His

by Fiona Murphy

  His other hand is between my legs, tugging my panties to the side.

  “Don’t!” I struggle, shame filling me.

  “Don’t what, princess? Don’t feel how wet you are. Jesus, you are soaking wet. Did you come, princess?” Two fingers slide along my lower lips; they are so slick there is no resistance as they sink into me. Oh, god, no. Even his fingers are thick. I should be outraged, feel invaded, but I’m none of those things. I want more of it, of everything. I struggle not to move on his fingers; desperate need has me whimpering at fighting my body’s desire for those fingers to move deeper into me. “Did you come from sucking my cock?”

  I’m shaking my head because I don’t know. I’ve never even touched myself other than to wash. My body did something, only it wasn’t the body trembling thing that happened to Dominic. My hands go around his wrist. It’s so thick, I have to grab him with both hands as his muscles flex below my hands. “Stop it, please stop it, Dominic.”

  “Stop? Princess, we haven’t even gotten to the best part.” His fingers move and oh fucking god. My hips move without my permission. I jump as a thick fingertip brushes against my clitoris. “There it is, the pearl in the ocean of your sweet juicy pussy. Saying stop when you’re creaming for my cock before I’m even inside you is exactly the kind of shit that makes you a girl instead of a woman.”

  Dominic growls. In a flurry of movement my panties are gone and I’m flat on my back. I barely have time to take it in when he moves between my legs. His shoulders are between my thighs, his hot breath... Oh, no, no, this is wrong. So wrong, I’m begging him to stop. He doesn’t even slow down as his velvet tongue runs over the seam of me. His moan sends shivers through me. No, this is wrong, he has to stop. My hands go into his hair, trying to pull him away. Deeper his tongue delves into me, and against my will my hips move to meet that greedy tongue. Mindlessly begging him for more.

  “Dominic, no.” I gasp even as my legs open wider and tears fall from my eyes at the way my body is betraying my mind. Again and again his tongue pushes into me before teasing around that tight bundle of nerves and need. Once, twice...he’s stopped.

  Fighting for air, I can only watch as he moves off the bed. His movements are slow and languid as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He steps into his boxers. That damn eyebrow goes up as those ice-blue eyes run over me.

  “Dominic?” I hate the way it comes out of me in a plaintive whisper.

  “You said stop.” The bastard laughs. “Good girls get to come, princess. I wanted to taste your come on my tongue; you were the one who said no.” A shrug. “I told you. I fuck women, not girls.”

  I’m frozen, unable to even move on my own as he rolls the top cover over me, then gets under the sheet and pulls me against him, spoon fashion, my back to his front. “Go to sleep. This is all I was going to do from the very beginning. If you had been a good girl, we would have both been asleep by now.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as he turns off the light. His hold isn’t tight but he’s all around me. Even with the covers between us I can feel his hard-muscled chest move against my back, smell the leather, rain, and moss of his cologne. Why does this feel so good? Am I a freak? I have to be—I loved when his hand went around my throat, then it made me wetter when he tightened it.

  Dominic may have forced his cock into my mouth but I eagerly tasted him, wanted more of him. Even now I’m trembling at what the mere memory of tasting him does to me. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I’ve dreamed of my wedding night with Richard, with a man who loved me and wanted to make love to me, not a man who forced his cock into my mouth. Damn it, why can’t I remember those dreams?

  Closing my eyes, I search desperately for those dreams only to find they are gone. Now, all I can see is Dominic. All I can feel is his hands on me, his mouth on me. What would happen if I turned around and... Stop it.

  ***

  Dominic

  The moment she slips into sleep, I feel it. Fuck me, it had not been easy to keep from sliding between her legs and taking what’s mine. I have no doubt about it: Regina is mine, completely and utterly. Her eager tongue licking over every inch of my cock over and over again until I saw stars, the way her wet mouth sucked on me deep, just right. The way she collapsed into my arms when I let her go screamed it, even if she won’t say it.

  Sweet, innocent Regina likes it rough. I’m well aware the first time we fuck I’ll have to be gentle, but after that I cannot wait to lose myself in her hot, tight heaven. I’ll need to spend a good hour eating her until she comes so many times she can’t move. God, I haven’t tasted a pussy as sweet as hers in...fuck, I can’t remember. My cock is leaking again at the need to taste her. I had wanted so badly to taste her come on my tongue.

  But my princess has some lessons to learn. I can only hope we get to them all before our wedding night. A small sigh escapes her. She nearly undoes me when she moans my name. My arms tighten around her. This isn’t usual for me. I don’t like to sleep with a woman in my arms—I need my space to fall asleep. It was annoying enough to have a woman sleep the night in my bed. I did it because it was convenient to have them there when I woke up and wanted to fuck. Right now, Regina feels damn good in my arms. Her soft body melting into mine, she fits me perfectly, in so many ways.

  9

  Regina

  I wake up alone in bed to the sound of the shower running. Gasping at the realization, I begin to roll off the bed only to find I’m attached to the bedframe. What in the fuck? He has used what looks like three silk ties to attach the cuffs to the metal bedframe. This motherfucker.

  The door opens behind me, and I tighten the covers around me. I turn to find him standing in the doorway with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Oh my god, my mouth waters and I’m shockingly wet. It’s only when I blink that I realize I haven’t in so long my eyes sting. His body is a work of art, there are tattoos in Latin inked into his skin, I hadn’t been able to take in before. Even the jagged scars don’t detract from how stunning he is.

  “What happened?” Then he turns his back on me and I gasp as I take in the network of scars on his back. “Dominic?” My stomach turns, I close my eyes tight as I struggle not to be sick at the pain and violence etched onto his beautiful body.

  “Ah, princess, don’t cry. It happened a long time ago. It’s not worth your tears.”

  “How can you say that?”

  A strong hand comes up under my chin, tilting my face up to him. His thumb wipes a tear away. “I hate when you cry. My injuries are what happened when I made the mistake of trusting the wrong person. I deserved what I got. I should have died, I’m lucky I didn’t. I learned my lesson. I haven’t gained another scar since.”

  I hate the loss of his touch as he kneels down in front of me to untie me.

  “I need to get dressed. Do you want to take a shower? I brought your bag in from the car.”

  Nodding, wiping away my tears, I take my bag into the bathroom still foggy from his shower.

  I put up my hair, not wanting to deal with it wet, then jump into the shower. I wash quickly and dry off. There is a toothbrush still in a wrapper but no toothpaste, better something than nothing. It takes a few minutes to brush out my hair then braid it. My clothes are at the bottom of the bag, so in frustration I upend it.

  At the top of everything is the white lace dress I had picked for my wedding dress. It is simple with a high collar and goes all the way to my ankles. The moment I saw it I knew it would be perfect for a simple wedding dress. Studying it, all the dreams I had when I picked it out wash over me. I blink and they disappear. The despair I believed would come doesn’t.

  Instead flashes of the previous day burn bright, the moment my eyes met Dominic’s for the first time. The way he held my hand, his grip tightening before he let me go, how he tossed me into the damn trunk. How he wiped my tears away, his kiss; a shiver runs up my spine at the memory of his kiss. Then, oh god, my entire body shudders and I’m wet between my legs. I swear I ca
n taste him on my tongue, feel him in my mouth and ache to feel him inside me.

  When he bragged about making a woman’s eyes roll back into her head, I scoffed only to find he wasn’t bragging, it was a statement of fact. I begged him to stop not because I didn’t like it—I more than liked it, I loved it. I wanted more even though it was dirty and wrong.

  Any of those things would have left a mark on me. Yet it was the culmination of it all that sealed my fate. Those hours he held me as we slept, his large body wrapped around me. For the first time in my entire life I felt...safe, home, as if I was always supposed to be in that bed in this hotel with Dominic, in his arms.

  It hits me. I’m not getting out of this. I won’t be able to get away from Dominic Sabatini. Not today, a month, or even a year from now. If somehow, some way I got away, he’d find me. I have no idea why instead of scaring me, the realization thrills me.

  No, no. Fear shakes me out of my reverie. I can’t just give up. There has to be a way. There is always a way, isn’t there?

  I startle at the knock on the bathroom door.

  “Regina, get moving. I’m starving. I want to grab something to eat then get back on the road.”

  Looking down at the dress, anger at Dominic and myself fuels me. Today was supposed to be my wedding day, this is my wedding dress. I refuse to make this easy, for either of us.

  Hands shaking, I put on the pretty white lace bra and plain cotton white briefs. Forcing my fear down, I slip into the white dress.

  When I open the door, Dominic is standing by the door leading out of the room, carrying his leather duffle. His eyes go cold. “Change.”

  “No.” I’m defiant, refusing to back down from the dark energy vibrating around him.

  He drops the duffle and crosses the room in all of three steps. A hand goes around my throat and my stupid body betrays me, going instantly limp against him. “Take it off or I will.”

  I shake my head as much as I can. I blink and holy fucking crap, his other hand finds the neckline and tears it from my body. We’re both breathing hard and fast. The hand around my neck lets me go and fucking shit, I stumble into him. His hands wrap around my arms as he catches me close, his mouth at my ear. Hot air is sliding down the skin of my neck and I can’t fucking breathe.

  “You are mine. You belong to me. I can make you tremble in ecstasy or fear. The decision is yours.”

  This time when he lets me go I can stand on my own, barely. I grab my bag and slam back into the bathroom, shaking with fear and need. Hands trembling, I pull out a long black maxi dress and manage to get it on in seconds.

  When I open the door, Dominic is only inches away from me. His eyes flick over me. He nods, then he picks up my bag and his before opening the door. “Let’s go.”

  His hand comes around my arm as I get within a few feet of him. I don’t bother trying to shake him off. Even though I hate my stupid damn body for the fine tremors that go through me all over again at his touch. “What time is it?”

  “Almost three.” I stop in shock. “I wasn’t expecting it either. I’m usually up by one.” A shrug as he scans the long row of food places along the busy stretch of road. “I hate fast food, but Starbucks works for me. They serve breakfast all day and I need coffee. Okay?”

  I nod, hungrier than I thought I was when I woke up. In less than ten minutes we’re back on the interstate.

  His phone goes off with a text message. He checks it with an annoyed glance. He doesn’t try to respond, just sets it back in the center console.

  Finished, I collect the trash and put it into the bag the food came in. As I do I see the file about Richard on the floorboard at my feet. It’s still where it had fallen when Dominic tossed it at me last night. I have no idea why I hesitate to pick it up.

  Opening it, the pictures of the brutally beaten woman shock me even more than they did last night. It’s the second mug shot that sends anguish through me. I hadn’t seen it last night, but in the photo there is a scratch down Richard’s neck. The memory flares hot and bright of seeing him with the scratch. He blamed it on his niece—they were roughhousing, he explained when I asked him about it.

  “This isn’t fake.” The words fall from numb lips.

  “No.”

  I throw it in the backseat with force, desperate not to have to see it again. Closing my eyes, I lean against the window. All those lies, no wonder Dominic thought I was an idiot. One after another, I see everything I ignored in my desperate need to believe Richard loved me, that someone loved me.

  “He was good, with Benny at his side, I can understand why you fell for it.”

  A bitter laugh is out before I can stop it. “Yeah, right. You were right. I was desperate for...”

  I feel Dominic’s eyes on me but refuse to look his way. God, I just want to curl up and die. How stupid and foolish could any one person be?

  “It happens, princess, to all of us. Everyone at one time or another trusts, believes in someone we shouldn’t. You learn from it and you move on.”

  His words are so like the ones he spoke in the hotel room. “The person you trusted tried to kill you?”

  “Yeah, and if I’d listened to the man who saved my life I would never have so much as walked away with a bruise. I was young and dumb, so sure I knew what I was doing. My scars are visible, yours aren’t. They will heal, eventually.”

  “Can you please go back to being an asshole? It’s easier to deal with you that way.”

  His laugh fills the car. “Give me a minute, I’m still finishing my coffee.”

  I catch myself smiling at the sound, chest clenching at the sight of those dimples. Something tells me he doesn’t laugh much—his laughter has a tinge of rustiness to it. There are no deep smile or laugh lines on his gorgeous face. I try to remember the men talking about him, until I catch myself. Stop it, Regina. Lull him into thinking you’ve given up, but don’t you dare give up for real.

  In the light of day, I study the car. “Why did you rent an old car like this?”

  “I didn’t rent it. It was going to be a birthday present for Pop. After the shit he pulled I’m thinking I’ll keep it for myself.”

  “Your father is the one behind this?”

  “While I have no doubt it was Johnny’s idea, Pop could have shut him down.” He shakes his head. “Pop has been on me the last year or so about the marriage thing. My cousins one by one have gotten married over the last few years. They’re popping out kids left and right, and Pop is knee deep in it all and loving it.”

  “Really?” I struggle to picture a man who went on a killing spree of six men in a week bouncing babies on his knee.

  He sighs. “My grandfather was big into family, very involved and passed it on to his two kids. Pop always wanted a big family. For a long time it was just the two of us after Anthony died. He had a woman, then one day she was gone. It fucked with him.”

  It’s clear his father’s pain also affected Dominic. They are clearly close.

  “Che, my cousin, kind of saved him from drowning in misery. His woman was going through something, Che needed help from Pop on an issue. After Pop helped out the invitations kept coming. Pop saw how lonely Alicia was, recognizing it in himself, I think. At first it was an occasional visit during the day, he worked with her on her Italian. Then he was there a few times a week helping her with the baby. Now he’s Nonno and loving it.”

  “How many cousins do you have?” I hate how wistfully the words come out of me.

  “Three, all men, all billionaires. If you think I’m an asshole, wait until you meet them. It runs in the family.”

  “Billionaires as in B?”

  A nod. “B as in billion, the property game for Che and Dante and the market for Enzo. They aren’t greedy bastards though, they put their money to good use. Enzo even went all Mr. Mom once his wife, Chloe, had their baby.”

  He shakes his head. Unease fills me at the expression on his face.

  “Let me guess, you don’t want to be a Mr. Mom?” />
  I watch him go still, as he considers the question. My stomach drops, he doesn’t want kids. It’s all over him. “No. When the time comes, I’ll try and be a good dad.” The words ring false, I have known him less than twenty-four hours. It makes no sense how I know he’s lying, especially when he’s doing it so damn well. “I’ll change diapers and feed him or her, but no to Mr. Mom.”

  “How many kids do you want?” I force a fake smile to the question.

  His eyes are glued to the road. “Never thought about it.”

  Liar.

  “However many you want works for me. You’re the one who has to make them. Which after seeing my cousins go through things, I found out is harder than most people think. You can make all the plans you want when it comes to having kids, then life happens.”

  “What happened?” Finally, he’s honest for a brief moment.

  A shrug. “There were issues.”

  Something tells me those issues were painful ones. Were those issues why he didn’t want kids? “But you want to wait. How long again?”

  “I don’t think two years or so is that long of a wait. You’re young still, only twenty-two.”

  He says “twenty-two” with a grimace. I remember Richard’s weird moment on the phone, the way he seemed to get off on my youth and inexperience. God, I was so fucking stupid. How stupid am I that I wish I couldn’t see Dominic so clearly right now? Will he agree in the end or back out once the two years are up? If I thought there was a chance of us actually making it two years, I would ask him. Only I don’t, so it doesn’t matter. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to turn the screws on him. “What if I said I wanted five kids?”

  No reaction. I close my eyes; how the hell can I read him, yet never saw Richard for what he was?

  “If that’s how many you want then that’s how many we’ll have. For now though, are you on birth control?”

  I shake my head. “No, Rich—I was promised everything I said I wanted. I’m guessing to keep me happy and stupid.”