A slow, wicked smile curves his lips. “My pretty face does get me whatever I want,” he murmurs.
Heat floods my cheeks. My breath catches as he leans in, his hips ghosting against mine, his voicebrushing my lips like smoke. “And right now?” His mouth trails lower until his lips hover just above my jaw. “I want the little tease who bit me.”
My breath stutters. He shifts his grip in my hair, angling my face as his mouth finally touches me. A soft drag of lips along mine that sets my whole body on fire. His mouth moves lower, warm heat brushing my throat. His teeth graze my skin and my legs nearly buckle.
“Too bad,” I breathe, head falling back as he kisses down my neck. “You’re not getting it.”
He bites the soft pulse of my throat with a growl. My hands fly to him instinctively, fingers digging into his shirt to keep myself upright. He lifts his head, smiling that cruel smile. He pulls me closer by my hair, not hurting, just guiding.
“You think I haven’t been fighting myself every fucking day not to take what you keep offering me?” he says. “Tonight, I’m taking the offer, Jessica.”
He leans down and covers my lips with his. Dominic’s kiss is rough and hungry—teeth and heat, his mouth hot and insistent. I taste metal. Blood. Him. It makes something feral come alive in me. His handangles my head exactly where he wants it, and I melt into him despite myself.
His hand slips from my hair to my waist, both palms settling there before my feet leave the floor. He walks me backward, mouth still fused to mine. My stomach falls when he drops me onto the bed. I sink into the mattress, and Dominic climbs after me.
He crawls up my body, muscles shifting under his shirt, eyes locked on mine like I’m something he’s been hunting for weeks.
I can’t believe this is happening. This is what happens in the movies—the moment girls giggle about in theaters. Only I’m not watching. I’m in it. With an NHL captain.
His weight dips the mattress as he settles over me, chest inches from mine. I’ve imagined this, but imagination doesn’t prepare you for the real thing: the way he looks above me, how my body reacts, and how fear and excitement twist together into something delicious.
I’ve never done this before. Never felt someone’s weight, someone’s breath, someone’s hunger. I’m notexperienced. What if I embarrass myself? But I want him so badly that the need swallows my paranoia.
He dips his head until his lips brush the corner of my mouth, testing and teasing. He nudges my knees apart with his knee, and my body jolts.
“I should’ve fucked the attitude out of you that night at the club,” he snarls. “And every time you run that bratty little mouth.”
Fucked me? Oh God. My thighs squeeze together instinctively. His hand lands on my inner thigh, firm and deliberate.
“After seeing you flirt with that scrawny prick by the bar? Like you forgot whose name you’ve been moaning in your sleep.” His fingers slide higher up my dress and I shudder, my back arching again.
“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he murmurs, his voice like fire licking my skin. “To see what happens when you push me too far.”
“Did it work?” I breathe, mustering all the fire I have.
Dominic smiles, lowering his head, kissing my neck. “Mhm,” he hums.
“Good,” I say, glaring when he pulls away. “Suffer.”
His mouth curves into a slow, knowing smirk. His fingers tighten on my thigh and his mouth drops to my chest. Every thought dies as he sucks my nipple through the dress—enough to make me jolt.
My hands scramble for something to hold onto, and I end up clutching his biceps, thick, flexed, solid as stone.
“You think you’re in control here?” He says against my breast, lips brushing the fabric. “You think you get to tease me for weeks, then run away when shit gets real?”
I twist beneath him, head swimming. “You can’t handle it?” I whisper.
He drags his hand back up the inside of my thigh, right to the place that’s already soaked. He pauses there and presses the heel of his palm against me through the thin fabric. My hips betray me, pushing into his hand without my permission.
A low chuckle leaves him. His hand disappears before reappearing on my thigh. It slides down the sides of my legs, then curls beneath the hem of my dress. Without breaking eye contact, he starts to push the dress up—inch by inch, his fingers grazing my skin,hiking the fabric higher and higher until the soft material bunches around my hips, pooling like a halo of silk at my waist.
I’m breathing too fast, high on anticipation. His eyes drop between my legs and I’m sure he sees the wet spot on my panties. I blink past my embarrassment.
“Never seen a woman’s underwear before?” I bite, trying to steady my voice, but it comes out cracked.
He chuckles, ridiculing the question. “You always this wet when you get mouthy?”
I open my mouth to speak, but his fingers hook under my panties and slide them aside. The cold air hits me there and I jerk beneath him, my whole body seizing up.
