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Whatever. I finally feel like she’s not my problem. And oh my God, it’s such a relief. I feel free. For the first time in my life. Free and young and just… happy.

Happiness.

What a crazy concept, right?

Well, a little less happy tonight since Dad and Dominick aren’t home, but I can’t be greedy. I get them so much of the rest of the time.

I yawn as the little scribbled numbers blur on the page. I’ve been working on this Statistics homework until I feel cross-eyed.

If I’m honest—yes, I wanted to distract myself so I wouldn’t miss the boys. The house always used to be this empty, but now it just feels wrong not to hear the TV on or the shower running somewhere or Dom’s big clonking footsteps jogging up and down the stairwell. I glance at the clock.

It’s eleven. My yawn stretches wider. Okay. I should be able to sleep now.

I wash up, switch on my night light, and turn in.

Dominick sleeps over so much that my second pillow has started to smell like him. I bury my nose in his pillow and inhale. His scent is comforting.

It takes some time, but the math homework did its job and soon I’m nodding off.



And then I start to dream.

It’s one of those dreams.

Dominick’s big body is curled up behind me. His arm drapes over my waist. Chin nestled in the crook of my neck. Just like always.

It’s completely innocent.

Until it’s not.

Dominick’s hand moves up. His large hand easily envelops my breast. My breasts aren’t tiny but they feel that way in his huge hands. And then he gently squeezes—

What the—

Not gentle, not gentle!

He’s jerking at my nipple. Pulling and plucking and—

My eyes shoot open.

I’m not alone in my bed.

I swing around to look behind me, confused and just what the—

Dominick.

I blink and breathe and—

“Dominick?”

He’s not supposed to be here tonight. He had a double.

But it’s definitely Dominick, long floppy hair and all, laying behind me. With his hand on— His hand is on my—

“I need you tonight, beautiful,” he whispers and there’s something off about his voice. It comes out ragged and choked. “I’ve tried to fight it, I know it’s wrong, but today was just…” He shakes his head, his features contorting. “I need you.”

And then he rolls me so that I’m flat on my back and his lips are on my lips. Next thing I know, his body is over mine and his weight is pressing me into the mattress.

His mouth invades mine, pressing for entry.

I, but I—

His hand moves from my breast and drops lower. Before I even have my bearings, one of his thick fingers is pressing at my entrance. Down there.

His finger meets wetness and slides right inside me. I gasp in shock as my whole body shudders and pleasure.

That’s when I really wake up.

Holy crap.

Dominick is here.

Dominick is touching me.

Dominick is touching me like that.

I start kissing him back just as hungrily.

I don’t know what’s going on. If this is a dream, it’s like nothing I’ve ever— I mean, I never knew anything could even be like—

“God, Dominick,” I whisper in between panting gasps. I can’t breathe. I’m going to die because I can’t breathe. He’s stealing my breath. It’s so good. So good.

“Fuck, Sarah, say it again,” he whispers. His voice still has that deep, desperate quality to it. “You don’t know how long I’ve needed to hear you say my name like that. You’ve been fucking torturing me.”

“Dominick,” I breathe out and he lunges against me.

That part of him. I feel it. Hard as a rod. Hot and hard, pressing against my stomach. He swivels and swirls his hips as he kisses me deep.

He pulls back suddenly.

No, God, did I do something wrong—?

But it’s only so he can lift me up long enough to pull off my tiny shirt. He pauses for a moment just staring at me. “Holy fuck, little sister. Are you telling me this is what I’ve been sleeping just inches away from for weeks?” He sounds mesmerized. And his words. I’ve never known him to be so vulgar.

It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

He drops down and starts to suckle one of my breasts, shoving them together with both his hands, licking down the crevice he creates, then taking the other in his mouth.

When he bites down a little on the nipple, I can’t help crying out and jerking against him. “That’s right, beautiful,” he says, licking and then blowing on the nipple he just abused, “let me hear all your noises. There’s no one else home. I want it all. I fucking need it.”

When he nips at the second nipple, oh God, I do what he wants. I let him hear.

The way he’s positioned, lower now, when he pistons his hips forward, his steel rod presses right up against the spot his fingers invaded just a moment ago.


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