hands," he commanded.