Chapter 33 Dominic
DOMINIC
Ipush through the door of my penthouse, exhaustion weighing on my shoulders after twelve hours of damage control meetings. William Pike’s announcement has spooked investors, and I’ve spent the day reassuring them that their money is safe despite the political attacks.
The first thing I hear is laughter—Ryder’s deep chuckle, Cora’s lighter one, and Liam’s sardonic tone weaving between them. I follow the sound to the living room, my footsteps silent against the marble floor.
I freeze in the doorway, the sight before me knocking the air from my lungs.
They’re tangled together on the sectional—Cora curled in Ryder’s lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, head tucked beneath his chin.
Liam sits pressed against them, one arm draped casually around Ryder’s shoulders, fingertips just brushing Cora’s hair.
Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, comfortable and intimate.
Something sharp twists in my chest. They look right together. Complete.
Without me.
I stand motionless, an outsider witnessing something I wasn’t meant to see. The pain in my chest intensifies, unfamiliar and unwelcome. I don’t do jealousy—I’m Dominic fucking Vega. I take what I want. I don’t yearn for inclusion like some pathetic teenager.
Yet the question burns through me: Where do I fit in this picture?
In the Hunt, my role was clear. I led. They followed. But here, in the real world, the lines have blurred. They’ve formed connections while I’ve been busy trying to bury my head in the sand over what this is.
My jaw tightens as I watch Ryder whisper something that makes Cora giggle, Liam’s eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles at them both.
This tight feeling in my chest—I can’t name it. Don’t want to. It feels too much like fear, like loss.
Like longing.
I shift my weight, ready to retreat to my office before they notice me standing here like some lovesick fool. Work is safer. Clearer. I understand the rules there.
The floorboard beneath my Italian leather shoe creaks softly.
Ryder’s head snaps up, his eyes finding mine instantly. Instead of the awkwardness I expect—the scrambling to create space—his face breaks into that lazy smile that’s always felt like it’s designed specifically to get under my skin.
“Come on over, Daddy, and stop watching,” Ryder calls out, throwing me a wink that’s equal parts invitation and challenge. It’s like he can read every conflicted thought racing through my mind.
The pet name hits differently here than it did during the Hunt. There, it was a performance. Here, in my home, it feels raw.
I force my expression to remain neutral even as heat crawls up my neck. I hate that he can see through me so easily, that he somehow understands what I’m feeling before I’ve even processed it myself.
“Long day?” Liam asks, not moving his arm from around Ryder, not making space as if expecting me to find my own.
Cora shifts in Ryder’s lap, her eyes meeting mine with a complexity I can’t quite read.
I remain frozen, caught between the instinct to assert dominance—to remind them all that this is my penthouse, these are my rules—and the unfamiliar urge to join them, to sink into whatever easy comfort they’ve found without me.
“You going to stand there all night?” Ryder prompts, patting the space beside him. “We saved you a spot.”
I hesitate a moment longer before moving toward them. I’m not used to this—joining rather than commanding, fitting into a space rather than creating it.
Cora looks up at me, those green eyes cutting straight through my defenses. There’s a challenge there, but also something that looks like... an invitation. Fuck if I can refuse her when she looks at me like that. I’ve never been able to, not from the first moment I saw her.
I settle into the space they’ve made, my body tense with unfamiliar uncertainty. Before I can overthink it, Cora shifts from Ryder’s lap and crawls into mine. The weight of her feels right, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
“Rough day?” she asks, her voice softer than I deserve.
I nod, breathing in her scent—jasmine and something uniquely Cora. My arms circle her waist instinctively, and the tension I didn’t realize I was carrying begins to dissolve.
“We were just discussing Cora’s father’s announcement,” Liam says, his lawyer voice creeping in. “The timing is strategic, launching his gubernatorial campaign on the back of a moral attack on us.”
Just like that, reality crashes back. Mayor Pike. The campaign announcement. The thinly veiled threats were aimed at all three of us. I tense again, my grip tightening around Cora reflexively.
“I almost forgot about it for a second,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “Watching you three.”
Ryder raises an eyebrow. “The great Dominic Vega, distracted from business? I’m flattered.”
I should have a cutting response ready. Instead, I find myself grateful for the warmth of Cora in my arms, for Ryder’s teasing, for Liam’s steady presence. For this moment of belonging, before we face whatever Pike has planned next.
“So, what’s the play here?” Ryder asks, leaning forward, his eyes sharp with focus. “Pike’s made another move. How do we respond?”
I stroke Cora’s back absently, my mind already calculating angles and weaknesses. This is familiar territory—strategy, countermoves, the game of power.
Liam sets his wine glass down, lawyer mode fully engaged now. “I believe our best approach is a smear campaign with Cora at the forefront.”
“What exactly do you mean?” I ask, feeling Cora stiffen slightly in my arms.
“We gather evidence of his abuse,” Liam continues. “We start with Cora’s testimony, then find patterns. There must be ex-girlfriends who’ve experienced similar treatment. Staff who’ve witnessed his outbursts. We build a comprehensive case showing who William Pike really is behind closed doors.”
Ryder nods slowly. “Take the legal route instead of playing dirty like he is.”
“Exactly,” Liam says. “We let him throw the first punch, then counter with documented evidence that destroys not just his campaign but his entire public persona.”
I consider this as I run scenarios in my head. “It would be effective,” I agree. “Nothing tanks a ‘family values’ platform faster than proof you beat your own daughter.” My arms tighten around Cora protectively as the words leave my mouth.
The room falls silent. I look down at Cora, whose face has gone pale. This isn’t just a strategy for her. This is her life, her pain, her trauma, her father—complicated and messy in ways I can’t fully understand.
“Cora,” I say, softening my voice, “would you be up for that? Going public with everything?”
Cora stares back at me, her expression a complex blend of emotions. She looks so damn fragile sitting in my lap, her shoulders squared with determination despite the vulnerability in those green eyes. She nods, but the slight tremble in her bottom lip betrays her uncertainty.
“We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with,” I say, tracing her cheekbone with my thumb gently. “This happens on your timeline, not ours. If you’re not ready—”
“I am,” she interrupts. “I need to do this. He’s hurt me for years, controlled every aspect of my life.” Her fingers curl into fists against my chest. “He needs to pay for all the pain he’s put me through.”
The fierce determination in her eyes pulls at something deep inside me.
Before I can overthink it, I lean forward and capture her lips with mine. I kiss her not as part of some plan or power play, but because I’m drawn to her strength, her resilience. Because something in me needs to protect her from everything that might hurt her.
Her lips part beneath mine. She kisses me back with an intensity that matches my own, her hands sliding up to frame my face. There’s forgiveness in that kiss, which I don’t deserve but desperately want.
When she pulls away, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright. She looks at me, then shifts her gaze to include Liam and Ryder. Something changes in her expression—determination transforming into desire.
“I want you,” she says, her voice steady now as she looks at each of us in turn. “All of you. Right now.”
“Fuck,” I swear. “I thought you’d never want us again.”
The truth slips out before I can stop it. After a week of maintaining careful distance, of watching her navigate our shared space with wary eyes and defensive posture, I’d convinced myself she was lost to us. To me.
I’ve spent nights alone in my bedroom, separated by walls that might as well have been oceans, aching for her. “After a week without your tight cunt around my cock, I feel like I’m dying,” I confess, my voice rough with need.
Her eyes darken at my crude words. Instead of pulling away, she leans forward, catching my bottom lip between her teeth. The sharp sting sends heat straight to my groin.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she whispers against my mouth, the name making my cock throb painfully against my zipper. “Let me take care of that.”
Before I can respond, Cora slides from my lap to the floor, positioning herself between my spread legs. Her fingers make quick work of my belt buckle, each small metallic sound amplifying the tension coiling inside me.
She maintains eye contact as she unzips my pants, her confidence a stark contrast to the uncertain woman who entered my penthouse a week ago. When her cool fingers wrap around my cock, I hiss through clenched teeth, fighting for control.
Ryder and Liam don’t hesitate. They rise from the couch, quickly shedding their pants and briefs. My peripheral vision catches their movements as they position themselves on either side of me, each taking his cock in hand, stroking slowly.
Cora’s lips wrap around the head of my cock, her tongue swirling over the sensitive tip. I groan, one hand instinctively moving to cradle the back of her head, not pushing, just feeling the silky strands of her hair between my fingers.
I can’t help but look at Ryder and Liam flanking me, their hands working their cocks as they watch Cora take me deeper. The sight of their bodies—muscular, masculine, powerful—sends a surge of heat through me.
I can’t tear my gaze away from Ryder’s cock—thick and hard as he strokes it slowly.
My mouth goes dry as I watch the way his fingers slide up and down the length.
During the Hunt, I’d managed to rationalize everything—it was just part of the game, the power, the control.
But here in my living room, with no masks or excuses, I can’t deny the heat pooling in my gut at the sight of him.
Ryder catches me staring, and his lips curve into that knowing smirk that makes me want to either punch him or kiss him—I’m not sure which.
“See something you like, Dom?” His voice drops low, teasing and confident in a way that makes my cock throb harder in Cora’s mouth.
I should look away. Should focus on Cora. Should maintain whatever shred of control I have left. Instead, I find myself transfixed, watching a bead of precum form at his tip.
“You can touch if you want,” Ryder offers, his hand slowing to a near stop. “I know you’ve been thinking about it.”
“I haven’t,” I lie automatically, even as my free hand twitches with the urge to reach out.
“Bullshit.” Ryder scoots closer on the sofa, his cock now just inches from my hand. “You’ve been watching me since we moved in.”
Cora hums around my cock, the vibration shooting up my spine as she takes me deeper. The dual sensation—her mouth on me, Ryder’s challenge—has my head swimming.
“It’s just a hand,” Ryder coaxes. “Nothing you haven’t done to yourself a thousand times.”
I swallow hard, torn between desire and the last remnants of whatever I’ve been telling myself about who I am. What I want.
“Fuck it,” I growl, reaching out to wrap my fingers around his shaft.
The weight of him in my hand is foreign yet familiar. Hot skin over steel. My grip tightens instinctively, and Ryder’s sharp intake of breath sends a surge of power through me.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice strained as I begin to stroke him. “Just like that, Daddy.”
The feeling of Ryder’s cock in my hand and Cora’s mouth around mine sends my head spinning. I’m barely processing the sensations when Liam moves behind the couch, his hands sliding down my chest from behind.
“Let me help you with this,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear as his fingers start working the buttons of my shirt.
I grunt my approval, unable to form coherent words as Cora takes me deeper. My grip on Ryder tightens unconsciously, making him hiss with pleasure.
Liam works the buttons of my expensive shirt open. The cool air hits my chest, followed immediately by the warm press of Liam’s mouth on my shoulder. His teeth graze my skin, not quite biting, testing boundaries.
“Fuck,” I growl as he trails kisses down to my collarbone.
Ryder watches with hungry eyes as Liam’s hands explore my chest, thumbs brushing over my nipples. “Look at Daddy getting all the attention,” he says, voice thick with desire.
They’re all looking to me, waiting for direction, for approval.
Liam moves back to the sofa and kneels beside me, his mouth finds my nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive flesh before sucking hard.
The jolt of pleasure makes my hips buck involuntarily, pushing deeper into Cora’s throat.
She takes it without complaint, her eyes watering slightly as she looks up at me.
“Good girl, keep sucking me with that perfect fucking mouth, baby girl.” I keep my hand tangled in Cora’s hair.
“And you, I stare at Liam. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?
Sucking Daddy’s nipples.” Liam makes a sound against my chest that vibrates through me, his lips and tongue working my nipple with increasing intensity.
My cock hardens impossibly further, throbbing against Cora’s tongue.
I squeeze Ryder’s cock harder as I twist my wrist, and he groans.
“And you, so hard and leaking for me. All three of you are my perfect little sluts.”
Ryder’s eyes darken at my praise, his cock pulsing in my grip. “You like having us all serve you, Daddy?”
I can’t deny it—not with three sets of eyes watching me come undone, not with my body betraying how much I want this. Want them. All of them.