by Stasia Black
“Here,” Dominick comes back into the room, his soaked suit exchanged for soft sleep pants and one of his characteristic dark blue Henleys. “I thought you could get dry and change into this.” He holds out a terrycloth robe and a towel for me.
I’m too busy staring at how the fabric of his shirt clings to his chest, outlining every one of his defined muscles. Well, now at least I know he wasn’t so grief-stricken by my absence that he let himself go.
And just who else has been enjoying those muscles while I’ve been gone? It’s a nasty thought and one that knifes me far deeper than I would like.
It’s not like I haven’t tried to move on from him. For a while I tried dating any guy who was game.
And failing miserably each time. I slept with three other men in the year since I last saw Dominick and they were all terrible.
I mean, they were perfectly nice lovers. They’d all been picked out by my new flock of feminist friends and were kind, respectful guys. They were all the same way in bed. So gentle and respectful that I wanted to scream at them to just grow some balls and fuck me already.
“How many women have you slept with since me?” I ask Dominick. Suddenly I have to know. Screw the rest of it. This is all that matters.
His mouth drops open and he just stares at me.
The fucking bastard. I advance on him, yank the stupid robe and towel out of his hand, and throw them on the floor. “How many?!”
“None!” he says, the line appearing between his eyebrows. “Christ, Sarah, I couldn’t touch another woman. I’m in love with you.”
For a second there’s complete silence.
And then I jump him.
There’s no other way to put it. I climb up his body, wrap my arms and legs around him, and devour his mouth with mine. There’s just a millisecond of shocked hesitation before he wraps his hands underneath my ass.
Then he’s got me shoved up against the wall. “Sarah,” he breathes out, sounding like a parched man being given a drink for the first time in days. “Oh Christ, Sarah.” And then he kisses me so deep, so hard, I forget everything except the touch and taste of him.
One hand caresses from my ass up the bottom of my thigh, then to my waist. He continues up to my breast which he palms and then squeezes. He lets out a low growl when he feels my nipple harden to a hard peak under his talented fingers.
I grab his hair roughly and jerk him away from my lips. “I need you inside me. My mouth, my cunt, my ass. I need you fucking everywhere.” I see his eyes darken right before he smashes his lips back on mine.
And then we’re moving as he carries me down the short hallway to where I assume is his bedroom. God, feeling the flex of his muscles as he lifts me so effortlessly is such a fucking turn on. My sex is engorged and soaked already.
I barely got wet with the other guys. They all had to use lube and I never even got close to orgasming with any of them.
And then, even as Dominick flips on a side lamp in his room to illuminate his huge king sized bed with a stately wooden headboard, I feel a rush of such shame I feel choked with it. He didn’t sleep with any other women because he loves me. Obviously I can’t say the same. What does that mean, now that I’m here, back with him?
Am I back with him? Is that what this is?
He kisses me deep as he dips down and deposits me on the bed, his body smoothly sliding on top of me.
And God, I don’t want to think about what any of it means. I just want more of this. More of him. All of him.
Still, the sense of guilt is there shouting in the back of my head. All the while his beautiful hands are on me, making me feel so good. Just like they always did. It’s like no time at all has passed. Dominick casts the same spell over me he always did.
But I was a slut.
I went out and seduced other boys just like he said I would.
Have you been flaunting that tight little ass and making the schoolboys’ cocks hard now that you know how good dicks feel shoved up your nasty cunt?
I pull my dress off over my head and then undo my bra. Next off come my panties. Red ones. I cringe even while I know, somewhere in my head, that I bought the color defiantly. That the voice in my head is wrong and it’s not a whore’s color.
But all I feel right now is wrong and bad and slut.
I get on my hands and knees on the bed and stick my ass out, squeezing my eyes shut. “I need to be punished. I was a bad girl. I seduced other boys. Three of them. They had their cocks in my nasty cunt. Punish me.”
I brace for the blows.
None come.
I look over my shoulder. Dominick’s there, crouched on the bed beside me, looking down at me with wide eyes.
Oh God, is he disgusted by me? Does he not want me now? I fight the tears biting at my eyes. “Punish me,” I beg. “I’ll cry for you. Take my ass. You can have my ass.” I scoot so that I’m nearer to him.
He looks down at what I’m offering and then back to my face. And damn them, the tears begin to leak out. No, they’re not supposed to come until he starts punishing me. That way they’ll be earned and he’ll know he—
Dominick looks down at me and I see a look come over his face that he gets when he used to talk about his terminal patients—such utter compassion mixed with desolation. “What did we do to you, beautiful?”
Oh God, he’s rejecting me. I’m offering up everything and it’s still not good enough. I’m disgusting and he—
“Shhh,” he pulls off his shirt and then lays down on the bed, immediately pulling me to him, skin to skin.
“Shhh,” he whispers again. He settles me against him, my back to his chest, spooning me just like we used to. “You’re beautiful and perfect just as you are. You don’t need to be punished for anything.”
I blink, glad I’m faced away from him. I feel like I’m coming out of a fog, steadied again now that he’s holding me like this. And oh my God, I’m horrified at myself. Why did I just— How could I act like that again?
“Can I tell you a story?” Dominick continues before I can respond one way or another. “Once there was a boy who grew up with a really fucked-up Dad. This boy’s father was very verbally abusive and would hit him occasionally too. The father was strict and happy to punish the son whenever he wasn’t living up to the father’s exacting standards. The father loved to manipulate people and he was very good at it. So the boy grew up with a very skewed perception of how the world worked.”
I swallow hard even as his arms tighten around my middle. “And sex. The boy got a very warped perception of that too. After being introduced to it by an adult who should have known better, the father decided it could be just one more tool to control the son.”
Oh, Dominick. All this time, I thought I was the only naïve one. But I wasn’t. In some ways, Dominick was almost as inexperienced as me.
“So the son never got to have sex without the father being there,” he continues, “in control and directing every session. Doling out punishment when he saw fit. It was all the son had ever known, even though he’d grown to be a man at this point, and should have long ago stood up to his father.”
I tuck my arm around Dominick’s where it lays over my waist. So much is becoming clear now.
“And then the boy met a girl. The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, different from anyone he’d known before. But the father had already set a trap for her, determined to pull her into his manipulative, fucked-up games.” Dominick’s forehead presses against the back of my neck. “At the wedding all he said to me was, she’s beautiful and sweet, let’s share. Those were his exact words.”
I shudder at them talking about me in such crass terms.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He presses kisses to the back of my neck, then holds me even closer. “I didn’t realize then that I would be helping him do to you what he’d done to me—completely screw up your perception of what sex should be. Christ, you never even had a chance. We were fucking predators from the beginning. I didn’t know you
were a virgin. That you’d never— But Christ, it doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry. It’ll never make up for— I don’t expect you to ever forgive me—”
“Stop.” I twist around in his arms and kiss him to stop his self-recriminations. “Stop,” I whisper again, pulling back. I breathe out, pressing my forehead to his. Finally, I feel like I know the truth. I think about every moment Dominick and I spent together. Getting to know him. Us learning each other’s bodies. And how I saw him grow and even start standing up to his father by the end.
“I believe you.” I lean my head back and laugh. “Oh God, I believe you.” The weight that’s been cinching my lungs all year long finally lifts and I take what feels like the first full breath in twelve months.
When I look back down at Dominick, he’s staring at me like I’m nuts. I laugh a little more before kissing his nose, then his cheeks and finally his lips again.
He’s still looking at me like I might be a crazy person, but I finally let him in on why I feel like I’m suddenly walking on air.
“It was real,” I whisper, tearing up again. But this time with happy tears. Such fucking happy tears. “And that means… you…”
“Love you,” he finishes for me, eyes fervent. “I love you. Forever. Always. Until you’re a wrinkled old woman and I’m a little old man. No,” he shakes his head. “Way beyond that. For eternity. Infinity.”
I laugh and pull his face to mine. “I love you too.” We kiss and we kiss and we kiss and we kiss.
But it’s quickly not enough for me. My breast are crushed against his huge, muscled chest and I can feel his cock, hard and long in his soft cotton sleep pants. My legs slide open and I press against him.
He hisses out my name as I dry hump him. God, it drives me crazy being this close. I’d forgotten this feeling—how my stomach absolutely goes liquid with desire when I’m in his arms. This pulsating need to get closer, always closer.
“Get your goddamned pants off,” I groan, shoving myself against him several more times. He laughs, since obviously he can’t drop his drawers with me wrapped around him like this. Finally, I compromise, reaching to shove the elastic waistband of his pants down just enough to free that beautiful cock I’ve missed so much. I grab it confidently and give him a firm jerk up and down, which has him hissing through his teeth again.
I grin and look him in the eye while I continue stroking him. I’m definitely not the shy, naïve girl he first met. But from the way he’s grinning at me, he’s loving every bit of the new me. His cock flexes in my hand, sending my own sex spasming.
“Found a new toy you like?” he asks, his devilish grin still in place.
“You have no idea.” I lick my lips. Then I drop down and lick just the crown of his cock, keeping eye contact the whole time.
He looks like he might swallow his tongue, his face gets so blissed out. “Fuck, Sarah.” He collapses back onto his elbows.
I keep a firm hold on his giant cock so I can pump him up and down with my hand while licking all around the bulging head. When I finally give in and suction my mouth around him, he swears and collapses back onto the bed, but only for a second before he’s propping himself up to watch me again.
I suck him in as far as I can take him and then I relax my throat muscles to swallow him further still. When it’s not being forced on me, I find that I love the power of this position. I hum around him and his hands shoot to my hair. He doesn’t hold me down, though, he just starts to caress me.
“So fucking beautiful. Christ, Sarah. I love you. I fucking love you.”
And then he does apply pressure, but only because he’s pulling me off of him. I lick his cock the whole way off and let go of him with a loud pop. And then he’s lifting my body up the bed so that we’re face to face. His lips devour mine as he rolls us over and pins me beneath him.
“I need inside you.” His voice is a low, hungry growl, and the huge cock that was just down my throat bobs at my wet netherlips. “Can I?”
Always waiting for permission. Never taking without asking. This is the man I love. Our eyes lock again as I reach down and guide him inside. We both breathe out in pleasure when he enters me.
As turned on as I am, I’m tight and he feels it. I simply haven’t had sex very often—three times in twelve months doesn’t exactly make me well traveled down there.
He’s slow in his rediscovery of me, and his face reflects his wonder at every moment. “Sarah.” Even my name sounds like a song on his lips as he pushes in so slowly, so achingly slowly, filling me up bit by bit. I relax and let him in. I want to receive him greedily even though I know my body needs a moment to adjust. He’s so large and I know it would kill him if he hurt me even a little bit.
Finally, finally, he’s fully seated inside me. We rest there a second, me full of him, pelvises touching, his hazel eyes searching mine. With as turned on as I know he is, it’s got to be killing him not to be pumping for friction now. But he stays still, concerned eyes watching me like he’s trying to see if I’m feeling any discomfort at all.
“I love you so much, Dominick.” I lean up and kiss him, which causes him to shift slightly inside me. It only feels good and makes my sex start to thrum with need. I pull back and hold his face. “Make love to me.”
And he does. With an achingly slow glide out and then another gentle push in, he starts making love to me. The warm glow begins to build inside. Desperately, I wrap my legs around his waist and clutch him to me.
“Dominick,” I cry out, feeling so vulnerable in this moment. But not afraid. Never afraid with him so close.
I think he feels it too because he starts shaking again like he was back at the cemetery. He kisses my lips, down my neck, to my breasts, then back up to my mouth. Until finally, he just holds me to him, thrusting in and out, faster now as we both seek release. I meet him with each plunge, clutching him by the back of his neck, feeling his corded muscles flex and seeing beads of sweat break out on his forehead.
His features knot into an expression that looks like a mixture of pleasure and pain and I imagine I look the same.
And oh God— It’s rising higher, but harder too. Not just a mere wave this time. It’s building like a tsunami. What is he doing to me? I didn’t know it could even—
We lock eyes and clutch at each other for dear life.
And then SLAM—the blast of pleasure bowls me over. I scream and scrabble for a grip on his skin. He continues pumping into me, harder and rougher than before until he finally stills and pulses so hard, so full—
Everything is a blinding yellow-white light for one heartbeat. Two. Three.
A glimpse of heaven.
Dominick is with me there every second of the way.
And then I drop back down to earth.
Dominick’s still here. Sweating and his chest pumping like a bellows as he gasps for breath. Then he’s kissing me all over again and moving his cock in and out several more times as he groans my name. “Christ, Sarah, I love you so much. You’re so beautiful. So perfect. I love you. Love you. Love you.” Until his mutters are broken off by more kissing.
I laugh and wrap my arms around his waist. I hold him as tight as humanly possible. I’m never letting go.
All throughout that night we make love. Sometimes gentle, sometimes hard and rough, and then gentle again. I touch heaven more than once, and each time, Dominick’s there with me.
And finally, I know for once and for all, I’ll never be alone again.
BURN ME
By Stasia Black
Prologue
SCARLETT
I sit on a plush chair with a club soda in my hand, back ramrod straight, and stare at the man I love while he destroys me.
“So, while I do love social calls,” Kennedy says, calmly looking around at the three investors he’s called together to the back room of his restaurant. “I know your time is money. And that’s why I asked you here. You might have heard I’m putting together a group to buy The Sutler hotel.” Kennedy stands up a
s he continues outlining the deal. He walks the short distance to where I’m sitting.
He comes to a stop in front of me and holds out a hand. He’s still talking to the men, but he smiles down at me. But there’s something off about the smile.
Way off.
The glint in his eyes is hard. Almost cruel.
Whatever he brought me here for, it’s about to play out.
If I let it.
How did we get here? None of this was supposed to happen. I was never supposed to get in this deep. I was certainly never supposed to fall in love.
Kennedy keeps his hand outstretched to me, unmoving. He’s waiting for me to take it. To partner with him in this game of cruel intentions.
I stare up at him. Just days ago this man told me he loved me in the most tender of voices. His eyes had been so open. His soul bared.
But now? Now he looks ruthless, through and through. Over the last month, I’ve wanted to pretend he wasn’t the monster I long thought him to be.
God, I see it now. I see it all so clearly.
I take Kennedy’s hand and pull myself up to standing. This goddamn bastard. He wants to punish me? I’ll take whatever game he wants to play and dish it back three times as hard.
He wouldn’t even let me explain. He wouldn’t listen to a single word from me. After everything he did, after every benefit of the doubt I gave him.
I stand in front of him and glare him down, just as hard and furious as he is.
His sales pitch falters and I arch an eyebrow in challenge. He swallows hard and then his eyebrows furrow. He walks around me until he’s standing at my back.
It takes all my presence of mind, but I don’t look over my shoulder at him. I stare straight ahead.