I press my lips to her ear. “It’s their loss.”
“Dominic,” she whispers as her body begins to writhe and tremble under me.
“Yes, tesoro,” I reply and finally give her what her body is craving, moving faster, a bit harder, inside her. “Come for me.”
“Oh, God,” she breathes and her body shudders, tenses and comes apart at the seams beneath me, crying out my name.
My name.
“That’s right,” I say raggedly. I pull out of her and urge her onto her back, settle between her legs, and sink inside her still-trembling pussy as her arms and legs envelope me tenderly. She sinks her fingers in my hair and watches me with wide, glassy brown eyes as she hitches her knees up around my hips, opening herself up to me completely. “This is me with you, Alecia. Not your ex, or any other idiot who let you get away from him. It’s just you and me.” I nibble her lips and make slow, sweet love to her, drunk on her. I push one hand under her ass, bringing her flush against me.
“You and me, understand?”
“You and me,” she agrees, before pulling my lower lip between her teeth, and I can’t hold myself back any longer. I bury my face in her neck as the orgasm shoots its way through me. I rock my pelvis against hers and come inside her as she cries out and clenches around me once again, coming along for the ride.
After I catch my breath, I brace myself on my elbows, taking my weight off of her and grin down at her softly. “I think we need another shower.”
“I think you’re right.” She chuckles and her pussy squeezes me, instantly making me hard again.
“Later,” I murmur with a smile and hitch her leg up over my shoulder. “It seems I’m not finished with you.”
Chapter Eleven
~Alecia~
“It’s just you and me.” Dom’s words echo in my mind as I slowly slip from a dreamless sleep to lazy wakefulness. His arm is draped gently around my waist, his chest pressed against my back. Even in sleep, he’s holding me against him.
You and me.
I grin and take a deep breath, then shimmy around so I’m facing him. His face is relaxed in sleep, his lips closed, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks.
What’s up with men having better eyelashes than women?
I nudge the tip of his nose with mine, then place a gentle kiss on his lips and scoot out from under his arm and pad sleepily into the bathroom.
I desperately need that shower we never got around to last night.
Not that I’m complaining.
My body is humming, extra sensitive from all of Dominic’s attention as I step into the spray of water and grin to myself as I begin soaping up my body.
I’m still scared out of my mind. I’m not going to lie to myself and try to think that I’m suddenly a hearts and flowers kind of girl. I’m still not so sure that shit exists, but what Dom said last night made complete sense. What I feel with him is unique to him. To us. It has nothing at all to do with either of our pasts.
He has nothing to do with Jonathan, or my parents.
It’s just him and me.
And damn if it’s not the safest feeling I’ve ever had.
I finish shaving my legs, grinning when I see his fingerprints in my thigh muscles.
Yep, damn sexy.
Is it weird that I think it’s hot that Dominic left fingerprint bruises on my skin?
I shrug, turn the tap off, quickly dry my skin and wrap up in a large, fluffy, blue towel, then lean across the vanity and swipe the fog from the mirror before moisturizing my face.
If he touches me the way he did last night, he can leave bruises anywhere he wants.
I smirk and brush out my hair, then twist it up onto the back of my head, securing it with pins. Just as I lower my arms, Dom appears behind me in the mirror. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are pinned to mine as he gently squeezes my shoulders and kisses my neck, in that spot that he knows makes me weak in the knees. His hands glide down my arms, to my hands, which he guides to the counter top.
“Leave your hands right here,” he whispers against my ear.
I bite my lip and close my eyes, but he leans past me, his long arm reaching around me and wipes the fog that has reformed on the mirror away.
“Keep your eyes open, cara.”
I find his gaze in the mirror once more. His lips twitch with humor, his dimple winks at me, and the next thing I know, my towel is gone and tossed on the floor. My eyebrows climb as his eyes rake over me, from my face, down my chest, to my stomach in the mirror, then he pulls back and his eyes take the same tour of my body from behind.
And just like that, I’m on fucking fire.
“Dom—”
“I didn’t say you could talk,” he murmurs lazily, but his eyes are direct and firm as they meet mine in the glass.
I love it when he gets bossy.
He pulls the tip of his finger down the nape of my neck, and continues down my spine, sending gooseflesh over my skin. When he reaches the small of my back, he grips my hips in both hands and urges me back, bent over, sticking my ass in the air. His hands slide back to cup my ass gently, reverently, and I can already feel the moisture forming between my thighs.
Jesus, I want him like crazy, and I just had him a few hours ago.
“I thought about taking you like this last night,” he says softly, his fingertips gliding up and down my sides. It would normally tickle the hell out of me, but all it does is make my nipples pucker in anticipation. “But I decided this wasn’t what you needed then.”
He leans over me and plants his lips in the crook of my neck, then finds my gaze with his again as he grips my hands and moves them from the countertop to the mirror.
“Lean on the glass,” he instructs me firmly. He cups both of my breasts and tweaks my firm nipples with his thumbs. “I like you in this position. With your ass pushed out, spread open for me.”
My jaw drops as I watch his tanned hands move over my white skin.
“I want you to keep your hands on the mirror, cara. And I don’t want you to watch me.”
I frown at him, not understanding.
“You’re to keep your eyes open, but I want you to watch you.” He kisses my spine, right between my shoulder blades as his thumbs continue to torture my nipples. “I want you to see what I do to you.”
I know what he does to me. He makes me completely crazy. He makes me feel like my body is turning inside out.
He makes me lose myself.
I open my mouth, but before I can speak he says, “Don’t argue with me, unless you want this to stop.”
Forget bossy. Try tyrannical.