Dark Dominion: Dangerous Desire Book 1

by Samantha Wolfe

  He stepped closer, reached up with his free hand, and brushed some of my hair away from my face with gentle fingers. I froze as a frisson of desire pulsed through me. I stared up helplessly into his darkening eyes, and thought he might kiss me, but the opening elevator doors put an end to that. His only acknowledgment of our little moment was the slight quirk of his lips as he led me out across the lobby.

  "I love this building," he said as he glanced around with interest. "It's very art deco."

  So did I. I loved all the curving lines and the bold geometric shapes on the tiled floors. It made me feel like I was in the book The Great Gatsby, and it was the 1920s.

  "You do?" I asked in surprise. For some reason, he struck me as a modern design kind of guy, all clean lines and minimalist decor made for looks and not comfort.

  "I love old buildings," he explained as he glanced at me with a soft smile. "They have character. They feel so alive and full of history." He frowned. "I hate modern buildings. They feel dead to me."

  "I agree," I said with a warm smile as he helped me slip my coat on. I kept discovering unexpected things about this man that made me rethink everything I'd assumed when we met.

  We walked outside into the clear cold night, and I was surprised when he led me over to a dark-gray Range Rover parked along the street. I guess I figured he'd drive a Mercedes or a BMW. I felt like I'd been a presumptuous bitch for all my assumptions about Gareth since Saturday night. I wasn't proud of myself, and I felt ashamed. I hated to be instantly judged like that myself. I frowned as he opened the passenger door and helped me in. He came around to the driver's side, and I was still frowning to myself as he settled into his seat.

  "Having second thoughts?" He was eying me worriedly.

  "Wh...what?" I blurted out in surprise. "N...no, of course not."

  "Are you sure?" he asked with a raised brow and a smirk. "That's a pretty big frown you're sporting."

  "I feel like I owe you an apology," I said as my frown deepened.

  "An apology?" he asked incredulously as he turned in his seat to face me. He cocked his head in confusion. "What on earth could you be sorry for?"

  "I assumed you were just some arrogant asshole on Saturday," I explained with a pained expression.

  His face hardened, and his jaw clenched for a second before he spoke. "I've been called that and worse before," he said sharply.

  "People call each other all kinds of horrible things." I shook my head. "It doesn't make it true. Besides, I don't think you're an asshole anymore."

  "You don't know me that well yet," he said with a brittle smile, and his eyes held a hard edge that belied his words. It was disconcerting. I wasn't sure, but it seemed like I'd done something to cause it. I didn't know how to respond, so I decided to change the subject.

  "Where are we going to eat?" I asked nonchalantly.

  He suddenly looked sheepish. "Well, I ran into a problem," he said apologetically. "I couldn't manage to get a reservation at any of the places I wanted to take you. Everything was full." He shook his head. "I don't understand it, since it's a Tuesday, but I thought we could have dinner at my place, if that's alright with you."

  "That's fine," I replied, and strangely it was. Maybe it was insane since we only met on Saturday, but for some reason, I felt completely safe with Gareth. "And don't feel bad," I added as an afterthought. "I doubt anyone could snag a table anywhere last minute tonight. It is Valentine's Day after all."

  Gareth stilled for a beat, his eyes widening in surprise, before he turned to face forward again. He wordlessly started the vehicle and then pulled out into traffic. His dark eyes stared straight ahead as he drove, his demeanor now stiff and uncomfortable. Suddenly, I felt like I'd somehow done something wrong again, and once more, I was completely clueless as to what it could possibly be.

  9

  GARETH

  It was Valentine's Day. Fucking Valentine's Day. How could I not have realized that?

  The last time I spent this day with a woman was eight years ago. I'd planned a whole romantic day for my wife, like I did every year. Then I sat and watched her rip everything I did apart, just like every other year. Nothing was good enough for her. Nothing was ever good enough for her, not me or anything I did. There was something wrong with everything I'd planned, and of course, Ryan pointed all of it out in that needling passive-aggressive way she had that I let tear me down for years.

  After we separated, I swore I'd never spend another Valentine's Day with a woman, and I hadn't until today. I stared out the windshield and mentally castigated myself for being so idiotic that I didn't realize what day it was. I could feel Malory watching at me as we drove in an uncomfortable silence that I'd created.

  "Are you okay?" she asked in an unsure worried tone.

  "Yes," I growled out irritably without looking her way.

  "Did I do something wrong?"

  That question got to me, and made me feel about two feet tall. None of this was Malory's fault. She didn't think I was an asshole, but she was wrong. This night was starting to fall apart already, and I couldn't let that happen. Despite everything, I still wanted her, needed her, and I had to rein in my moody bullshit. She deserved better than that.

  I took a deep breath to calm myself down. "No," I managed to say evenly. "Of course not." I looked at her. I didn't like the frown or the concerned look in her eyes that I'd put there. It bothered me far more than it should have, or I cared to admit. "I'm just annoyed with myself for not realizing what day it was."

  "Don't feel too bad," she said with a small commiserating smile. "I didn't either until just now."

  I eyed her suspiciously. "Really? A woman who doesn't know it's Valentine's Day?" My lips twisted wryly. "I thought every woman pined for the perfect Valentine's Day." There was a bitterness in my tone I didn't intend, but if she noticed, I couldn't tell.

  "Well, it's easy to forget when you haven't had a reason to celebrate it in a very long time," she replied in a sad lonely tone that pulled at me.

  Her words struck a cord in my blackened heart. I didn't like seeing her upset, and that fact disturbed me to no end, but this wasn't a date. I had to keep that in mind. It was a prelude to something purely physical. There was no room in my life for anything more than that. There couldn't be, no matter how much I enjoyed her company or how much everything I learned about her made me want her more.

  I reached out to rest my hand on the middle of her thigh and squeezed lightly. "Well, maybe I'll make sure it's a night you'll never forget again," I told her as I inched my hand upward, my voice lowering seductively. Her breath quickened, and her cheeks flushed a bright crimson. I bet her chest blushed just like that when she came. I let out a shuddering breath as lust bloomed inside me in a heady rush.

  "Gareth," she moaned in a pleading voice as my fingers came within inches of her cunt.

  The sound of my name coming out of her mouth in such a sexy needy tone, made my dick start to throb insistently. Shit, I needed to calm down if I was going to get through dinner without bending her over my goddamn table while the food was still warm.

  "Patience, beautiful," I murmured to her as I pulled my hand away, feeling bereft. Her soft disappointed sigh said she felt the same. Damn, she was irresistible. I had no idea how I was going to make it through dinner.

  After a short drive fraught with thick sexual tension, we finally made it to my apartment building. Malory looked up out of the passenger window with a smile as she admired the beautiful historic building with its arching windows and elegant classical style. It was one of the earliest high-rises in town, and it was built in the late 1800s. I loved this place, and I was happy she seemed to approve. I pulled into my private garage, and parked the Range Rover next to my white Audi R8. Malory stared through the passenger window at the V10 supercar next to us in slack-jawed shock.

  "Is that yours?" she asked in an awed tone.

  "It is," I replied with a grin. It was the first time something that indicated my wealth seemed to i
mpress her.

  "Now that is more like what I expected you to be driving," she said with a wry smile.

  "And if I'd driven that tonight, we'd still be stuck in a snow drift right now," I quipped. "We won't be riding in that until the weather improves." Why the hell did I say that? This wasn't going to be a long-term thing. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice the deeper meaning behind my words.

  "It'd probably get stuck in just a couple of inches."

  "I don't plan on ever finding out firsthand." The damn thing cost entirely too much ever to drive in the winter.

  We climbed out of the SUV, and Malory dragged a hand along the flowing line of the R8's front fender as she walked past it. Then she glanced at the floor and stared at the gray tile floor in astonishment.

  "Is that marble?" she asked in disbelief as she stared at the floor under her feet.

  "I think it's Italian porcelain," I answered her, abruptly feeling insecure about my wealth for the first time ever I think.

  My garage was pretty ostentatious with its expensive tiled floors and pristine white walls. It was big enough to hold six cars, even though I only had the two right now. She didn't know I planned on buying more. I was suddenly afraid my wealth might push Malory away. I wasn't going to let that happen.

  "It was already here when I moved in," I added dismissively, trying to minimize it.

  I grabbed her hand again and swiftly led her to my private elevator. When we got to my floor, I was still holding her hand as I led her out into the small foyer and over to th door to my penthouse. I began typing a numerical code into the keypad on the door, and the quiet beeping noise set off Reggie's barking. I glanced at Malory. Her eyes were wide in surprise.

  "You have a dog?" she asked incredulously.

  I nodded as I opened the door, worried how she'd respond to Reggie for some ridiculous reason. Like it mattered if she liked him.

  As it turned out, they absolutely adored each other. Reggie rushed up to Malory like he'd known her his whole life, with a big dopey grin on his face and keen bright eyes. Malory dropped to her knees just inside the doorway and opened her arms to my dog as he stepped right into them for a hug.

  "Hello, gorgeous," she cooed to him as he licked her face enthusiastically with happy little whines, his tail wagging furiously. "What's your name?" she asked him with a smile that had a soft tender edge to it. I ignored the burst of warm pleasure in my chest.

  "That's Reggie," I answered with a soft smile.

  "Hi, Reggie," she told him as she ruffled his ears. "You're a good boy, aren't you?" She kissed him right on the forehead with a loud smacking noise.

  My dog's entire body wriggled as he pressed closer to her. I shook my head in bemusement. What the hell was she doing to my hundred-pound German Shepherd? He was acting nothing like the reserved and protective dog he normally was with strangers.

  Malory finally stood and glanced around my home. Another flutter of anxiety hit me. I wanted her to like it too. I wasn't one of those wealthy bachelors who insisted on the stark modern furnishings and hard clean lines that I found cold and lifeless. I liked my home to feel warm and lived in, like an oasis from the harsh world outside my walls. Hence, the pale oak flooring and ivory walls paired with my warm beige furniture with pops of gray and dark orange thrown in here and there.

  She smiled when she finally looked at me. "I love your apartment." I was hit by another rush of pleasure. I didn't like it at all. Why did I care?

  "I hope you're hungry," I said to move on from this uncomfortable feeling. I reached over and helped Malory out of her coat, breathing in the clean ocean scent of her perfume. I had to suppress a moan of need as I turned away and went to hang up our coats near the door.

  "It smells amazing in here," she said. "What are we having for dinner?"

  "I'm not sure, let's find out," I replied with a grin. I walked over to the warming drawer of my stove.

  "You don't know what you made for dinner?" she asked in confusion.

  "Well," I was uncomfortable again, "my housekeeper, Jane, cooked for us."

  Did I seem like a spoiled trust fund kid to her? Was I? I couldn't remember the last time I attempted to cook anything, but I was certain it had been a disaster. I didn't bother anymore, and it's not like I needed to with Jane working for me. After all, a man's got to know his limitations.

  "She's an excellent cook," I added, then motioned blindly toward the dining table on the far side of my open living area. "Why don't you have a seat at the table, and I'll serve us." At least, I could handle that part of this meal without feeling insecure.

  "Alright," she answered happily.

  I opened the warming drawer and pulled out two plates. Jane had made what looked like seared grouper with a corn, zucchini, and tomato sauté. It looked and smelled wonderful. I'd asked her to make something light for our dinner. I didn't want a heavy meal interfering with our physical activities later.

  I turned and walked over to where Malory was now sitting. I almost jerked to a halt when I saw the table. Jane had set out a small crystal vase of roses and lit a line of six white votive candles between our place settings. It lent a soft romantic light and warmth to the table that I didn't like or want. It was not the tone I wanted to set for this night at all. When had I ever made her think I wanted something like this for one of my hook-ups? It's not like this was the first time she'd made dinner for one of my female companions. What was Jane thinking?

  I set the plates down a little harder than I intended, purposely not meeting Malory's eyes, before turning to fetch the bottle of chardonnay I'd noticed in the small chiller on the kitchen counter. I busied myself as I opened the bottle, trying to get a grip on my sudden ire. There wasn't anything I could do about it now, but roll with it. If I kept things focused on my purpose, I could maintain control of this situation and not give her the wrong idea here.

  I turned back toward Malory and crossed the room with a suggestive lascivious grin that had her blushing before I even took my chair across from her. Yes, we were back on track again. I ignored the tiny little voice in my head that said I was a deluded idiot.

  **********

  I looked on in amusement as Malory surreptitiously slipped yet another piece of her fish down to Reggie, who was lying right next to her chair on the floor. He hadn't left her side since she walked into my penthouse. It was like I didn't even exist to him tonight. She glanced up, and startled guiltily as she noticed me watching her.

  "I'm sorry," she said apologetically with a pained face. "I...I should have asked before I gave him a little of my fish."

  "I wouldn't call it a little," I replied wryly. "I think you've given him half your meal, but I'm okay with it if it gets us to dessert sooner." I added suggestively as I gave her a lascivious stare, making my meaning clear.

  She flushed red and looked down at her plate, and my cock twitched and got even harder. I'd had an erection for most of the meal. Damn, every little thing she did drove me insane, and it was disconcerting. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I was done waiting.

  "Can I ask you something, Malory?" I asked her pointedly as I grabbed my wine glass and leaned away from my empty plate.

  "Sure," she nodded as she glanced back up at me.

  "Did you like it when I dominated you in that storage room?" I took a sip of my wine as I watched her reaction over the rim of the glass. I know I was being blunt and to the point, but I needed to be clear about things before I took her up to my bed. Some women couldn't handle the rough domineering way I preferred to have sex. It was best to lay everything out on the table beforehand.

  Her eyes widened, and she blushed a vivid crimson this time as she looked at her plate again. She licked her lips and nodded almost imperceptibly, but that wasn't clear enough.

  I leaned forward and carefully set my glass back on the table. "Answer me," I demanded sternly as I watched her closely.

  "Y...yes," she answered in a breathless whisper before sucking in a shuddering breath. The way it mad
e her breasts rise and fall, distracting me for a second, and I had to wrest my mind back to the subject at hand.

  "Would you like me to do it again?" I asked in a low husky voice. Her eyes darted around uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at me. I took that as a yes. "You like a man to take control of your body and your pleasure, don't you?"

  What I'd given her on Saturday was just a small taste of what I could do to her. I wanted to show her all of it, all of me. I knew in my heart that she wanted and needed it. I felt it last Saturday when she instinctively obeyed me and fell apart in my arms. I longed to see her on her knees at my feet freely submitting to my will. I wanted to shackle her to my bed and spank her sweet ass red until she begged me to fuck her. The thought turned me on more than I ever remembered being in my life.

  Malory blinked rapidly in shocked discomfort, even though her eyes had turned jade green with arousal. I imagine no man had ever been this candid or blunt about sex with her before. Most men weren't, but I wasn't most men. I didn't believe in mincing words or skating around what I meant. I'd spent too many years doing that in my marriage, and it didn't earn me anything besides unhappiness and resentment.

  "Answer me, Malory," I snapped out when she took too long to reply to my questions. "And this time you will address me as 'sir'."

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise as her eyes widened. Her brows knitted indignantly. I arched a brow and waited for her reaction, hoping I hadn't offended her enough to make her walk out. It had happened with women before, but it was a gamble I was willing to take. Straight-laced vanilla sex just didn't do it for me anymore, and I wasn't going to sacrifice my own needs for an unfulfilling sexual encounter that didn't satisfy my darker appetites.

  Then just as I feared this wasn't going to work, her body suddenly relaxed in her chair, her eyes softening into that sweet submission I'd seen in them Saturday night. "Y...yes, s...sir," she replied as she forced the words out in a breathless whimper.

  "Did you like my fingers inside you, making you come in a room where someone could have walked in on us at any moment?" I asked in a low growl. "Where they could've seen you fall apart so sweetly in my arms and know what I did to you?" I leaned forward and speared her with my dark gaze.