A Dominant Salvation (A Dominant Series Book 3)

by Lena Black

  “Thank you, Gabrielle.”

  “For?”

  “Everything you’ve done for me, everything you’ve given me. Most of my life, I thought I would never find you. I was lost. I resigned to the fact that I would always be incomplete. You were the missing piece I was searching for.” His hand reaches over my cheek, and I nuzzle into it, taking comfort in his loving touch. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately, what the next step for us should be, and how we move on. Before you, I thought I was destined to be alone. It’s what I thought I deserved. But since, my life has been filled with family, friends, you. You’ve given me more than I could ever dream for myself.”

  “Aw, babe.” I run my fingers through his hair.

  “Anyway, what I was saying about our future…What if we skipped a few steps?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you want time together, alone, but what if we adopted the twins? I hate the thought of them going to someone else. They belong with us. We can take care of them, give them a comfortable life…”

  I fling myself at him, my arms cutting him off when they constrict around his neck.

  “Yes,” I whisper into the warm crook, “yes, yes.” His swift, erratic pulse throbs against my lips as his arms make their way around my back. A flood of relieved tears spill down my face. “I hate the idea of them living with someone else.” I pull away, wiping the streaks of salty water from my cheeks. “But are we ready for this?”

  “Is any parent?”

  I shrug and smile, holding him close again. We remain locked together, the minutes ticking by until the outside light becomes soft and gray.

  “Come on, angel,” he says, running his large hand over the back of my head, smoothing my windswept hair. “Let’s get back home.”

  I nuzzle into him, a singular thought in my head…

  Home.

  “We want to adopt the twins,” Hunt blurts without any real buildup.

  He’s eager.

  I’ve never seen him as excited as he’s been the past week. Hunt wanted to have everything ready to go before we spoke with Sloan. He contacted his lawyer and the adoption agency we’ve been working with. We know she could say no, but we’d rather be safe than sorry and have the paperwork prepared for signing.

  “What?” Sloan asks, confusion wrinkling the corners of her eyes and mouth.

  “There’s no one better suited to raise them than Gabrielle and I. We can provide them with a promising future. They will attend the best schools, live in the finest homes, and be loved endlessly. They will never lack for anything. You said you want the best for them. We’re the best.”

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  She knows Damian’s thoughts on children. We’ve discussed it a number of times. She also knows I’ve fought with the idea of motherhood. This question wasn’t directed at him. It was meant for me.

  “Yes,” I assure her with concrete certainty. I was meant to be these babies’ mother. These little balls of life were meant to be ours.

  “I didn’t think that was an option,” she says with tears wrenching her words and tosses her arms about me. “But I always wanted it to be you two. This means everything to me.”

  She breaks down, crying in sputtered bursts.

  I look at Hunt, spotting the tears collecting and spilling out from his eyes. I stand and take him in my arms. With one arm hooked about me, he holds his other hand out to Sloan.

  She giggles and takes it, allowing him to lift her up. When she’s steady on her feet, he wraps his arm about her too, embracing us, his family. He sets his cheek atop my head, letting out a soothed breath, hopefully finding a bit of peace in that moment.

  We devote the next week shopping for the babies and decorating the nursery, in a scramble to get everything prepared for the twins arrival in late February. It’s a whirlwind of diapers, color swatches, and panic.

  Tomorrow is coming on fast, but yesterday is hot on our trail.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It’s All Greek

  At six, I gather my things and head to the lobby, surprised to discover Liam waiting for me by the elevators, his hands firmly clasped in front of him. You’d never know he’s a giant softy under that hard exterior.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do than escort me everywhere?” He laughs and slides the keycard over the pad of Hunt’s private elevator. “I’m pretty sure I can find my way up a floor, Liam.”

  “Mr. Hunt is not in his office. I’m taking you to another location,” he says, but doesn’t go further. Not like I’d expect him to. He’s almost as bad as Damian.

  The doors open, and we step on.

  “And this location would be where exactly?” I ask, aiming a curious side-glance in his direction.

  Re-clasping his hands, he retorts with a smirk, “Where Mr. Hunt is, of course.”

  The doors slide closed, and the elevator takes us down.

  I’m confused when we arrive at San Francisco International Airport, pulling straight up to Damian’s 757.

  Shit.

  Does Damian have a business trip?

  Everything has been so hectic lately, I forget myself half the time.

  “Banks, what are we doing here?”

  He doesn’t answer me, of course, parking in front of the stairs leading up to the plane. Before he can get out, I open my door and jump out to search for Hunt.

  “Damian,” I call to him. He emerges from the plane with a brilliant grin on his face. “What is all this?”

  “We need to get away,” he comments, walking up to me and kissing me faintly on the lips. “I’m finally taking you on a honeymoon.”

  “Hunt. What about Sloan and the twins? What if she goes into early labor while we’re gone? What about work?”

  “Elle,” he murmurs, grasping onto my biceps and rubbing them, “Sloan will be fine. She has plenty of time before she’s expected to deliver, the doctor said so himself. Liam and Julie offered to have her stay with them while we’re gone. And work…Well, there are more important things in life than work. Plus, your oh-so-generous boss gave the okay.”

  He smirks at me, pleased with his cleverness.

  “Perks of being married to him, I suppose.”

  “The blowjobs don’t hurt either,” he laughs out.

  I gasp and slap him on the arm. “You dirty old man!”

  He takes hold of my wrist and lures me in roughly, latching onto both of my ass cheeks. “This dirty old man can still fuck the shit out of you, little girl.” He nips my bottom lip. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”

  “Mmmm,” I moan. “Yes you can.”

  He spanks my ass hard and releases me. “Now, as I was saying, you need a break. We need a break.”

  “I know you mean well, Hunt, but I have so much work I need to do before the babies arrive. We don’t even have the nursery complete.”

  “Angel, listen to me.” He takes my hands in his. “I have that all taken care of…I just want to take you on the honeymoon I never got to give you. Just you and me, tangled in the sheets, wrapped up in each other. Once the babies come, we won’t get this opportunity for a long time. Things have been so stressful. We deserve this time for just the two of us.”

  “It would be nice to finally have our honeymoon.” I smile faintly. “Take me away, Mr. Hunt.”

  Greece is everything I expected and more. We’ve spent the past several days in uninterrupted bliss together, tanning in the Mediterranean sun, swimming in the blue and green turquoise waters, hopping from city to city and island to island, admiring the landscape and ancient sites. Damian has been in paradise, taking photos of the them and instilling everything he knows about Greek history and mythology on me. We’ve made love whenever we felt like it. The Parthenon for instance.

  We’re on the final leg of our trip on Santorini. It is by far my favorite stop. The white-washed spitia (houses) with vivid blue doors. The bubbled rooftops of the churches. The narrow roads weaving throug
h the hillside villages. The fiery sunsets. It’s heaven.

  My eyes crack open, light seeping between my lashes, lids heavy. They flutter before opening completely, adjusting to the brightness of day. I take in my surroundings and remember we’re in our rented villa overlooking the ocean. A warm breeze flows over me, carrying the sweet/salty/spicy scent of paradise.

  I sit up and scratch my head with a loud yawn. When I turn towards Hunt, his half of the bed is vacant and cold. He most likely went on one of his five-mile runs, so he’ll probably be awhile. Unlike Damian, I’d much rather spend my morning taking a swim in the reviving ocean. It’s calling my name.

  I climb out of bed naked as sin and stretch a full body stretch, arms high in the air, fingers interlocked until a satisfying crack pops in my spine. I casually walk over to the dresser for a swimsuit, rummaging through the top drawer where we’ve kept them the entire trip, but I can’t find any.

  Nothing.

  Nada.

  Zip.

  Zilch.

  “They were here yesterday,” I grumble, sifting through every drawer from top to bottom. This has Hunt written all over it.

  Ah well, when in Rome…or Greece in this case. I shrug my shoulders and head down to the white sands of our private beach sans suit. The sun-heated granules feel divine under my feet, shifting under my weight, filling the space between my polished toes. I inhale a deep breath of the salty air and take in the sun’s rays on my exposed skin. I step up to the ocean’s edge, the sand becoming cooler from the relief of the water, rushing over my feet. It’s not too chilly, not too warm. It’s perfect.

  I walk shoulder-deep into the water and then float and swim, admiring the relaxing ambiance of my surroundings, the soft, wet touch of the ocean carrying my body. I stop for a moment to look out onto the horizon. There’s nothing insight for miles and miles. You can’t even tell where the water ends and the sky begins, just endless blue. I’m enjoying the view so much, I don’t notice Hunt until his arms wrap about me, his hard, bare body against mine. His erection slides against my backside, its thick width and length resting along the crack.

  “Greece suits you,” he whispers into my ear.

  “I agree.” I set my head back onto his shoulder. “I love it here.”

  “I know, angel.” He holds me closer, breathing into my hair, resting his cheek atop my head. “After everything, seclusion is exactly what we need.”

  “You did good, slick.” I relax into his hold, relishing the warmth of his skin on mine. “Damian?”

  “Yes, Gabrielle?”

  “Why were there no swimsuits in the dresser?”

  “I didn’t see a need for them.”

  “Is that right, Mr. Hunt?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Hunt, that’s right. In fact, for the rest of the trip, I want you naked and ready for me to take when and where I please.”

  “You want me to be your Aphrodite, Adonis?” I retort.

  “Exactly.”

  “And will you be naked with me?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He nips at my ear. “I have you to myself, and I plan to take full advantage of that.”

  He jerks me around and into his torso, smashing his lips to mine in a frantic state. One hand firmly set on the low of my back, the other hand reaches into my hair, grasping a fistful. He groans against my mouth, his tongue gliding over my bottom lip. He boosts me up and sets the head of his very erect cock at my entrance.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, Gabrielle. I’m going to take your beautiful pussy until you forget what it’s like when my cock isn’t buried within it.”

  “Take me,” I breathe, our lips close enough to taste each other.

  I gasp as he slams me down his shaft, sheathing himself inside me to the hilt.

  I moan when the sweet nectar of honeydew coats my tongue, chewing and swallowing it down slowly, relishing the taste.

  “You like?” Hunt asks, smiling at me with a pleased grin.

  Lying beside me in bed, he feeds me between sessions. We’ve been immersed the whole day, taking breaks to bathe, nap, or eat. We lounged naked on the beach, soaking up the warmth of the sun. And when we became too warm, we swam and floated in the turquoise ocean.

  As he promised, I never put on clothes.

  He sets the platter of fruit on the nightstand and then moves closer to me, resting an arm over my stomach. He places his face next to mine, gently kissing my temple. I listen to the waves crashing onto the shore in the not-too-far distance. A nighttime breeze sweeps over the room, blowing the sheer white curtains about gently.

  “This is Heaven.” I snuggle into him.

  “It must be.” He combs his masculine fingers through my hair, sighing contently. “I’ve captured an angel.”

  “Pouring it on thick.”

  A smile contorts his mouth, but it fades as quick as it came on. His eyes narrow, staring off into space. He’s deep in thought, a million miles away, when he mutters emotionlessly, “I’ve been to Hell, and this isn’t it.”

  I run my nails over his scalp, attempting to both sooth and bring him back to me.

  “What do you mean, slick?” I probe, waking him up.

  He doesn’t answer, but he’s talking about his uncle. I know it. I truly believe the core of his heartache and torment comes from the nightmare he experienced in his time living with him. I’ve often wondered what happened to him. Hunt refuses to talk about his scumbag uncle beyond a few hate-stained words.

  I’ve never known anyone who’s lived through as much tragedy as Hunt. Not even myself.

  He says it’s drawn to some people, their lives are a series of unfortunate events. And I’m inclined to believe him. After everything he’s told me and I’ve seen firsthand, I’m certain our lives will never be a smooth path. Then again, is anyone’s?

  He smiles faintly before pulling me into his arms and resting his cheek atop my head.

  “Let’s sleep, angel.”

  Not wanting to ruin our belated honeymoon with talk of the past, I nod and ease into him.

  “I love you, Damian.”

  “I love you, Elle.”

  It doesn’t take long for sleep to find me. After a day so wonderful that it bordered perfect, I drift into dreamland, secure in my husband’s arms.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Paradise Found

  The following day, we hike from Fira to Oia through the golden hills of Santorini, breaking to catch our breath and then lose it again during a stolen moment in the shade of a tree. We top the day off with a picturesque sunset.

  When we arrive back at the villa, Hunt informs me we’re heading out for the evening. While I bathe away the afternoon, he picks out my dress, shoes, and underwear. In the past, it bothered me, his controlling nature. But now, I actually enjoy it…for the most part.

  I slip into white lace and shapeless linen, tapering the waist of the loose-fitting dress with a thin gold belt. I throw my hair into a wispy ponytail, a few golden tendrils draping about my face and neck.

  “Breathtaking,” Hunt says from behind me. I glance at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes scan me up and down, soaking me in.

  His chocolate hair is parted at the side and slick. His skin, a healthy golden tint from the Mediterranean sun. Dressed in beige linen slacks and an off-white cotton button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbow, he's the one taking my breath away. And he could have it, since I breathe for him anyway. He owns it, along with every other iota of my being.

  “You look very striking yourself, slick.”

  He saunters over to me, pressing his front into my back, and wraps his arms about me.

  “I’d like take these clothes off and wear you instead,” he states, his eyes dark and admiring.

  “We can always skip our night out.”

  “No,” he smiles, “I enjoy waiting for you, the buildup, the watching, the touching, the hunt. It makes having you all the more satisfying.”

  Only Hunt can make not having sex sound delectable.
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  “Maybe I should deny you more often,” I retort wickedly.

  “You could try.” He kisses my shoulder, my head sagging to the side with a pleased smirk and a moan. “You look…happy.”

  “Beyond words,” I happily confess.

  I stare at the reflection of his face, resting beside mine.

  “You know, when I was a little girl, I used to watch my mother get ready for a night out with my father. I loved watching her fuss with her hair, apply her makeup, carefully place earrings in the lobes of her ears. I wanted to be her in those moments. I would study her every move, trying to figure out what it was about her that made her so elegant, so beautiful, so revered by my father. I wondered what it was about her that made her worthy of a man as wonderful as him. Because I knew he was the type of husband I wanted someday, kind, giving, loyal, doting, madly in love with me. I wanted to be worthy. There was a time I thought I would never find you. Then—you found me. And standing here in this moment, while you watch me with the same love and devotion he used to watch her with, I finally feel worthy.”

  “You’re wrong, Gabrielle. You are everything you wanted to be and more. It’s whether or not the man you graciously chose to give yourself to was worthy of you.” He tilts his face into my neck and kisses it.

  “I think he is.”

  A smile creeps over his mouth, tickling the delicate skin. He pulls away and stares down into my eyes.

  “You make me feel worthy.”

  “You are…and more.”

  He leans in to gently peck on my forehead before taking a step back to admire me one last time.

  “Are we missing something?” he asks with a glimpse floorward.

  I follow his gaze to my bare feet and wiggle my toes.

  “I’m waiting ‘til the last minute,” I tell him. “You try sporting six inch heels all night and then ask me why I’m not wearing them yet.”

  I smirk up at him teasingly.

  He chuckles.

  “May I help you into them?”