“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “When you left for the twenty-four-hour reprieve, I felt like I couldn’t breathe right. Like something was missing.”
His forehead drops to rest against mine, and I feel the tremor that runs through him.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he whispers. “But I need you to know that what happened between us during the Hunt, what I feel for you, that wasn’t fake.”
I stare at Dominic, stunned by this display of vulnerability from a man who’s come across as carved from stone. The hard edges I’ve come to associate with him have softened, revealing something human underneath. For a moment, something inside me melts at the sight of a powerful, dominant man like him looking at me with what appears to be genuine regret.
But I can’t afford to be fooled again. I can’t mistake desire for care, or possession for love.
“I need to pack my things,” I say firmly, stepping back from his touch. “We have a fucking year to talk about this, Dominic. A whole year that you and your friends claimed me for. Right now, I need some space.”
His eyes darken at my words. He moves closer, backing me against the wall. Before I can protest, his mouth is on mine, demanding and insistent.
I push against his chest, turning my face away. “Don’t?—”
But his hands frame my face, gentler than his kiss, bringing my mouth back to his. I struggle against him, teeth catching his bottom lip harder than necessary.
Instead of pulling back, he groans, pressing his body flush against mine. The sound awakens something dark within, a mix of anger and desire tangling together until I can’t separate them anymore.
I kiss him back with violence instead of tenderness, my fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough to bruise. I pour all my rage into the kiss, biting and taking rather than giving.
Dominic’s body responds instantly, his cock hardening against me as he crowds me further against the wall. When we finally break apart for air, his pupils are blown wide, his perfect composure shattered.
“That’s it,” he growls, voice rough with arousal. “Show me your claws, baby girl. I like it when you fight back.”
I’m still furious with him, still hurt beyond words—but this anger feels like power in a way I’ve never experienced before.
And Dominic wanting me to fight him lights up a very dark place inside me.
I’ve spent my life defying my father but always tiptoeing around him—knowing exactly when to push and when to retreat. Always playing by unspoken rules that keep me safe. But this is different. This isn’t rebellion or defiance. This is primal.
With my father, resistance means punishment. With Dominic, resistance means pleasure for both of us.
“I should hate you,” I whisper against his mouth, my breath coming quick and shallow.
His hands tighten on my hips, thumbs pressing into the bruises he and the others left on my skin during the Hunt. “You probably should.”
I feel the hardness of him against me, his desire unmistakable. And despite everything—despite the humiliation, despite the betrayal, despite knowing better—my body responds in kind.
“I do hate you,” I tell him, even as I arch against him.
“Good,” he says, voice thick with arousal. “Hold onto that. Use it.”
The darkness inside me unfurls like ink in water. The tension between us crackles like lightning through the sky. It’s dark and dangerous, but so is everything between us.
“I want you to fuck me while I fight you,” I whisper, the words escaping before I can second-guess them.
Dominic freezes, his eyes widening before narrowing. A feral expression crosses his face—hunger, possession, and a dark delight that makes my core clench with anticipation.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I lean forward, my lips brushing his ear. “Midnight,” I whisper. “If I say ‘midnight,’ you stop. No matter what.”
The moment the safe word passes between us, something shifts. Contract established. Boundaries set. Freedom to explore safely.
His reaction is immediate. His hand shoots up to my throat, not squeezing but applying firm pressure as he slams me back against the wall. The controlled violence in his movement sends a thrill racing down my spine.
“You think fighting me will change anything?” he growls, pressing his body against mine. “You signed that contract, baby girl. You’re mine now.”
