I step closer and press my hands to his body, parting his already open shirt so I can take in his strong chest, his muscular stomach.
I slide my hands lower.
When I reach his belt, Dom’s hands move, grasping my wrists.
And that’s when I see the blood.
It’s his own. His own split knuckles from slamming his bare fists into tough leather over and over again for an hour.
And my heart clenches for him.
This man carries the weight of so many people on his back.
I know I can never carry that burden for him. But maybe I can help ease it.
With my mouth.
He doesn’t remove his hands, but he doesn’t stop me either as I undo his belt.
And he doesn’t stop me when I unbutton his pants or when I pull the zipper down.
And he lets go of my wrists when I sink to my knees, allowing me to drag his pants and boxers down with me.
My fingers graze over his newest tattoo in the process, and I stare at the base of his already swollen cock. Which is still growing.
I wet my lips, and his length bobs in reaction.
He’s sweaty. Still breathing heavily. His dick is inches from my face. And I’m so turned on I’m going to start dripping onto the floor.
I pull at the material pooling around Dominic’s bare feet, and he lifts one foot, then the other, so I can push it away.
Looking down at me, Dominic peels his shirt off his shoulders, tossing that aside as well.
Neck to ankles, his tattoos make him look like a mythical soldier. A man made solely for battle. A protector.
A man made for me.
I shift up onto my knees so my mouth is level with his hips. But before I close the distance between us, I reach down and untie my dress, unwrapping the sunshine material until it’s hanging open at my sides. Exposing my front to Dominic and the fact that I have nothing on underneath.
His next exhale is audible. And before he can stop me, or decide he wants something else, I lean forward and wrap my lips around the head of his cock.
We both moan.
And wetness floods my center.
I grab the base of his dick at the same moment he digs his hands into my hair.
His hold is tight, and it’s like he’s trying to stop me from taking him deeper. But I want this. I want to do this for him.
I stick my tongue out, licking the underside of his length, tasting as much as I can as I lean against his hold.
I need more.
Dominic lets out another guttural groan, but instead of pulling my head back, he drags me forward, letting me—making me—take him deeper.
I suck. And lick. And make sounds as I swallow as much of him as I can.
His tip bumps against the back of my throat, and my body reacts, my muscles contracting in revolt.
But instead of feeling sick over gagging on his cock, I feel… sexy.
Proud that I’m trying.
His hold on my hair loosens, letting me pull away and pick my own pace.
I try again, my hand still on the base of his cock, holding him steady as I slide my lips down his smooth, thick dick.
I blink when he hits that spot again. Tears form as a bodily reaction, nothing else.
And I stare at his vow, stare at his promise, as I take him just a tiny bit deeper.
My nipples are aching to be touched. And my pussy is begging to be filled. But right now, with Dominic’s cock in my mouth, I feel more settled than I have in a long time.
He’s mine.
Til Death.
And I’m his.
I pull back, sucking on his tip, swallowing the beads of precum that leak from his cock and inhaling the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat.
I want this life.
My free hand reaches up to cup his heavy balls, and I lean in, taking him to the back of my throat and pushing through—just another inch.
CHAPTER 59
Dom
Valentine gags around my cock, and I can’t take it anymore.
I need to thrust. Need to pound myself into her hole. Any one of them will do. But I can’t throat fuck her.
Not yet.
Not when I need to fill that unprotected pussy with my cum.
I jerk my hips back, dislodging myself from her mouth.
But I don’t let her get up. I drop down to meet her on the floor, shoving her onto her back.
Val’s legs automatically spread, and the shine of her slickness coats her thighs.
This is the first time she’s come to me for sex. And she’s come to me soaking wet.
I grip her knees and shove them even wider.
My bloodied hands are a contrast to the soft, pale skin of her inner thighs. Further proof of my corruption of her life.
Val’s head lifts from the floor, and I know she’s looking at my hands, too.
“Can you teach me to like it?” Her whispered words snap my gaze up to meet hers. “The pain.”