"She got so mad when we asked her if we should turn back."
"What did she say?" Dom had taken a position at the front of the group, the leader setting the pace after Duke's long-legged strides proved too strenuous for Grandma.
"My dad offered to carry her, and she told him she would ground him if he touched her." It took her a long time to say it, each word buffeted by breaths dragged into her throat.
I look up at Dom and find him looking at me. "Savage," we say in unison, smiling in that way that's not actually happy, butwe're both desperate for an ounce of reprieve from the gloom that hangs heavy in our hearts.
A crack of thunder rings in the distance.
Dom gets up from the bed, going to stand beside the window. "That storm is headed right for us."
"It appears so."
"Everyone else said they were going to take a nap." He turns back to me. His eyes are as dark as the incoming storm. "Maybe we should, too."
I pop up to my elbows. "You want to take a nap?"
Hunger floods his eyes. Heat. "A very specific kind of nap."
My teeth skim my bottom lip. "Does this specific kind of nap have a name?"
He considers. "Active nap."
I pretend to deliberate, tipping my head back-and-forth. "I suppose I could be convinced."
Dom presses the button on the wall, and the automatic shutters lower. Bit by bit, the room darkens. The only light is from above, but even that grows darker by the minute as the storm approaches.
Dom walks closer. Stalks, really. A predator. I lift my chin. He smiles, wolfish.
Climbing onto the bed, he grips my knees and spreads my legs apart, settling between them.
He palms my thighs. "I told you I was going to be so nice to you."
You also said you were going to fuck your wife the way a husband should.
I loved it in the moment when he said that. So strong, so certain. I felt like I was his. His wife, but for real.
Dom reaches for my calves, bending my knees and placing my feet on the bed. My dress falls down to my hips. Dom lets out a moan of approval as his eyes rake over me.
"Another one of these pretty silk thongs," he comments, finger tracing up the center of the fabric.
I say nothing, hips bucking at his touch. I suppose the motion speaks for me.
He hooks his finger around the side of the silk, pulling it aside like a curtain. "So fucking inviting." He drags a finger along me, teasing. "Am I invited?" His eyes remain fastened to me.
Half-drunk for this man, I say, "Not if you've been eating spicy peppers."
He grunts a laugh. "I won't eat spicy food ever again."
"You don't have to give up your favorite food for me."
He leans down suddenly, pressing his mouth to me. The comforter bundles in my grasp as I search for something to hold on to.
He drags a slow circle over me, then lifts his head and says, "I have a new favorite meal."
I am done.Done.My hands reach down, fingernails raking through those caramel curls. Thunder overhead, thetip tap tip tapof raindrops hitting the canvas.
Dom teases me relentlessly, lapping at me, drawing it out. "Please," I finally whisper, and Dom immediately listens. Slipping his hands under my backside, he lifts me, like I really am a meal.
