Chapter 18
18
DOMINIC
“Please, Dom,” Shiloh gasps against my lips. “I want you to fuck me.”
The sound of her breathless plea sends a bolt of pure lightning through my body. My cock throbs painfully in my slacks as she grinds her hips into me again. I've never felt more powerful, or more alive than I do hearing those words fall from her lips.
I scoop her up into my arms, more than happy to give her exactly what she wants. She's so light I can’t help but think about how fragile she is, warm and boneless against my chest. I stride purposefully back through the maze of bookshelves, looking for a convenient place to ruin her. The space soon opens up into a vacant reading area, an empty table in the center. It looks like sturdy oak, probably as old as this godforsaken manor.
I will enjoy defiling it.
I lay Shiloh down, relishing the way she immediately gasps at the edge of the wood. Her arms are still trapped at her sides by her bunched-up clothes, as if she’s a gift I only bothered to partially unwrap in my rush to claim her. She spreads her legs without bothering to say another word, a silent invitation I'm ready to take full advantage of.
The rush of victory is so intense, I have to pause for a moment. My balls are already tightening, ready to blow my load right into my pants... But I refuse to let this end too quickly. I’m going to savor every fucking second. She asked for it this time, and I need to hear it again.
I free my aching cock from my slacks, hissing at the sensation as cool air hits burning flesh. I pump it leisurely, once, twice, three times, watching Shiloh's hungry eyes follow the movement. Her tongue darts out to wet her rosy lips and the sight is almost my total defeat.
Determined to draw this out, I drag the head of my cock against her entrance with tortuous slowness. Her panties are still bunched to the side, forcing her pussy lips to pucker for me. Shiloh moans with obvious frustration, her hips lifting off the table in a desperate bid for more.
“Don't tease me,” she whimpers, fingers clenching and unclenching over the wood beneath her.
I smirk, basking in her newfound desperation. “Beg for it again,” I command. “Tell me exactly what you want, little sis.”
Shiloh's bright eyes flash with something I can’t quite identify–defiance, maybe, or shame–but it's quickly overwhelmed by powerful lust. “Please,” she whines. “I need you inside me, Dom. Fuck me hard.”
A satisfied growl tears from my throat as I finally, finally sink into her tight heat. The sensation is indescribable, like the most addictive drug I’d hit again and again even if it threatened to kill me. Her sweet cunt envelops me like a glove. I pull out of her completely just to relive the feeling of plunging back in all over again. Soon enough, I can’t hold back any longer, I begin pounding into her hips at a punishing pace that has us both groaning raggedly.
The table creaks dangerously beneath her, the legs wobbling with each powerful thrust I drive into her hips. Shiloh drops her head back as her moans fill the cavernous room, echoing off the high ceiling and row after row of dusty tomes. I find myself secretly hoping someone will stumble upon us. Let them see that I’ve won, and how fucking thoroughly I'm claiming my prize.
I hook my hands under Shiloh's knees and push them up to her chest. The new angle lets me sink even deeper, and my eyes almost fall closed at the feeling of her clenching around me. However, I don’t want to lose sight of her face. I want to watch every moment of what this is doing to her. I want to fuck her so ravenously she'll feel me for days, weeks even. I want her to think of nothing but this moment every time she tries to sit down.
When I’m dangerously close to spilling inside her, I reach between us to stroke over her clit with my thumb. Shiloh's eyes fly open again, her desperate gaze finding mine as I drag every last ounce of pleasure out of her.
“Come for me, baby,” I demand. “I want to watch you fall apart.”
I drink in every detail of her face as she shatters beneath me. The flutter of her eyelashes when her eyes roll back, the deepening flush in her cheeks as she stops breathing for a moment, the way her lips fall open on a silent cry have me in complete and total awe.
Having a front row seat to her orgasm is nothing short of transcendent. My heart clenches in my chest while her pussy clenches on my dick. A surge of possessive pride mingles with something deeper, more dangerous–something that I don’t care to name. Before I can examine the feeling too closely, my own release crashes into me. I bury myself as deep as I can, filling Shiloh with pulse after pulse of hot cum.
For a few triumphant moments, the only sound within these walls is our ragged breathing. I allow myself a handful of seconds to admire the rise and fall of Shiloh's naked breasts before I pull out of her, eager to see the evidence I’ve left behind.
My cum seeps from her puffy, blushing cunt, and the sight nearly makes me hard all over again. I swipe through the mess with my fingers before pushing it back inside her and tugging the fabric of her panties back into place. “I want you full of me always,” I murmur, though it’s more to myself than to her.
If she hears me, Shiloh doesn't respond. She just lies still, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed expression while I gently lower her knees back to the table. I tuck myself back into my slacks, admiring the view for as long as she’ll let me.
When I return from retrieving her cardigan around the corner, she still hasn't moved, and I have to stifle a low chuckle. She looks thoroughly fucked, and the animalistic part of my soul preens at the knowledge I'm the one who reduced her to this state.
I help her sit up slowly, carefully righting her clothes until her chest is covered and her cardigan is draped over her shoulders. She remains quiet as I take her hand, lead her back through the house and out to the car, seemingly lost in her own world.
As I slide into the driver's seat, I can't fight the urge to know what's going through that pretty little head of hers any longer. Her face is a careful mask of contemplation, brow furrowed slightly as she stares out the window.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Shiloh jumps a little when I speak, as if she’d forgotten I was here at all.
She takes a deep breath before answering. "I don’t know… You and me? It’s just…it’s just a lot to process,” she says softly. “I can’t shake the feeling this is all so wrong. I don’t want to be, but I guess I’m a little ashamed.”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel enough that my knuckles turn a stark white. “Why is it wrong?” I counter, unable to keep the sharp edge from my voice. “We’re not actually related. It’s not some gross crime for us to want each other. It’s not incest.”
She turns to look at me then, her wary eyes searching mine, for what, I can’t be sure. “You have a point,” she eventually relents… But I can still see the conflict swirling in those pale blue depths.
I want to reach out and touch her again, to pull her close and chase away all her doubts. But something in her posture keeps me at bay. She's curled in on herself, arms wrapped around her body as if she’s back on the defensive. Arguing the point further would only have her locking down, she needs to come to terms with this on her own.
I sure as fuck won’t let it be over though.
The rest of the drive passes in tense silence once again. I rack my brain for something to say, some way to pull her back from whatever turmoil she’s trapped in.
Once we pull up to Shiloh's house, I kill the engine and turn to face her fully. “Let’s go inside,” I say, already reaching for my seatbelt. “I’m sure I know a few ways to wipe that tortured look off your face.”
She shakes her head, reaching for the door handle without looking at me. “Not tonight, Dom. I'm tired and… confused . I just need to go to bed.”
Frustration surges up in my chest, laced with bitter panic. “You’re too in your head, Shy. Don’t talk yourself out of this like you don’t want it as much as I–”
“Not now,” she cuts me off, her voice firm despite its distant softness. “ Please , I just need some time to think.”
I grind my teeth together, swallowing the fierce urge to argue. She's slipping away from me, I can feel it. I force myself to nod silently, to accept her decision even as every cell in my body rebels against it.
Shiloh opens the car door, pausing before she steps out. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way,” she murmurs, a ghost of a smile lifting her lips. “They’re probably all wilted in my car by now, but they were beautiful.”
Before I can answer her, she's out of the car and heading up the short path to her door. I watch her go, confusion warring with the lingering desire to follow her inside.
What fucking flowers?
I never sent her any flowers.
The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Someone else is vying for her attention, trying to win what’s already mine. The thought of another man's hands on her, another man's lips against her skin… Fuck, it makes my blood boil. My hands clench to fists in my lap, and I stay parked long after Shiloh has disappeared inside the house, my mind racing.
Those flowers...Who the hell sent them? And more importantly, how am I going to make sure they're the last gift Shiloh ever receives from another man?