by Nora Flite
“I'm yours,” I say, because right then, I'll tell him anything he wants. The muscles in my lower belly tense, screaming for release. I need to climax so badly.
His thumb strokes my clitoris from top to bottom, unzipping me. I feel myself come undone. He turns me to kiss him, not caring any longer if I'm watching in the mirror. He knows what I know; it doesn't matter if I watch. This is burned into my mind forever.
I moan against him, his fingers speeding up, moving in quick circles on my pussy. The heat inside of me blooms, a maddening rush all heading down towards my inner walls until finally, I groan into his open mouth and come.
I shudder, nearly collapsing as he holds me up. I've never felt anything like this; the pleasure is immense. It blinds me, steals my ability to hear myself. The fog in my brain takes some time to lift, but through it, I hear him groaning as well. His cock is violently hard against my ass cheeks.
“Dominic,” I whisper.
He pulls away, looking into my eyes. His are hooded, the molasses color dangerously crisp. “Leave,” he says.
“What?” His sudden seriousness clears my head like a bucket of cold water has been poured on me.
He pulls my dress up to hide my breasts; I wrap my arms around the top to keep it from falling down. “Get out of here right now, this is a warning. If you don't leave through that door in the next five seconds I'm going to push you against this mirror and I'm going to fuck you from behind, and I won't care that you're a virgin.”
I'm intrigued—I'm scared. I don't know what I am. His face says that he's not joking. And the tent in his pants is huge and threatening. Maybe more than his words are. Even though I've orgasmed, my pussy cries out at the thought of being filled by him. I don't even know what that would be like, just that my body wants it.
I can feel his tendrils sinking into my blood. But as tempted as I am to go all the way with Dominic, he's giving me an out. I have to take it because I'm just not ready. He's changing me, and until I know the consequences of this transformation, I can't let myself go all the way.
Without another word, I turn and run from my own bedroom.
- Chapter 20 -
Dominic
I need her.
I need her.
I need her.
I know I shouldn't. I'm sure resisting is still the best course.
But I don't care anymore.
She spoke the words.
Claimed she was mine.
Now it's the truth.
I need her.
- Chapter 21 -
Laiken
“A dry run?” I ask, strolling through the halls with Mellie.
“It's just to get a feel for the atmosphere.” She drags her feet as she walks, and it makes her hair constantly frizz with static. I remind myself to be careful if she tries to touch me, she's already shocked me once. “It'll only be you and me.”
I nod slowly, but now she's got me wondering. “Do you have a list of who's coming to this event?”
She watches me with one eye. “Master Silas told me to keep that from you.”
“What, why?”
“I don't know. I'm sure he has a reason, and I'm not getting in the way of it.”
The reason becomes obvious. He doesn't trust me, he must think there's a way I could use that information. Use it for what, to escape? Does he still think I'd try? Running away has been pushed to the back of my mind. I want to save myself, but I've been assuming Silas wasn't lying about having my family in his clutches.
Fleeing would harm them.
“Then tell me this,” I say, rounding on her outside the ballroom doors. “Are there at least some important people coming? Big names, very rich, you know the type.”
She chews at the corner of her mouth. I press on, sensing her sympathy. “Mellie, this party going well is possibly life or death for me. A huge part of that is making sure that some of the guests will be notoriously well known. Please, just blink twice for yes.”
“Stop,” she sighs. “No one is listening in on us.” She gestures around the empty hallway. “I'll say this, but you didn't hear it from me. Got it?” I nod enthusiastically. “Yes, there are some massively wealthy people who have RSVP'd to this event.”
I fan my fingers over my heart. “Thank goodness.”
“Now quit playing around and focus. Those ‘big names’ as you called them are used to grand parties. We need everything to be perfect.”
That word swirls in my mind. It stays stamped there as I scan the wide room with its polished floors, domed high ceiling with gold metal accents, and sconces that give the place a fairytale glow. Perfection is my goal. Perfection consumes me like an itch I have to scratch.
Perfection is the word of the day when Dominic strolls into the ballroom.
My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. He's adjusting the buttons on a silver vest, a jacket framing his chest like a pair of open black curtains. He sees me as I see him, and he ingests the fascination in my unguarded stare before I can hide it away.
“Master Dominic,” Mellie says, heading to meet him by the entrance. “Is there a problem with the suit I left you?”
He hasn't stopped staring at me. The ghost of a smirk appears on his face. I'm freed of his ravenous eyes when he looks down at Mellie. “It's almost perfect. The vest is just a little tight.”
“Let me see,” she says, moving behind him. She deftly removes his jacket, vanishing behind his muscular torso and legs. I can hardly see her. There's nothing standing between us, now - nothing but air that swims with tension.
I wish I'd stop gawking like a drooling idiot, but... he's magnificent. The suit is tailored to his body expertly. With the jacket gone the vest hugs his broad chest. Mellie toys with the back, then undoes the buttons. “You're right,” she says, “It’s tight. I'll fix it quickly. What about the color?”
He shrugs.
“Never mind,” she huffs. “Let's ask a feminine eye. Laiken?”
I blink. “Hmm?”
Mellie gestures at Dominic with the vest in her hands. “How does he look? Good?”
Good isn't the right word. It's not strong enough. It’s a pale excuse for describing the experience that is Dominic's fit body in a crisp black suit. With the silver vest gone, his coal-black button-down is one layer closer to the naked skin beneath. Long sleeves hide the tattoos snaking over his arms, but I know they're there.
“He looks... great,” I say, my voice cracking. I shake myself out of my haze. “Very, very nice.”
Dominic grins, showing me a hint of sharp teeth. “Thank you.”
“Okay,” Mellie says, scrunching her button nose. “I'm glad you think so, but I was talking more about the color of his clothes, not how great he looks in them.”
My god, I've never blushed so hard. “Oh, uh. Well. That... is also nice. The color, I mean.” Fuck I'm so dumb.
Mellie rolls her eyes, handing the jacket back to him. “I'll fix the vest later. Can you do me a favor while you're here?”
“Of course,” he says.
“Go stand in the middle of the room. I want to get a sense of scale when people start arriving, the flow of the space and all that.”
The treads on his patent black shoes brush over the floor, like he weighs nothing. I never noticed how quietly he walks before.
“Yes, that's good,” Mellie says as she taps her chin. Dominic stands in the middle of the room like a flag that's been planted to claim a country. It's fitting, this is his estate after all. Thinking about him as a conqueror is natural.
He's playing along, but I can tell he's growing bored. His hands slide into his pockets, one leg partially bent. Soon, he'll probably start tapping his toe.
“Laiken?” Mellie asks. “Lighting looks good to you, right?”
I study the way the glow from the chandeliers paints his dark hair with bright golden highlights. “It looks perfect,” I whisper.
“Go over and stand near him,” she says dismissively. “One person isn't eno
ugh for me to get a full picture of the setting.”
I glance at her, then across at him. He watches me expectantly, waiting for my approach like he assumes it'll happen. Wyatt's message tickles at my memory. He made it very clear that it was in my best interest to stay as far away from Dominic as possible. Wyatt knows something that I don't, and whatever it is, it paints this man in a negative light. I trust Wyatt; I know I should heed his warning. Only an idiot wouldn't listen.
My idiotic feet carry me into Dominic's personal space.
The closer I get, the faster my heart beats. He's expressionless, barely smiling. I remember how he looked at me the night he returned to this property—like he loathed me. If he still acted like that, it would be much easier for me to resist him.
“Great,” Mellie yells across the room. Her voice echoes in the emptiness. “That's wonderful, you two look great.”
“Hear that?” Dominic whispers. “We look great.”
I say nothing and stare at the space just over Mellie’s head.
“I guess she doesn't need to tell me that though, you already did. Right?”
I bite down on my tongue so hard my eyes water.
“You look great, too,” he says gently. His tone gets raspier. “But you looked better yesterday in the mirror, with my hand owning your pussy.”
My body responds, reliving the memory of how he stroked my swollen clit until I came in his arms. “Stop it,” I hiss at him.
“You're thinking about it right now, aren't you? Remembering how good it felt, how nice it was to let go and let me take over, make your pussy sing for me. I can't stop thinking about it either, Laiken. Last night, God, I was so damn hard. I lay in bed jerking myself off three times before I finally fell asleep.”
Now I'm really thinking about it. His fist on his cock, a piece of him I still haven't seen. I have a vivid imagination and even though I can't picture it in detail, the idea of him touching himself while he thinks about me makes me breathe faster. I can taste the steam in the air around us.
“Focus,” I say seriously. “I'm trying to get work done here.”
“So am I.”
He's playing with me, and even if my body likes it, I need him to understand how much is riding on this party. “Dominic, you should leave. It was supposed to be just Mellie and me in here, anyway.”
“Am I distracting you?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.
Shaking my head, I walk away from him, quickly heading back towards Mellie. “All set?” I ask, unable to handle standing so close to that tempting man anymore.
She pulls out a notebook, writing something down. “I think so. I need to get this vest tailored to the right size, so we might as well end now. This is shaping up nicely though, it'll be the biggest event we've had in some time.”
Her eyes are sparkling. That makes me feel good, knowing that my plan to keep Annie off my back is having the side effect of making other people happy. “Do you need me to work on anything else?”
“Well, I was going to ask you to do one thing. I've seen you spending time down at the animal preserve, you're pretty close with Wyatt Jones, right?”
“Yeah, what would you need?”
“It was just an idea I had, one I wanted to run by you. We could buy some pinecones for rustic decorations to touch up this place, really add to the winter feel that your color scheme seems to be going for. But I know the preserve has a whole bunch of them on the ground by now. I wanted to ask Wyatt to give me some, but he already went home and the sky is looking a little cloudy. We can't use them if they're wet.”
“Say no more. Wyatt won't mind if I go in and gather some. How many do you need?”
She lights up with relief. “I think 50 should do it. You can probably fill up a plastic garbage bag and that would be perfect. Then I can have the staff glitter them up, then arrange them into centerpieces.”
“I can help,” Dominic says sidling up next to me.
“No.” I eye him nervously. “I can do this alone.”
Mellie squints at me. “Don't turn down an extra set of hands, let him help you gather pinecones. It'll be faster this way, we really don't have time to waste.”
My arguments go out the window. Next to me, Dominic reaches up like he's going to smooth his hair. Instead he rubs his thumb over his bottom lip. The thumb that drew obscene moans from my throat.
I know Mellie means well.
It's not her fault she has no idea she's sabotaging me.
- Chapter 22 -
Dominic
The sky overhead is slate gray greased with black splotches. Storm clouds are rolling in. The air has an electric charge to it. “We should hurry,” I say, noting the clouds.
She's ahead of me by a few feet—has been since we left the ballroom. It's the most polite running away anyone has ever performed. “This shouldn't take long,” she says as we approach the tall fence.
“How do you normally get in?” I ask, watching her as she hands the plastic garbage bag to me.
“Normally? Wyatt just lets me in. But I have an old shortcut that will work.” To my amazement, she grips the chain-link fence and begins to climb in her sneakers. I've seen her sprint like a pro, but she's just as good at climbing.
The tights clinging to her long legs leave nothing to the imagination. I'm grateful for my angle, I'm able to watch her muscles flex; her perfect, round ass looks amazing in those tights. She ascends the fence in seconds, her braid spinning behind her. When she crests the top she crouches, and my heart drops as she jumps to the grass below. She rolls gracefully, coming up like a circus performer. There's pride in her eyes and her smile when she looks at me through the metal wires.
I'm incredibly turned on by her athleticism. She opens the fence, letting me through. “That was amazing,” I say, and I mean it.
She smiles shyly, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “It's nothing. When I was little, my sister and I used to race to see who could climb trees the fastest.”
We walk through the preserve with Laiken leading the way. “It's only my second time ever being inside. The first time was because I'd been tossing a ball around by myself. It ended up getting over the fence. I met Wyatt that day, and he'd kindly let me inside, handed me the ball, and allowed me to look around.
I'd wanted to return after that. But then my mother had seen me leaving through the fence, meeting me in the front room of the house. She'd warned me to never dirty the preserve with my presence again. I'd taken her words to heart and kept my distance. Though she was never violent to me, Annie has always been intimidating.
Laiken scoops up a fat pinecone, tossing it to me. I catch it and put it in the bag. Mellie was right, there are tons of pinecones all over the ground. It doesn't take us long to fill the bag halfway. As we work, Laiken's long hair brushes over bushes, rubbing through patches of moss on rocks. She has to pick leaves out of it every time she bends down.
“Doesn't that bother you?” I ask. “It's got to get in the way constantly. I've never seen someone let their hair grow as long as you have. Especially someone who likes to spend so much time in the middle of a forest.”
She avoids my eyes, scooping up another pinecone. Turning it in her hand, she traces the gaps between the hard brown knobs. “On the day that I was taken away, I promised my sister I wouldn't cut my hair until we met again.”
I'm taken aback by her honest answer.
Laiken smiles fondly at the pinecone. “You must be thinking how ridiculous a promise that is. Well, even if it sounds silly, it means the world to me. Picturing Kara all grown up like me, as we stand head-to-head to see whose braid is longer? It keeps me going.”
The plastic bag crinkles as I crush it in my hand. The promise was surprising, but my reaction is more than that. What she's told me makes me understand something about the seed of our beginning; the day when I first met her and saved her from the maids with their pair of scissors.
I'd made my oath to her, that no one would touch he
r hair, because of a childish sense of heroism. I didn't know that I was helping her keep a promise - especially one to her sister.
Black guilt makes my bones heavy. The bag of pinecones pulls my arm towards the ground. Overhead, the clouds rumble. A gust of wind comes, bringing the smell of rain a split second before the leaves on the trees above start to rattle. “We finished just in time,” Laiken says. “We should head back.”
“Wait,” I say, and the word has a thousand meanings behind it. “How can you do it? How is it possible to keep your promise to someone for so long, with nothing to show for it? If anything, your promise is making your life harder. That hair of yours would be easier to deal with if you just cut it. So why? How can you be so fucking strong?” I furrow my eyebrows, my forehead joining it. Every part of me wants to fold in on itself. “You don't even know if your sister is alive.”
The words come out all wrong. I realize it, and so does she.
Raindrops make their way through the branches, slowed by the foliage, but still connecting with us. The water comes quicker and before she answers me, both of us are soaked. “Being strong is all I have,” she whispers. “I have to trust that this is all going to pay off. If I don't, what do I have left?”
“It doesn't scare you?” I ask, and there's a part of me that's upset that she can be so confident. “For all your hope, what if you're wrong? What if you never see her again, won't you feel awful? Like everything you did wasn't worth it?”
“Of course it's worth it!” She whips her head side to side. Water flings off of her hair from the motion. “Maybe you don't know me the way I thought you did. But you definitely don't know my mom, or my sister, or my dad. If you did, you'd realize that all of us are strong. Not just me. None of us give up. When we make a promise, we keep it.”