A Dominant Salvation (A Dominant Series Book 3)

by Lena Black

  He releases me, combing his fingers through his messy hair and putting himself back together.

  “Let me help you work off some of that stress.” I trace my finger over the mound of my cleavage. “Kevin can wait.”

  “He’s the top trainer in the city. I can’t waste his time, Gabrielle.” His eyes scan me up and down. “No matter how much I want to.”

  “I understand.” I fix my ruffled blouse and adjust my uncontained breasts back into my bra. Damian’s eyes remain trained on them with an animalistic gleam.

  “I’d love if you’d join me,” he suggests, licking his lips with an obvious hunger.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs, slick.”

  By the time I dress and walk down to the gym, Hunt and Kevin are well within their session, their skin slick with sweat. Damian is focused on his opponent, throwing jabs and kicks like a professional MMA fighter. He clearly has the upper hand until his eyes flick in my direction and catch a peek of my workout clothes, a pair of ass-hugging short shorts and a sports bra so thin it hardly constitutes a training bra.

  Noticing Hunt’s slip in attention, Kevin decks him square in the jaw and knocks him on his ass. I giggle to myself, beyond pleased at his reaction to my choice in attire.

  “Maybe we should take a breather,” Kevin suggests, offering him a hand as Damian massages his lower face and stares me down.

  “I’m fine,” he insists.

  I move over to the touchscreen on the opposite side of the room and pick a song from my workout playlist, Mz. Hyde by Halestorm. I glimpse back at him from over my shoulder, an impish smirk kinking my lips and a challenging look darkening my eyes.

  Once I’ve stretched and warmed up on the treadmill, during which, he continually watched me with predator-like focus, I move to the weight training machines. I choose the one that looks like it was made for a playroom. It spreads the thighs open wide. It’s my favorite because I can work my arms and legs at the same time, but it also drives Hunt fucking wild.

  Once his session is over, the entire time spent sneaking glances and getting his cute butt pummeled, Damian sees Kevin to the door.

  “Same time next week?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” Damian says, nearly shoving him out of the doorway.

  “Bye, E…” Hunt slams the door, cutting him off, and locks it, his eyes menacing and glued to mine. I stare back at him, frozen, with my legs spread open.

  He walks to the touchscreen on the wall and hits a few buttons.

  The dark keys of a piano builds over the speakers.

  Oh, fuck.

  Nine Inch Nails.

  When he chooses them, it means one thing, I’ll be walking funny for the next few days.

  “Are you pleased with yourself, Gabrielle?”

  He collects a pair of jump ropes off a hook and palms them, his knuckles white from gripping them so tightly. Walking over to me with a lithe gait, he hangs them on the bar of the free weights nearby.

  “Excuse me?” I gulp the dry lump in my throat down.

  “You think I didn’t recognize this blatant declaration?” he asks, reaching out and plucking at the thin strap of my flimsy sports bra. “Do you enjoy riling me up?”

  “Yes,” I answer honestly.

  I start to move my hands off the handles at the sides of my head.

  “Keep them there,” he orders, and I obey.

  He vanishes behind my machine and does something to the weights, the rattle of metal against metal ringing out. I attempt to close my thighs, but they don’t budge an inch. While I’m focused on my immobile legs, the rough fibers of rope entrap my right wrist to the handle next to my head.

  “Do you want to play, angel?” he asks as he binds me to the machine.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once he inspects his handiwork, he moves around the machine and stands before me, a paragon of masculine beauty, his shorts riding low on his hips until the defined, tapered lines of his V appears, the Adonis belt. Aptly named on him.

  “You know, Gabrielle,” he pinches my chin with his strong fingers, “we really need to work on your communication.” My forehead crinkles, a deep V forming over the bridge of my nose. “Why did I learn my wife is unsatisfied from someone other than her?”

  “I’m satisfied.”

  He gives me one of those chastising, under-the-brow looks.

  “Clearly, that isn’t the case.” He releases my face. “If it were, you wouldn’t have expressed otherwise to your new best friend.”

  Shit.

  Brooke.

  She must’ve blabbed to Wade.

  A few months back, Damian hired him as the company’s head attorney. They’d gone out for drinks last night. I’m sure two successful, worldly gentlemen could think of a number of topics to discuss over a drink, but, let’s face it, Doms or not, they’re men, and men talk sex, compare notes and whatnot.

  I’m going to flog her ass within an inch of its life when I get my hands on her.

  I cast my eyes to his sneakers, his feet spread apart at shoulder width. “With everything, it didn’t seem important enough.”

  He scoops his finger under my jaw, jerking my face to look up at his. “There’s nothing more important than us, than you.”

  “Are you going to discipline me now?”

  “No, Gabrielle.” He stoops over till our lips nearly meet, his hands coming to rest on my extended thighs. “I’m going to fuck you.”

  I let out an inaudible noise, something between a squeak and a whimper.

  He squats down, balancing the weight of his massive body on the balls of his feet, his eyes honing in on my crotch.

  “It appears we missed something in our sweep of the apartment.” He sticks his finger into an unnoticed hole in my shorts, the tip grazing my pulsing lips. “Well, these are ruined.”

  He shoves another digit into the tear, spreading them apart until the material gives under the pressure with a loud rip. A burst of chilled air assaults my pussy, heightening my awareness to its exposure.

  “Your pussy is exquisite,” he compliments, his finger skimming the sensitive fleshy folds. “Tell me what you want.”

  He dips the tip in, lightly playing with my clit.

  “I want you,” I answer through my panting.

  “Not good enough,” he says, ripping the cups of my sports bra down under my breasts, hoisting them up. My nipples react instantly to the chilly gym air, hardening until they’re about to rocket off.

  “I want you,” he leans forward, “to tell me exactly,” flicking the erect buds with his tongue, “how you like to be fucked.” He takes the entire thing into his warm mouth, suctioning his lips around the pebbled flesh.

  Adjusting himself onto his knees and yanking down his shorts under his ass, his thick cock springs free.

  He grasps the thick shaft with his hand, guiding it toward my uncovered slit and sinking the head between the lips. He runs the tip along the length of my pussy, over the hardening bud of my clit. He lines the head of his cock with my opening and applying enough pressure to spread me open, but not enough to break the surface.

  “How do you want me, Elle?”

  He probes my entrance, immersing himself just enough for me to want more, and then pulls back out. It’s fucking maddening. I want him so bad my body trembles with need.

  “Tell me,” he growls, pushing himself inside again, going a little deeper than before, the head of his steel cock throbbing against my G-spot.

  “I want you to fuck me hard,” I answer, my voice shaking from arousal.

  “You like being tied and fucked, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I pant, my breasts heaving from the strained, forced breaths ripping through my body.

  “Say it,” he orders through gritted teeth.

  “I like being tied up and fucked,” I cry, desperate for him to complete his descent.

  “That’s my girl,” he praises, thrusting himself forward and burying his cock hilt-deep in my softness with a single motion. I gasp
at the superb burn of him cramming and stretching me. He stills before rearing back and slamming into me again, repeating the agonizing rhythm, slowly quickening the pace with every drive until he relentlessly pounds into me, his sack wildly slapping against my ass. My hands squeeze the padded handlebars for dear life as he builds me up, physically, emotionally, mentally, continually hitting my G-spot over and over, pummeling my pussy raw.

  “Oh, God,” I scream, my back bowing and every muscle from head to toe constricting. “I’m going to cum!” I yank on my restraints, yearning badly to touch him.

  With one more delectable thrust, I explode, stars forming behind my eyes. My body violently shakes as my orgasm tears me up from the inside out.

  “Ah, fuck,” he moans, hot bursts of his cum surging deep inside my womb.

  Still buried inside me, he reaches up and releases my hands from their binds. They fall limply at my sides, tingling as blood flows back into the deadened limbs.

  Removing himself from me, he scoops me into his arms and brings me into his lap, cradling me against his half-naked body on the floor of the gym as I come back down to earth from the incredible high.

  “I love you,” I whisper breathlessly, my head resting on his broad shoulder, and my heavy arms barely hanging about his neck.

  “I love you, Elle,” he kisses the top of my head, “with everything I am.”

  .

  Chapter Eleven

  Moving On

  The next weekend, Maya, Chase, Damian, and I drive to my family’s vineyard, the air heavy with sullen silence. I’d hoped to show Damian someday, but not like this, not saying goodbye to my childhood.

  It’s raining. It has rained the entirety of the drive, which feels fitting for the occasion. Selling this place is like losing my father all over again, or a piece of him, anyway.

  When the cobblestone wall and grand iron gate comes into view, an ache grips my heart. We turn onto the long gravel driveway, lined by large oak trees. On a dark, cloudy day like today, it makes the tunnel they create nearly impossible to see in. A dim, gray light guides us to the end and into the courtyard of the Mediterranean revival manor, like something you might find in the Italian countryside.

  The instant I step out of the car, I’m greeted by the pungent, clean sent of roses and wet soil. My father planted dozens of rose bushes in the courtyard when he bought the place. He loved getting his hands dirty. I guess that’s why he enjoyed this place so much.

  I snap out of my reveries when Hunt’s hand grasps my shoulder supportively.

  “Are you alright, angel?”

  My head wobbles from side to side as I consider this question.

  “Not really.”

  Once I’ve gone through my room, I walk down to the cellar, going through the aisles of wine my father made and collected over the years. He’s in every aspect of this place, right down to the grapes. I’m sad to let it go. It’s like we’re letting him go.

  Life changes so fast.

  I locate a cool spot in the back and take a deep breath. As I’m taking solace in the depths of the house, Hunt turns the corner.

  “There you are,” he says, a smile spreading the naturally tight line of his lips.

  “I needed a moment to myself.”

  “How are you taking this?”

  “It’s hard.” I run my fingers through my hair and lean back against the cool stone wall.

  “I imagine so.” He looks around the cellar. “This must’ve been a great place to grow up. I’d like to raise our children in a place like this.” My eyes fall from his, dropping to the floor. I gnaw at my upper lip. My feet play footsie with themselves. “I know the idea of kids scares you at this point in our relationship, but I don’t mean we have to have them tomorrow.”

  “No, um. It’s not that.”

  “What’s the matter, angel?”

  “I…” I take a deep breath, stalling for time, trying to figure out how I’m going to tell him I’m barren. “Do you remember I went to have a physical, for the insurance?”

  “Yes,” he mutters, his hands moving to my upper arms. “Elle, are you alright. You aren’t sick, are you?”

  “No, I’m healthy…sort of. It depends on how you look at it.”

  “Elle, spit it out.”

  “The doctor told me the chances of me becoming pregnant are slim to none.”

  He stares at me for an awkwardly tense moment, his eyes and face unreadable. I’d give anything to know what’s racing through his brilliant mind right now. I know he wants children. He’s been clear about it from the beginning. When we talk about kids, it’s not if but when. I’m terrified of how he sees me right now. In some way, I feel like half a woman. I know being a woman has nothing to do with your ability to bear a child, but you’ve been denied of a basic female right. It’s why we put up with monthly visits and cramps and puberty, so one day, we can decide what we wish to do with our bodies. It’s one thing to decide it for yourself. It’s something altogether different when you were never given the goddamn choice.

  “If you don’t say something soon, I’m going to scream,” I tell him, my lids shut, my voice trembling with fear.

  “Did she discuss why she came to this conclusion?”

  “Well, there are two reasons. She said my parents’ inability to conceive is a factor. However, it’s the trauma my body experienced in my time with Nicholas.” There’s something about verbalizing the situation that makes it real. My gaze shifts from his as the gravity of reality seeps into my psyche. “Apparently, I’m scarred on the inside as well.”

  “Don’t,” he orders. “Don’t say that about yourself. You have to be strong, Elle. She said it wasn’t impossible, only a slim chance.”

  “I’m trying to be, but I need to prepare for the greater chance it won’t happen.”

  “We, Gabrielle.” He takes my hands in his. “We’re in this together.”

  It’s strange. Doesn’t feel that way.

  “I’m,” I choke on my words, indescribable sadness rising in my chest. My head falls back against the stone wall behind me, tears forming in my eyes like dew on a blade of grass. “I’m so sorry, Damian,” I cry out, my body jolting from the violent tears.

  “Don’t you dare apologize for this either. Do you understand me? This is not your fault, you did not choose this, you did not ask for it.”

  “What if I did?”

  “How could you have?”

  “For years, I was uncertain whether or not I wanted to me a mother. A part of me thought it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I never had kids. But then I met you, and they seemed possible. What if years of putting that negativity out there caused it to happen?”

  “Gabrielle, when they tell people to envision what they want, it’s not because by simply thinking it will make it reality. It’s for the motivation to seek out and work for that vision. You did not bring this on yourself.”

  “Do you see me differently? I was so scared to tell you. I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

  “We have a nasty habit of underestimating each other, angel. You will always be my Elle, the woman who captivated me. The woman who never let me have my way, no matter how hard I fought it. You’ll always be the woman who saved me. What we have, it’s not something you give up on. Ever. We will get through this. We will figure it out…together.”

  “Damian,” I whisper, wet trails of salty water drying on my cheeks. I bring my hand up into his hair, and he lets me pull his mouth down onto mine, open and eager. I need to feel anything but the pain in my heart. I kiss him with purpose, my tongue diving deep into his mouth, greeted by a welcomed moan from his throat. His hands find my back and hold me close to his hard torso, anchoring me to him. I welcome the distraction my husband’s mouth brings me. It never fails to make me feel drunk with love and passion.

  He breaks away from me, short, harsh breaths forced from between his pinked lips. He licks them. I want him even more.

  “We shouldn’t do this here,” he says,
but I can tell he’s fighting himself. He wants it as much as me. I really admire his control over himself. But in this moment, I want him. Self-control be damned.

  “Oh, I think this is the perfect place,” I disagree…respectfully. I drag his mouth back toward mine.

  “Gabrielle, fuck. You know it’s hard for me to resist you when you get like this.”

  “That’s the idea, slick.” I see him struggling between his desire for me and his desire to not get caught by our family. “I need this. I need to feel you inside me. Don’t be my Dom. Be my husband.”

  With an agreeing moan, his mouth lands on mine and his hands lift my skirt up and clamp onto my ass, elevating me and shoving me into the cool stone wall. He kisses roughly along my lips, cheek, jaw, neck, shoulder. His teeth graze my vibrating flesh. His hands grope at my breasts and hips. I reach down between us and take down his zipper. When my hand wraps around the heat of his growing erection, he gasps and moans. It swells in my grasp.

  “You’re the only woman who does this to me,” he murmurs into my ear, pulling at my delicate lace panties until they disintegrate in his hands. It’s no easy feat and never ceases to turn me on. “I can’t seem to control myself with you, Gabrielle.” His lips lazily drag along my cheek to my open mouth. “It’s like all the circuits in my brain cross.”

  “Damian,” I gasp, smashing his lips onto mine.

  Hunt

  After I’ve finished with Elle in the cellar, I clean myself up and seek out her mother. She’s overseeing the movers clearing out the living room. “Please, be very careful with the couch. The fabric is old and fragile.”

  I clear my throat, announcing my presence. She turns to me with a frazzled expression. “Oh, Damian. Give me a second, dear.” She glimpses back at the professional packers she hired to help with the massive project. “Make sure you double wrap that vase, please. It’s an antique.”

  She acknowledges me again, running her hands over her hair and tugging on the hem of her designer blouse.