23. Dominic
Dominic
T he doctor’s already waiting for us at the front desk.
Lena insists on walking on her own, but I keep a firm arm around her waist and practically carry her.
In the elevator, she starts protesting in front of him, saying there’s nothing wrong with her.
He studies her face, checks her eyes, then gives me a subtle nod of reassurance. She’s okay.
Up in the apartment, I lay her on the bed, take off her shoes, and step aside to let him work. He checks everything. Vitals, pulse, blood pressure, reflexes, pupil response. Even asks when she last ate. And whether there’s a chance she might be pregnant.
Lena answers calmly. She is not in pain.
Fully coherent. But I’m still on edge. Once the adrenaline wears off, the body can crash hard, especially after trauma and whatever the hell they gave her.
A sudden drop in blood pressure, shock, or even delayed effects from the drugs.
It’s not over just because she’s awake and talking.
She was drugged. Maybe knocked down. Maybe slammed into a wall.
She’s got a cut on her temple that the doctor cleans in silence, and a deepening bruise on her cheek where Anton hit her.
If Gabriel hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve killed that fucker.
We got there in time. But those hours not knowing where she was? Felt like fucking eternity.
Gabriel knows everything about security in this city—private, corporate, underground.
And if he doesn’t have the names, someone on his team does.
That’s how he found out. Some of Anton’s former guys, now working for him, tipped us off.
They said a team had been assembled for a kidnapping.
Glitch, his hacker, tracked their phones.
He saw them all clustered in one spot. That’s how we found her.
Now she’s here. Breathing. But the weight in my chest hasn’t lifted.
As soon as the doctor walks out, Lena turns to me. “How’s your mom?”
“You need to rest. You heard the doctor. Let me handle the worrying.”
“I’m fine. That’s what he actually said. Answer me.”
“She’s doing better. She came to, talked to us. I left her with Dad and Violetta.”
“What happened to her?”
“She passed out. Luckily, we were both there.”
“We? You mean you and your dad? That must’ve been tense. So that’s where you disappeared to?”
“Yeah.” I pause. “I had to clear up that real estate thing. You know, the one that pissed you off.”
“Your mom didn’t seem like the fainting type. What did you do to her?”
“Nothing on purpose. She overheard us arguing. Loud, almost fighting. I said something about Axel… it triggered a reaction. And she just… dropped.”
“What did you say to him?”
“Something stupid. Something I didn’t think through.” I exhale. “She’s okay now. But you are my priority.”
That slows her down. Her eyes narrow, like she’s not sure if I mean it, or if she wants to believe it.
Then she pushes herself up on one elbow, like she needs a better read on me.
Her fingers brush a few strands from her face.
She looks like hell. Pale, bruised, but steady.
Eyes sharp. Stubborn. Still her. Still My Sassy.
“Come on,” I say quietly. “Let’s get you in the shower. You’ll feel better.”
She arches an eyebrow, slightly. “Is that the doctor’s order, or yours?”
I hold her gaze. “Mine.”
She doesn’t argue. Just looks at me, like she’s holding on to something, then follows. In the bathroom, she starts unbuttoning her shirt. I watch it like it’s slow motion. Her fingers fumble slightly on the fabric, but her eyes stay locked on mine.
I strip too, not rushing. Her gaze drifts over my body, and she doesn’t look away. There’s heat in it. Not loud, not obvious, but it’s there. By the time I step toward her, we’re both naked. The moment the hot water hits us, steam curls around our bodies.
She lifts her arms and twists her hair into a knot, exposing the smooth line of her back.
I watch a drop of water trace its way down her spine, over the dip of her waist, then lower.
I step in behind her, sliding my hands around her hips, gently pulling her back until her ass presses flush against my cock, hardening the second she touches me.
She doesn’t tense. Doesn’t pull away. She lets out a soft breath and tips her head back, resting it lightly on my shoulder.
I should slow down. Be patient. She’s been through hell.
But all I can think about is how fucking perfect she feels against me.
I close my eyes for half a second, holding on by a thread.
I reach for the soap and start slowly. Her shoulders first. My hands glide over her damp skin, lathering in slow circles.
She tilts her head a little more, giving me access to her neck.
And I take my time there, lingering, brushing my lips just barely across the spot beneath her ear.
She shivers. I move lower, hands sliding over her arms, down her sides.
She leans into me, fully now, trusting me to hold her.
I cup her breasts from behind, soapy fingers teasing her nipples until they harden under my touch.
Her breathing changes, soft and uneven, like she’s sinking into the feeling.
She braces one hand against the wall and slides the other over mine, not to stop me, but to hold me there.
Fuck, I want her. Every inch. I need to feel her around me. But I hold back. I shift my hand lower, between her thighs, and touch her gently, just enough to feel how hot and wet she already is. Her hips press back against me, grinding against my cock. That’s when she speaks, her voice rough:
“I wish I could always feel your hands on my body… always feel you near me.”
She leans her head back against me a little more, like she needs the contact.
“You’re my rock, Dominic… Let’s not pretend anymore. Let’s make it real.”
Her words hit me like a fucking freight train. Let’s make it real.
I slide my hands over her belly, then up to her breasts again.
Slower this time, possessive. She gasps as I squeeze gently, thumbs grazing her nipples.
Then I bring both hands back down, lower, until my palms rest flat on her hips.
I grind against her deliberately, pressing my cock against her ass, so hard I’m aching to be inside her.
My lips brush the back of her neck as I murmur, low and rough:
“This is how you want me?”
She leans into my touch like she’s already addicted to it. I turn her around slowly to face me. Water runs down her flushed skin. Her lips are parted, her chest rising fast. I drink her in.
“Lena,” I say, locking eyes with her. “I never faked a damn thing. Not the way I touched you. Not the way I looked at you.”
She blinks, stunned by the raw edge in my voice.
“From the second you walked into my club, something in me locked onto you. And it never let go. You hit me harder than anything in my life. And I’ve been trying not to scare you off, waiting for you to feel it too.”
Her eyes soften. She lifts a hand, presses it to my chest. No hesitation, no doubt.
“Show me it’s real,” she whispers. “Take me to bed, I want to feel all of you.”
I scoop her up in one fluid motion, still dripping, and carry her out of the shower. I dry her off in silence, focused and thorough, like every bit of her deserves special care. Then I towel off, just enough not to soak the sheets.
I carry her to bed and lay her down gently, looking at her like I’ve waited my whole life for this.
Because I have. Then I lie back and pull her over me, guiding her into place, right where I want her.
She straddles me slowly, knees framing my hips.
Her skin’s still damp, cheeks flushed, her hair wild around her face.
She looks down at me like she owns every inch of my body.
And she does. I reach up and run my hands over her thighs, sliding them to her hips, then up to the curve of her waist. Her skin is warm and soft under my hands, like she was made to fit against me.
For a second, I close my eyes, just to keep from going too fast. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Then I reach for the nightstand, opening the drawer to grab a condom.
Her hand catches mine. “No,” she says, locking eyes with me. “I said I want to feel all of you.”
I freeze, staring at her. “Lena… you could get pregnant.”
She leans down, her lips near mine. “I know. I want everything with you. Even that. Something that’s ours.”
I stare at her, chest tight. “You wreck me. You know that?”
I reach up and pull her down, my mouth brushing hers. “If this is how we start something that’s ours, I’m all in.”
She reaches down, wraps her hand around my cock, and guides me to her entrance.
Her heat brushes the tip, and I almost lose it right there.
Then she sinks onto me, tight and deep, until I’m buried inside her.
Her lips part as her eyes flutter closed.
She sinks all the way down, until I’m buried in her completely.
Holy fuck. She’s tight, hot, wet with every part of her wrapping around me like she was made for this, for me.
She holds still, adjusting to the stretch, hands planted on my chest. Then she starts to move. Slow at first. Rocking her hips, testing the rhythm, learning how to make me lose control. Her breasts bounce gently with each motion, her thighs flexing as she grinds down on me with more pressure.
I grip her hips, not to control her, to feel her. “That’s it, baby,” I whisper. “Ride me. Just like that. Take what you need.”
She moans and moves faster, deeper, harder. Her head tips back, her breath ragged, eyes lost in pleasure. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room. She’s giving me all of her. And I fucking love her for it.
The friction builds fast, my cock throbbing deep inside her. She clenches around me, muscles trembling. “Dominic… I’m going to come.”
“Do it,” I growl. “I want to feel you fall apart on me.”