Epilogue
Liana
“Hold still.”
Dominic’s thumb traced the line of the scar across my shoulder. He had done it every night for six weeks. Behind him the shower was already running, and steam was fogging the mirror.
“I am holding still.”
“You’re fidgeting.” He pressed gently along the edge of it, watching my face for a flinch. “Does that hurt?”
“No.”
“This?”
“No.” I caught his wrist. His knuckles had healed into thin pale lines. “Dominic. It doesn’t hurt.”
He studied the scar a moment longer. The skin had knitted pink and tight, the stitches long gone, and the arm that had been strapped to my ribs for weeks moved when I asked it to.
“Almost healed,” he said finally.
“Almost?”
“Almost.” He bent and pressed his lips to the scar, soft as breath. “Which means I still get to be careful with you.”
“Which means you get me in the shower.”
He laughed against my skin, low and warm, and I felt it all the way down my spine.
I reached for the hem of his shirt. He let me undress him, raising his arms so I could pull his shirt over his head, standing still so I could push his pants down his hips. I ran my fingers along the old knife scar on his ribs, the one I had cleaned in our foyer, and he shivered under my touch.
He undressed me slower. He eased my shirt over my bad shoulder like it was still something that could break, and he didn’t look away from my face once.
I pulled him into the shower with me and turned the water as hot as it would go.
I reached for the soap and started washing him.
His hands came to my hips and I didn’t push them away.
I went up on my toes and kissed him under the spray. I felt his fingers tighten on my hips as he pulled me closer.
And then I sank to my knees on the wet tile in front of him, in front of the man the whole coast was afraid of, and I looked up at his face and watched his expression change as he realized what I was about to do.
“Liana. Baby please. You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to.” I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and felt him twitch in my grip. “I want to.”
I took him into my mouth and heard the sound he made, and felt his hand come to my hair, his fingers tangling gently in the wet strands. He braced his other hand against the tile and watched me, his eyes dark and burning, never looking away as I worked him with my mouth.
I started slow, learning him again, relearning the taste of him and the weight of him on my tongue and the way his hips twitched when I did something he liked.
The metal of his piercing was warm now, heated by the water and my mouth, and I traced my tongue around it and felt the shudder run through his whole body.
“Fuck.” His head dropped back against the tile and his hand tightened in my hair. “That’s - Liana, that’s-”
I took him deeper, relaxing my throat, letting him slide in until my nose brushed his stomach, and the sound he made echoed off the tile.
I pulled back and took him deep again, finding a rhythm, working him with my mouth and my hand, and his hips started moving in small involuntary thrusts that I let him take, let him fuck my mouth while the water pounded down on both of us.
I could feel him getting close, could feel the tension building in his thighs and the way his breathing changed, and I worked him faster, sucking harder, taking him as deep as I could.
“I’m close.” His voice frayed to almost nothing. “Liana, I’m going to-”
I didn’t pull away. I took him deeper and sucked harder and felt his whole body go rigid above me as he came with a broken sound, spilling down my throat in hot pulses.
I swallowed greedily, wanting all of it, wanting every part of him.
I worked him through it with my mouth, gentling as he softened, until he was shaking and pulling me up with hands that trembled, careful of my shoulder even now.
He hauled me up against him and kissed me stupid, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, tasting himself on me and not caring.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything I had.
Then he turned me to the wall.
The tile was cold against my back for one second before his body pressed against my front and warmed me everywhere, his mouth finding my neck, his teeth scraping over my pulse point, and I felt his hand slide down my stomach and between my thighs.
“My turn.” He growled it against my throat, and the vibration of his voice made me shiver.
His fingers found me aching, and he groaned against my neck when he felt how wet I was.
“All this from sucking my cock?” He said it against my ear, slow, savoring it.
“Yes.” I grabbed his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. “God, yes.”
He pushed two fingers inside me without warning and I gasped, my head falling back against the tile, my hips rocking forward into his hand.
“That’s it.” His mouth moved over my neck, kissing and biting and sucking marks into my skin that would last for days. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
I was shaking, trembling, right on the edge. “Please make me come. Please, I need your cock, I need you inside me.”
“Not yet.” He curled his fingers hard and I broke.
The orgasm ripped through me so hard my knees buckled, and he caught me with his free arm. I clenched around his fingers, pulsing, milking them, and he groaned against my neck like my pleasure was doing something to him too.
“That’s it. Fuck, feel that. You’re soaking my hand.” He kept his fingers buried in me while I shook. “You’re not done. Not even close.”
“Dominic.” My legs still wouldn’t hold me. “I can’t.”
“You can.” He pulled his fingers out slow and I felt the loss of them like an ache. “Turn around.”
“Please.” I was already moving, already turning, pressing my palms flat to the wet tile. “Please, I need you to fuck me. I can’t wait anymore, I need your cock, please.”
“Look at you.” His hands closed over my hips, gripping hard, dragging me back until I felt him against me. “Begging so pretty. You want it that bad?”
“Yes.” I pushed back against him, chasing it. “God, yes, please, Dominic.”
“Say it again.” His cock slid through my slick folds, teasing, notching against my entrance and then dragging away. “Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me.” My forehead dropped against the tile. “Please, please fuck me, I need your cock inside me.”
He drove into me in one hard stroke and I cried out, the sound bouncing off the walls, my pussy stretching around him, taking all of him at once. He held there, buried to the hilt, and I felt him shudder behind me.
“Christ.” His grip on my hips tightened. “You feel this? How you’re squeezing me? Missed this. Missed being inside you.”
“Move.” I was already rocking back against him. “Please, move, I need you.”
He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, and the rhythm he set was punishing, his hips snapping against my ass, the wet sound of it mixing with the water pounding down on us. Every thrust drove the breath out of me, drove me up onto my toes, drove me into the wall.
“That’s it. Take it.” His hand slid up my spine and spread wide between my shoulder blades, careful of the scar, bending me forward, changing the angle so he hit deeper. “Take all of it. This what you needed?”
“Yes.” It came out broken on every thrust. “Yes, yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
“Not stopping.” His thumb dragged through the wetness sliding down between my cheeks, circling my asshole, pressing just enough that I gasped. “This okay?”
“Yes.” I pushed back, wanting it. “Yes, please.”
He pushed his thumb inside me slow while his cock kept driving into my pussy, and the fullness of it, the two of him inside me at once, made my whole body clench and shudder. I cried out and he groaned behind me.
“Fuck, feel that. You’re gripping me everywhere.” He worked his thumb in time with his thrusts, and I couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and the other began. “You like that? Like being this full?”
“Don’t stop.” I was babbling now, past shame, past anything. “I’m close, oh god, I’m so close.”
“I know you are. I can feel it.” His hips drove harder, his thumb pressed deeper. “Come on my cock. Let me feel you.”
His hand snaked around my hip and found my clit, circling fast, and that was all it took. I shattered around him, clenching down on his cock and his thumb both, and the sound I made was raw and ruined. He fucked me through it, cursing, his rhythm going ragged.
“There she is. Fuck.” His thrusts stuttered. “I’m gonna. Where do you want it?”
“Inside.” I clenched around him. “Come inside me, please.”
He slammed home and held there, spilling into me with a broken sound against the back of my neck, his cock pulsing, his thumb still buried deep as he emptied himself inside me. We stayed like that, shaking, the water pounding down, until he softened and slipped free.
He turned me around slow and kissed me, gentle now, all the roughness gone out of him.
I looked up at him, at the water sliding from his hair and the thin pale scars across his knuckles.
He ran his thumb along my shoulder one more time.
“Almost healed,” he said again, softer.
“Almost.” I curled his fingers against my chest, over the place where my heart was still running fast. “We’ll get there.”
He let out a breath that shuddered on the way out, and his arms folded around me, slow and careful, like he was still afraid I might break in his hands.
I tucked myself into the warm slope of his chest, under the water, and I did not move.
THE END