Chapter 16 Sloane #4
Dominic pulls back, licking my essence off of his lips before pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. I wiggle my hips, trying to get his mouth back where I need it, and he flashes me a devious grin. “Relax, angel.”
On his last word, he sinks one long, thick finger into me.
The look he gives me is scorching hot as he pulls it out and slides it back in accompanied by another.
His fingers are huge and brutal in their intrusion.
There’s a bite of pain as he pushes deep inside me, stretching me out.
It’s the most action I’ve had with another person in years, so it takes me a second to adjust. My nails dig into his shoulder.
“Dominic…oh God. Dominic.”
“It’s okay, angel. I’ve got you.” He plants a soft kiss to my cleft. “Just relax.”
I push out air through my nose and try to follow his instructions.
Dominic dips his head down again and gives me a long lick with the flat of his tongue before circling my clit with his lips.
Sucking gently and rhythmically while his tongue flutters over the engorged bundle of nerves with a relentless hunger.
Everything in my core starts to tighten.
I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on the orgasm that’s hovering just out of my reach, spurred on by the exquisite fullness his fingers provide when my walls clamp down on them.
Pleasure ripples through me when his fingers finally start to move inside of me.
Slow glides that have my hips churning, pumping into his mouth with reckless abandon while the open flame inside of me turns into a full-blown inferno.
My orgasm is so close I can almost taste it, and every word from my lips is a plea.
More. Harder. Deeper. Faster. Please, Dominic.
Please. It’s like my voice belongs to someone else.
A mindless woman who’s desperate for the brutal ferocity of the fingers spearing me, the wicked tongue lashing at my clit and lapping up my juices like liquid honey rushing out of me.
Dominic pushes in deeper, curling his fingers back so they massage the ridges along the front of my walls with every stroke.
“I’m close. Oh god. I’m so close.”
“Let me have it, Sloane.”
I’m all sensation. Lost to everything but the deep, hot pressure at my core, building and building until finally—with a vicious flick of his tongue—I break apart.
The orgasm washes over me in fiery waves and I cry out, my legs growing weak as warmth spreads through my entire body.
Dominic supports my weight with his shoulders, using his tongue and fingers to prolong my pleasure.
When the final tremor fades, he pulls back, and his beard is soaked from my orgasm.
He licks his lips. “So much better than my dreams, angel.”
Slowly, he places my foot back on the ground and withdraws from me.
The little “pop” his fingertips make as they leave my entrance is the only sound in the house.
Dominic says something else, but I don’t hear it because I’m too busy conducting a silent examination of my mental state.
There’s no lump in my throat or tears pricking my eyes, and only an infinitesimal amount of guilt and shame clawing at my chest.
So far, so good.
Dominic stands up slowly, studying my face with thoughtful eyes that have just a hint of wariness in them.
It takes a moment for me to notice he’s not touching me anymore.
His body is still close enough that his scent floods my senses and his heat bleeds into my damp skin, but his hands are at his sides.
“Tell me you’re okay,” he orders quietly.
“I’m okay.”
My legs are a bit wobbly, and both of my breasts are a little cold after being trussed up over my bra and exposed to the air for so long, but I’m delighted to find the words aren’t a lie.
He gives me one more second before he reaches for me, pulling me into his body with enough force to elicit a sharp gasp from me.
Mainly because it presses me right into his erection.
“If you’re not, you have to tell me. I know this isn’t easy for you, but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Can I ask you a question?”
His fingers skate over my skin, drifting up my back to unhook my bra. “What is it?”
I almost forget what I want to say when his thumbs brush over my nipples. My skin is so sensitive. Still a little raw from being nuzzled and suckled by his busy mouth. “What happened to tying me down?”
He brushes a damp tendril from my temple and smiles. “Maybe next time. Right now, I want to get you to bed.”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, delighted at the idea of having Dominic in my bed. “Maybe I can take care of this for you.” I palm his dick in my hand and squeeze lightly. Emboldened by the flare of heat in his eyes, I move my hand up and down, stroking him through the denim of his jeans.
“Sloane,” Dominic rasps, stilling the movement with his hand.
I blink up at him, confused. He’s been hard all night and has already forfeited his pleasure to tend to my needs. I would have never pegged him for a selfless lover, and I want—no, need—to return the favor. Why would he stop me from doing that?
“Because,” Dominic says roughly, answering my unspoken question. “You’re fine right now, but the last thing I’m going to do is fuck this up by pushing you too hard tonight. I’m going to take you upstairs, put you in the shower, and then the bed—”
I frown. The idea of going to bed without him bothers me a lot more than it should at this early stage in our…whatever the hell this is. Dominic continues, reading me like a book. “Where you’re going to let me hold you in my arms until we both fall asleep.”
I’m not even disturbed by how easily he reads my expression.
He’s spent more than a decade annoying the life out of me, and I know from experience that knowing how to push someone’s buttons comes with the ability to see right through them.
To read their minds through facial expressions and body language alone.
Dominic has that ability, because he’s just addressed all of my concerns without me having to breathe a word.
The thing he doesn’t realize is, I have the same set of skills, and they only apply to him.
Which is how I know that no matter what his mouth is saying, his body is telling a different story.
Blown pupils. Tense shoulders. Raging hard-on that’s straining against the seam of his zipper.
Molten eyes that blaze with lust for me.
I bite my lip. Caught between the need to push him on this so I can show him how much I want him and the postorgasmic exhaustion seeping into my bones.
Dominic leans down to kiss my lips just as a traitorous yawn tries to escape. I stifle it, but he still sees and kisses me anyway. “You’re tired, Sloane.”
I arch a brow. “I’m not that tired, Dominic.”
And I’m not. I can rally. I can splash some water on my face and give some pleasure to the man who has given me more than he could ever know.
I can… Another yawn breaks free, and Dominic gives me a laugh that tells me I can take my ass to bed and enjoy some much-needed, but not truly deserved, postcoital cuddles.
“Sleep, angel. That’s the only thing happening in your bed tonight.”
Then he’s lifting me into his arms, cradling me to his chest as he heads up the stairs.
When we hit the landing on the second floor, he heads straight for my closed bedroom door.
He carries me across the threshold and into the adjoining bathroom before setting me on the double vanity.
Before I can blink, he’s kneeling in front of me again.
Pulling my heels off and massaging my feet one at a time. My head dips back.
“That feels nice.” I don’t mean for it to sound sexual, but it comes out as a moan.
Dominic’s gaze flicks to mine. “Behave.” He smacks my sole lightly before starting again, working out the tension with practiced movements that make me wonder where he learned the skill.
Jealousy pricks at my skin like a thousand tiny needles at the thought of him doing this for someone else—namely a certain catty ex-girlfriend who doesn’t want to accept that things are over between them.
Don’t think about her right now. Feeling jealous of Dominic’s time with Kristen is ridiculous.
When they were together, I was determined to be alone forever and the possibility of me with anyone—let alone Dominic—didn’t exist. And none of that would have changed if it wasn’t for that night at Club Noir.
“Alright, up you go.” He grasps my hands in his and tugs me off of the vanity so I’m standing in front of him.
Awfully bossy for a man on his knees.
“Isn’t the person on their knees usually the one taking orders?”
“Is that something you want, angel?” He cocks a brow at me while his hands are busy unhooking the straps of my garter belt. “Me on my knees, taking orders from you?”
The idea of bossing this impossible man around brings a smile to my face, but I don’t know how satisfying it would be in the moment.
I would probably spend the whole time in my head, worrying about looking and sounding silly, instead of enjoying having him at my beck and call.
I run my hand over his hair just because I can.
“One day, maybe. Right now, the only thing I truly want is for you to take your clothes off. You’ve seen every inch of me, and all I’ve seen of you are your forearms.”
My statement is punctuated by the removal of the last lace cuff around my thigh.
Standing there fully naked, I arch a brow and Dominic smirks at me before standing up.
He’s so tall. Without my heels, I feel small and feminine beside him.
Without my clothes on, I feel exposed and vulnerable, especially when my nakedness forces me to acknowledge that he’s remained fully dressed.
Again.