A Dominant Salvation (A Dominant Series Book 3)

by Lena Black

  He sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out for my hand, clasping it gently.

  “Angel, I could never despise you. I would be fucking terrible if I treated you with anything less than the respect and care you deserve. Besides, it’s natural to be unsure of your ability to take care of a growing life. Everyone feels that way at times. But it’s the fact that you care so much that tells me you’ll be the best mother.” He yanks me down onto his lap, enfolding his arms about my waist. “You’re my everything, Elle.”

  “I love you, Damian. I love that you accept me, scars and all.”

  I lean into him, setting my cheek on his wide shoulder, and take a cleansing breath. He sets his large hand over the side of my face and kisses my forehead with the most delicate touch. I feel better now that my fears are out in the open.

  Once I’m calm, he makes earth-erupting love to me until the early hours of morning. Beyond our bedroom window, city lights glitter like infinite flickering candle flames burning across the San Francisco skyline.

  Chapter Three

  Party of Two

  I’m up before Elle, showered, dressed, and fed, all before her stunning blue eyes greet the morning. I rouse her with kisses all over her neck and full, bare breasts.

  “These are my favorite kind of wakeup calls, slick,” she murmurs with a raspy, sleepy voice.

  Without lifting my head from her glorious breasts, I retort, “What can I say? I can’t keep my mouth off you.”

  I take her little pink nipple into my mouth, nipping and suckling on it until it’s ready to pop off. She writhes under me, grabbing and yanking on my hair when I suck just right.

  “I want you to fuck me, Damian,” she orders with a whimper. “Fuck me hard.”

  What I wouldn’t give to sink deep into her soft curves, bury myself within her the rest of the day. However, Maya and Chase are meeting us for brunch in about an hour, which leaves little to no time, and I won’t be rushed.

  “We don’t have the time, angel. You have to get up and ready to leave.” I glance down at my Cartier watch. “You have thirty minutes.”

  “Shit. I forgot,” she says, placing her hands over her face.

  “It’s raining and chilly. Make sure you wear something warm. I don’t want you underdressed.”

  She looks out the window to confirm, spotting the gloomy, wet weather, and sighs. “I’ll be ready soon.”

  She weakly rolls over and crawls out of bed, shuffling toward the bathroom.

  We enter the bistro around ten and find they’re late as usual. Not wanting to wait for them, we’re seated at a small table in the back of the quaint neighborhood café. The late-morning crowd’s chatter hums throughout the cozy dining room, giving the atmosphere a liveliness.

  We settle in, waiting for the rest of our table to arrive. I take the time to watch Elle as she studies her menu or glances at the door to see if she can spot them first. Her tempting mix of spicy and sweet, seductive and innocent is inebriating. I’ll never understand how I manage to control myself around her. Truthfully, I always believed I had complete control over my depraved desires and myself…until I met her. She has been a true test of my training and years of experience. From patience to restraint, whether hers or my own, this woman has challenged me on every level.

  “What?” she asks, a wrenched look on her face, and I realize I’ve been staring.

  “I was admiring the way that sweater fits you.” Her newly filled-out figure causes clothes to cling to her curves, highlighting her assets splendidly. However, I’ve noted other men noticing more recently as well. “Perhaps it’s time for a new wardrobe.”

  She looks down at her dark gray sweater and white pants, which also hugs nicely to her plump ass and wide hips. I’m going to grab onto those bad boys and pound her little pussy until she’s senseless.

  “I don’t need a new wardrobe,” she comments. “I need to lose a few pounds.”

  “I rather enjoy your body.”

  I see her gearing up to grill me, but I’m miraculously saved by Maya and Chase as they walk toward the table hand in hand, smiling like morons.

  “We’re late, I know,” Maya says apologetically, leaning in to kiss Elle on the cheek, “but traffic was terrible, and we couldn’t find the car keys. It was a big mess. Have you ordered yet?”

  “Not yet,” Elle answers as our waiter appears to take our drink order.

  “What may I get you today?” he asks with a cheerful grin.

  Cahill goes first. “I’d like a mimosa with pineapple juice instead of orange. Please.”

  “Oh, I’ll have the same,” Maya adds.

  “And for you, Miss?” our server asks Elle, glimpsing down occasionally for an eyeful of her breasts…my breasts.

  “Missus,” I correct him with a cool glare. “And she’ll have the cappuccino, and I’ll take a cup of black coffee.”

  Gabrielle glances at me. She must not have noticed his ogling. She seldom does.

  “What was that about?” she whispers once the overzealous waiter takes his leave.

  I raise my brow at her. “I don’t appreciate when other men get an eyeful of my wife.”

  I can see the delighted gleam in her eyes, a gaze that reveals pleasure in my possession.

  “Let them stare,” she says with a smirk and leans into me, placing her hand high on my thigh. “I like being watched.”

  I shoot her a satisfied grin, wrapping my arm about her waist and holding her at my side, right where she belongs.

  Elle

  After brunch, we sip on coffee and allow our meals to digest. During, Chase and Maya are extremely affectionate toward one another, bordering on nauseating. At least more than normal anyway.

  “What is going on with you two?” I pry, raising the coffee cup to my lips.

  Maya blushes a vibrant shade of red and glances to Chase at her side. He throws his arm about her shoulder and pulls her into him, kissing the side of her head.

  I won’t lie. I’m obviously happy his affections have moved on to my sister, and from the look of things, it’s going really well.

  “We have a little announcement,” Chase answers for them.

  “We got married!” Maya yelps, holding her hand out to show off the rock on her finger.

  “What?!” I exclaim, grabbing onto it for a closer look.

  “I know, right?” She giggles, her eyes crinkling in the corners from the oversized smile stretching her perfectly glossed lips.

  “How could you get married?” Her glee fades, and she pulls her hand out of mine. “You hardly know one another! Who marries someone they’ve only been with for a few short months?”

  The table goes quiet, and the joy drains from their faces. I feel Damian remove his arm from my shoulder, but don’t think much of it.

  “That was harsh,” Maya says with an offended stare.

  “Look,” I murmur, ready to do damage control, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “It’s not our feelings you should be concerned with, Ellie,” Chase says, nodding his head at Damian beside me. When I peek over at him, the look on his face both kills and terrifies me.

  “Does that go for everyone at this table, Gabrielle?” he inquires through taut lips, visibly trying to hold back his anger.

  Shit!

  Shit!

  Why did I say that?!

  “Damian, I…”

  “I think it’s time to leave,” Hunt interrupts. And, no, I’m not referring to Damian. There, in the depths of the emerald pools, I see him lurking, watching me through the same eyes as my loving husband. But this is not my loving husband, this is someone much darker.

  “What did you mean back there?” Hunt asks, gripping the steering wheel firmly. He’s fighting himself, holding back the beast within so to speak.

  “I wasn’t thinking, Damian.”

  “Unacceptable, Gabrielle,” Hunt says through gritted teeth, clamped so tight he may crack one.

  This part of him would’ve petrified me
to the core at one point. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still anxious and uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t have had the nerve to do what I’m about to do. I place my hand in his hair and run my fingers through.

  “I didn’t mean us. You and I, we’re different, Hunt.”

  His teeth unclench, but his jaw remains rigid, the muscles twitching. “Go on.”

  “We’ve been to hell and back for each other. We’ve sacrificed so much to get to the point we’re at today. They haven’t dealt with the kinds of things we have. Hunt, no one will ever love each other the way we do.”

  “Do you mean that, Elle?” he asks in that deep voice, so strong and yet so tender. His jaw goes slack, eyes focused on the road, but I can see his urge to look into mine.

  “With everything I am, slick.”

  “It fucking killed me,” he admits, anger shifting to sadness. He lets out a long exhale, relaxing back into his seat, but I still see the grief etched into his face. Even when his body hides his feelings, his eyes never lie. I hate seeing him hurt.

  I have a risky idea, one that may get me a red backside later, but it’s worth a try.

  I loosen my restraint and shift in my seat, tucking my legs under my rear. I rise a little onto my knees and reach over for his fly.

  “What are you doing, Elle? Get back in your...” Before he can argue, I free him from his trousers and plunge my mouth onto his cock, silencing him instantly. The only sounds coming out of his mouth the rest of the drive home were breathy groans.

  “What about this one?” Maya asks, holding up a lavender blouse.

  I called her last night, asking her to meet me for a day of shopping on me. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist a shopping trip, especially a free one.

  “That’s cute. I like it.”

  She adds it to the growing pile of things to try-on and then moves onto another rack. “Oh! What about this for you?”

  She shows me a pretty floral dress suitable for a garden party.

  “I own enough clothes, Maya. I told you, Hunt provides me with all of that.”

  “Is it a control thing?”

  I suppose, in his own controlling way, it’s just another outlet to show me he cares and always thinks of me.

  “Perhaps. I think he does it because he wants to give me so much. It makes him happy to dote on me, and I hate shopping so it works for both of us.”

  I shrug with a tilt of my head.

  Maya giggles.

  “I still can’t believe he’s…” She trails off when she notices a saleswoman near us and changes the topic. “Guess who I saw the other day…Marlena.”

  “Is that right? How is she?”

  “Flirtatious,” she murmurs, flushing.

  I chuckle and nod.

  “Yeah, she can be quite…charming.”

  “She certainly can. Anyway, she told me to tell you, ‘Hello, pet’.”

  “Well, I’ll be sure to call her.” There’s a reason I came shopping with Maya, as I loathe it to no end, but this was the only way I could get some alone time with her. I guess now was as good a time as any. “Maya.”

  “Yeah, sissy?”

  “I’m sorry about the other day. I feel awful for the mean things I said.”

  “It’s alright, Ellie. You didn’t mean any of it. You were just taken by surprise. Honestly, it shocks the hell out of me. I mean, I’m Mrs. Cahill.” She smiles to herself and blushes.

  “And I’m so happy for both of you.”

  “I know you are.” Her look of joy vanishes as she bites on the side of her mouth. “How did things go with D after all that?”

  “He wasn’t pleased. But I managed to explain things and he understood.”

  “Good. I felt horrible for him when I saw his face. He loves you so much, Ellie. The way he looks at you and talks about you. It’s like there’s only you, like his world begins and ends with you. He’s…intense.”

  “Yes, intense is a fitting word for Hunt.”

  After we clean out a couple more boutiques and grab lunch, I head home to Damian. I miss him. I always miss him, even when I’m with him.

  “Slick?!” I call out as I set some bags down on the couch in the main room. I actually bought a few things for myself. Well, actually they’re more for Hunt.

  “I’m up here, angel,” he calls back from what sounds like his office. I head up and find him on his laptop, banging away at the keyboard. He doesn’t notice me until I kick off my shoes and sit in the leather chair in front of his desk, curling my legs up into my chest.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Work.” He smirks at me. “I do have to work, Gabrielle. How else would I keep up with your ravenous lust for material things?”

  “You know me, baby, all about the money,” I joke back, grinning widely.

  “Did you have fun shopping with your sister?”

  “I did, actually. I apologized for the other day.”

  “That’s my girl.” The proud gleam in his eyes makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. “And all is well again?”

  “Yes, we’re good. She also mentioned she saw Marlena recently.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. She called a few days ago to invite us to a party at The Manor in a few weeks for Christmas. I told her we would attend.”

  “Sounds like fun. She does throw one hell of a shindig.”

  “Excellent.” He runs his fingers through his hair, leaning back in his chair. “She seemed eager to see you again. You’ve had quite the effect on her, kitten,” he teases.

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “Excuse me? Mrs. Hunt, did you just tell me to shut up?” The light in his eyes dims to a dark, sinister stare. “That wasn’t very smart of you.”

  “What are you going to do, punish me?” I joke, smiling impishly at him. He laughs and shakes his head.

  “I just might, Gabrielle. Don’t tempt me.”

  Rising out of my chair, I casually stroll around to the side of his desk and set my hands flat on the smooth wooden surface. With a drawn-out moan, I stretch myself out across the top so my ass hangs over the edge.

  “Maybe that’s exactly what I want to do,” I confess with a wicked smirk.

  He sits back in his chair, his face unreadable, and pinches his chin between his thumb and pointer finger, rubbing them over his dark stubble.

  “Are you trying to take control, Gabrielle?” he asks.

  I can’t tell whether or not he’s amused by my assertiveness.

  “A little,” I admit with a whisper of a voice, biting down on my bottom lip, my eyes wide and searching.

  I know the innocent act turns him, so I ham it up a bit.

  His face remaining unyielding as stone, he suddenly reaches out with remarkable speed and hooks his hand about my hip, hauling me across the desk. I am now bent over in front of him, my ass for the taking.

  I’m panting already.

  His fingers slip under the waist of my pants and then they’re gone, crumpled about my ankles along with my panties. I let out a breathy whimper.

  I don’t dare look back at him. I don’t want to. I enjoy not knowing what he’s about to do to me.

  I’m rewarded with the abrupt sting of his hand on both cheeks, causing a delicious throbbing between my thighs.

  “You’re a very, very bad girl, Mrs. Hunt.”

  “Yes, Mr. Hunt,” I agree.

  “Do you know what happens to girls who don’t behave?”

  “Tell me.”

  There’s faint movement behind me and then his hand is gripping my hair, yanking it back hard enough for my face to lift from the desktop. His wide chest presses into my back and his very erect cock shoves into my exposed rear.

  “They get fucked,” he growls into my ear, “fast and rough.”

  I shove myself back with a loud moan, grinding into his hard cock. Removing his hand from my hair, he rips himself away. I’m so disoriented, it takes me a moment to gather what happened.

  “I’d love to play,” he says with a self-satis
fied tone, “but we must get ready for tonight’s gala.”

  “That was a power play, wasn’t it?” I ask, thoroughly ticked off.

  He walks out from behind me and utters, “Don’t mess with a Master, angel,” striding toward the door

  “You bastard!” I holler, throwing the nearest thing I can grab off his desk in his direction as he exits the room. I flop back over the desk, every part of me pulsing with arousal. Even after that, I still want him desperately.

  Damn my body. Fucking traitor.

  We attend a gala at The Fairmont’s Garden Court. It’s an enormous venue with a steel and glass ceiling, an ornate royal purple carpet, large crystal chandeliers dangling overhead, and tan marble columns with black veins. The epitome of old world elegance.

  It’s a black-tie affair, attended by politicians and other wealthy socialites of San Francisco. I absolutely hate coming to these things, but it’s a necessary evil when you’re married to one of the world’s most powerful men.

  We’re sitting at the table with a few senators and a governor, talking ‘politics’ and eating dinner. The one decent thing about the evening this far is the food. It should be at a hundred and fifty thousand dollars a plate.

  I still wonder if I’ll get accustomed to this life, the wealth, the parties, the tabloids. Every other week, the internet is drowning in rumors of our marriage.

  I honestly can’t keep my attention on any of this seemingly scripted conversation about the table. It’s always the same repeated, dull banter you hear at all these functions. I simply sit at his side, as a shiny trophy wife should, smiling, eyes aglitter, pretending to hang on to his every word. I know it’s all a part of an image, so I happily play the role while we attend these things. God knows I’m anything but shiny when we’re at home.

  While Hunt chats it up with one of the many faceless politicians, I glance about the room, nodding and smiling every now and then to simulate attentiveness. It’s not that I don’t follow politics or have an interest in fiscal matters. I simply can’t stand all that phony nonsense.