by Rina Kent
He has four bedrooms. One of them is his office. I tried breaking into it a few times, but it’s locked and only he has the key. I wondered if he kept dead bodies there, so I brought him a drink once. It looked like a normal office. Which was a bit disappointing. I didn’t want the dead bodies, but I was intrigued to see what he created when it was only him and himself. That brain of his is so fascinatingly screwed up, I’m sure unimaginable things come of it.
Perhaps it’s his research. I’m glad he’s channelling that destructive energy towards something good.
I come to a screeching halt at the threshold of the spacious kitchen.
Dominic.
He’s in black boxer briefs. The defined muscles of his back contract as he perches on the stove.
The swirls from the ‘No Regret’ tattoo send tendrils along his back and shoulders. All my craving for coffee almost becomes nil and void.
Dominic is more addictive than coffee. Ha. I never thought any person would be more important than my magical coffee.
What is he doing here anyway? He goes for a jog every morning and would usually be at the lab about now.
Not that I’m complaining. I mean, I get a view of all those drool-worthy muscles. It’s a blasphemy to complain.
I stand there and admire his backside. A throb starts between my thighs by just watching.
He turns around, and when he catches me checking him out, a sly smirk tugs his lips.
“What?” I feign nonchalance and head to the coffee machine. He always has it ready for me. “You’re so gorgeous, it’s unfair.”
He appears thoughtful for a second as he sprinkles salt on the eggs. “Why is it unfair?”
“People like you shouldn’t get the beautiful package. It helps who you are.”
He rubs his bottom lip with his forefinger. “Maybe we become who we are because we have the package.”
I pour coffee in my mug on which is written ‘La vie commence après la première tasse de café’ – the only utensils I brought from France. It’s old and a bit too big, but it’s Papa’s precious present since I started my coffee addiction.
I pause, mulling Dominic’s words. Since I didn’t fill my system with coffee, I’m not in a mood for early banter, so I just drop it.
Dominic, being an asshole, smirks announcing his win as we sit down across from each other on the dining table.
Aromatic scents float around us. He went all out with breakfast today. Jam, marmite, eggs, and even bacon. It looks delicious but not more than the half-naked man savouring his eggs. Locks of his dishevelled dark brown hair fall on his forehead. He appears pretty tame if not tired today.
He seems like… himself.
A giddiness takes hold of me. I thought I was above all the teenage emotions, but it turns out that my hormones are freaking loud and demanding around Dominic.
I take a sip from my mug to stop myself from jumping him. The bitter black coffee is the most heavenly taste on earth. I close my eyes and moan softly.
“What do I do to become that coffee?”
My eyes shoot open, and I almost spit the mouthful of coffee.
Dominic is watching me with an amused gleam as he nibbles on his eggs.
Well, two can play. I feign a mocking tone. “The mighty Dominic will reduce himself to being mere coffee?”
“Hey, if you’re addicted to me and can only start your day after having me, then I’m game.”
My fingers clasp the coffee mug tighter. He appears neutral, relaxed even, but I’m not sure if he means it or he’s just fucking with me as usual.
I don’t want to get my hopes high in case he crushes them, so I evade. “You should try coffee, it’s so good.”
“You French are so obsessed with coffee, it’s ridiculous.”
“And you British are so possessed by tea, it’s more than ridiculous.” I shoot back. “You drink 60.2 billion cups a year. That’s crazy.”
He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. “I’m not a tea person.”
“I noticed. You’re an anomaly.”
He shrugs again. Only this time, he definitely doesn’t care.
I fix myself a sandwich. I don’t usually eat much in the morning, but Dominic is spoiling me and the British marmite is growing on me.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
“I took a day off.”
Now, that’s rare. I grin around a mouthful of my sandwich. I’m already halfway through. “That’s a coincidence. It’s my day off, too.”
“It’s no coincidence, Cam.”
Oh.
My cheeks heat and that balloon starts growing in my chest. Dominic the workaholic who slaves in his lab, even during the weekend, took a day off for me.
“What’s the occasion?” I nibble on my sandwich, not paying it much attention anymore.
“I will show you around London. I figured you didn’t get a decent tour since you got here. Since I’m such a good sport, I volunteer to be your guide.”
My heart jumps in thrill and damn excitement, but I manage to copy his amused tone. “You’re not just a good sport, you’re like an angel.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You even have the brightest halo in all of England. Can you believe I’ve seen it since I was in France?”
“I’m glad I showed you the way. Who knows what would’ve happened if you didn’t find me?”
I sip my coffee, the teasing mood withering away. Yeah, who knew what would’ve happened? I would’ve spent a few weeks here, satisfied my nerdy anglophile side, and then returned to France. By now, I would’ve grovelled to my parents and I would be drinking my coffee at the top of the hill with my nose deep in a book.
None of that seems possible now.
I’m so caught up in Dominic’s web that it will be impossible to get out.
He taps the table in front of my mug. “Where did your mind go now?”
“Not somewhere pleasant,” I admit.
I expect him to push and make me confess all these jumbled feelings and thoughts – that I’m not even sure I understand them myself – but he remains silent. Perhaps he doesn’t want to hear it either. Perhaps he’s too comfortable in the casual thing we have.
I used to think I’m comfortable, too.
Not anymore.
I want more of him and I have no idea how to get there.
Dominic’s expression is unreadable as he points at my half-eaten sandwich. “Are you done?”
“Yeah.” I drop the sandwich, losing all appetite. “Why?”
He pushes off his chair and reaches me in two long strides. One of his arms flings behind my back while the other goes under my legs. He lifts me in his arms with infinite ease. I yelp then gasp when his ravenous mouth finds mine. His tongue plunges inside, and I moan.
I wrap my arms around his neck. My fingers thread into his hair as I meet his passion with my insatiable one.
When he pulls away, I’m panting for breath. I’m so glad he’s carrying me. My legs wouldn’t have held me.
“That’s why.” His dark, gleaming eyes dissect my soul and put it on freaking display with a big ‘Under Dominic’s Spell’ sign on it.
I don’t even care anymore.
He nibbles on my earlobe, sending sparks of pleasure between my thighs. His slight scruff heightens my awareness of him.
With one last nibble, he squeezes my ass cheek and meets my gaze. “I deserve this much for preparing your breakfast every day.”
“I’m sure we can work out something more.” I pant, eyeing his lips. “I mean, you’re such a magnificent chef.”
His mouth hovers over mine and his cool breath tickles my lips. He’s a fraction away from kissing me, but he continues being a damn tease. “What would you reward me with?”
“Anything you want,” I croak, eyeing his lips.
He leans even closer until his head-turning scent is all I breathe, but he still doesn’t freaking kiss me.
“Anything
?”
My head bobs up and down. I’m apparently unable to form words anymore.
He hums, about to say something, but I cut him off.
“Oh, la ferme, Dom.” I seal my lips to his. Soon after, my urgency is met by Dominic’s uncontrollable one.
His tongue dives in and breath knocks out of my lungs. My toes curl, and shocks of desire ripple through me.
It’s terrifying how much my body comes alive in his arms. If I leave, I don’t think I can survive the withdrawal.
Still kissing me senseless, Dominic carries me to the bedroom in a few long strides. Once I’m on the bed, he crawls atop of me and kisses his way down my jaw to my earlobe and collarbone with maddened urgency. He sucks and nibbles and drives me crazy.
My nipples peak and tighten. Even though the towel is soft, they almost hurt with so much tension.
His fingers find the edge of the towel and he rasps, “Let’s get rid of this distracting thing.”
“Distracting?” I barely manage.
“I couldn’t even have a proper breakfast because of this.”
Before I can lament in the meaning behind that, Dominic rips the towel open so I’m lying stark naked in front of him.
Fierce hunger darkens the brown of his eyes as they rake over every inch of skin. My body hums to life and the inside of my thighs throbs. I’m so wet, I think he sees it.
He’s always had this effect on me. And not only physically. He stimulates my mind, heart, and body all the damn time. There’s no dull moment with him.
Dominic uses the towel to wrap my wrists over my head to the bedpost. I’m completely under his mercy. He spreads my thighs and settles between them. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Cam.”
The deep sincerity on his face coupled with my own emotions is the death of me. I deviate my head to capture his lips. I roll my hips so he’ll feel my urgency, too. A rustle of clothes sounds as he fiddles with his boxer briefs before his erection teases at my entrance.
“I want to spank your arse red, but I fucking need inside you, baby girl.”
He slams into me in one delicious, deep thrust. I cry out against his mouth and hold onto the bedpost.
Since I’m ready, Dominic doesn’t give me time to adjust. He finds his rhythm in a beat. He pounds into me so roughly and brutally, the way we both like it. The way we both crave it. The mattress and our bodies shift with the hardness of each thrust.
It’s wild and untamed and so out of fucking control. And I’m so close to the edge. It’s insane how much he’s so compatible with my unhinged sexual preferences – that I only discovered with him.
He pulls out, almost completely, and then slams in again. Stars form behind my eyelids. My head rolls back in a wordless cry. I make helpless sounds that resemble moans and whimpers but are more intense.
“You like that, Cam?” He grunts.
I nod frantically. I’m so, so close.
He wraps a hand around my throat and slams again. This time, I shatter all around him. A quiver goes through my body as I come apart. It takes Dominic a few more thrusts before he curses. His back muscles turn rigid. He growls as warmth fills my insides.
We lie in there with him still seated deep inside me. Our heavy breaths are the only sound in the room.
Dominic undoes my binding and strokes my inner wrists even though the towel is soft.
I feel so pleased and in a stupid dopamine halo. Maybe, just maybe, that’s why I say, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Then, I freak out. Some sense goes back to my brain which is being thoroughly manipulated by Dominic. I’m about to negate what I said. Become defensive. Tell him it’s all because of the sex spell.
I don’t get a chance.
Dominic flips us so he’s on his back and I’m on top of him. He says in hot words against my ear, “Don’t go back to France. Stay with me.”
21
Hades
“Ambush him. Now.”
It’s time for Dominic to submit.
22
Camille
True to his word, Dominic takes me all over London.
We stroll in Hyde Park and even have ice cream – or I do. Dominic just watches while shaking his head as the ultimate ice cream terrorist. I mean, who hates ice cream?
Dominic, the freak, apparently.
We spend the entire time walking and talking like a normal couple. He even has his arm around my waist the entire time. Needless to say, I melt more than the ice cream cone in England’s heat wave.
By lunchtime, the soles of my feet are begging to be put out of their misery and the T-shirt is sticking to my back with sweat. I heave in relief when we step into an air-conditioned restaurant for lunch.
A few patrons say ‘a bit hot out there’. That’s the understatement of the century, but it’s the British way I guess.
Where are London’s rainy days when you need them?
Dominic and I sit near the back. It’s darker and cosier here. There aren’t people either. Perfect.
While we drink refreshments, I go on and on, telling Dominic about the places I still want to visit. Big Ben, the Palace and so much more. I visited them in the first week I came here, but everything becomes special when he’s by my side. I told him about my Anglophile tendencies and passion for English literature. Dom’s only response? ‘You’re such a nerd.’
Well, he’s such a sociopath. But he smiled when he called me a nerd so I smiled back when I called him a sociopath.
The waiter who comes to serve us is broad and tall and has a clean-cut hair. He’s bulky and appears right out of the military. No idea why, but he doesn’t seem like the waiter type. It’s like I’ve seen him before, but where?
After the waiter takes our order and leaves, Dominic sips from his water. He’s in a white button-down shirt and dark trousers. The cloth strains against his lean shoulder muscles, giving me a flashback of clinging to them when he brought my world to pieces in the shower.
My throat dries, and I take another sip of water. Damn the perfection that is Dom. Can’t he be less edible or something? I’m seriously contemplating jumping him in the restroom.
Whoa. Take it down a notch, hormones.
“Is there something interesting about the waiter?” he asks leisurely, almost in a nonchalant tone, but I detect the strain underneath it.
I feign ignorance. He’s surely rubbing his manipulative ways on me. “The broad waiter?”
He narrows his eyes but soon masks it. “That’s the one.”
I finger the utensils on the table, my tone innocent. “He was handsome, don’t you think?”
Dominic doesn’t even pretend to mask his anger. Darkness swirls in his intense brown eyes. On good days, Dominic is fearsome, but this pissed off Dominic is bad news. He’s always been possessive, so I’m kind of playing with fire.
Worse part? I love it.
I love everything about Dominic’s intensity and how he’s remotely far from normal. It’s like a daily thrilling ride.
He’s madness, and I’m tired of being sane.
His gaze shines with an eerie gleam. “Do you fancy a go with the handsome waiter, Camille? Hmm?”
Royally pissed off it is. I want to continue pushing his buttons, but I have no doubt that he’d flip me on his lap and spank me in public.
I smooth my voice. “Nope. You’re draining me as it is.”
His lips twitch in a slight smile. “Smart answer.”
“Hmmm,” I tease. “I never thought sociopaths can be this jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. Jealousy is when you don’t have something. You’re already mine.” His eyes darken as if he’s challenging me. “Aren’t you, baby girl?”
“I will think about it.” I feign innocence.
He growls. “I will spank your arse for that then I won’t let you come no matter how much you beg.”
“I take it back. I’m yours.” My tone turns pleading. He really becomes a devil when he decides to torture me. “So tak
e your punishment back.”
He smirks. “I will think about it.”
I laugh. “God. I wonder how my first time would’ve been like if Pierre had even a bit of your dominance.”
He twirls the glass of water in his hand and I can feel his mood darkening, forming thick layers all around us. “Don’t compare me to that kid.”
“He wasn’t that much of a kid.”
“If he let you go and didn’t give you what you need, then he’s a fucking kid.”
“You’re mean.”
“I’m realistic and you love that about me,” he says matter-of-factly.
I love many things about him but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Did you love him?” His voice is neutral but I can sense the tension underneath.
“I thought I did. Now I believe I was confused.”
I was attached to Pierre. Love is far greater and consuming. My feelings for Dominic are both scary and empowering. I’m free falling and will never reach the bottom. I don’t want to reach the bottom. Pierre was safe and I thought maybe safe was enough.
It isn’t.
I don’t know if it’s because my father is a strong man, but beneath the surface, authoritative, controlled men attracted me.
Dominic is that and more.
His darkness speaks to mine. My connection with him is beyond his maddening touch on my skin. It runs deeper, stronger, and out of control.
Dominic appears approving, happy even, and I'm proud for being the cause. “From today on, don’t mention that kid in front of me or I will find him and murder him.”
“You are jealous.”
“I’m not. I just fucking hate that he had you.”
Which is basically jealousy. I bite back a grin and drown my glass. Then, I look at the date on the TV and frown. Wait. It’s already past half of August? I do a mental count of the last time I had the birth control shot.
My throat clogs and my stomach twists in knots.
It’s been more than thirteen weeks since my last shot. I’m in the grey area and Dominic comes inside me the entire damn time.