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All of the air leaves my lungs in a woosh that has nothing to do with the weight of his body on top of me and everything to do with the desperate way I wish he knew he’s been the only thing I’ve been able to feel since the moment he grabbed my hand in Club Noir.
His eyes on my face.
His fingers in my hair.
His lips on my skin.
Completely unaware of the way his words are devastating me, Dom continues. “I love fucking your mouth, Sloane, but nothing compares to being inside you. Feeling every pull and squeeze of your pussy while you come all over me. Hearing you say my name through those soft, breathless moans while you beg me for more. That’s what I want right now. Can I have that, baby?”
The last part is a gentle question, whispered to me as he searches my face, and I’m almost annoyed by it because we agreed having a safe word would mean no more mental check-ups on his end, but I think him getting me through today earns him a pass.
“Yes.” You can have whatever you want from me.
He releases my hip and slides his free hand up to grab my left one, lacing his fingers through mine. Then he starts to kiss me. Gentle glides of his lips over mine that are somehow still firm and demanding. When his tongue sweeps over my bottom lip, I open for him instantly. Hungry for his taste, desperate for any part of his body to invade mine.
And when he finally slides into me, with one heavy thrust of his dick that’s met with no resistance from my soaked core, I moan into his mouth. I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to the feel of him inside of me, the delicious stretch of my walls that balances neatly on the edge of pleasure and pain.
How fitting that I would discover my need for both in his arms. In this relationship where pleasure could only ever exist with pain.
Dom swallows the sound with a groan of his own and starts a painfully slow rhythm. Every drive of his hips is a maddening swivel that grinds his pelvic bone over my clit and makes my breasts bounce. He breaks our kiss just to watch the movement, his eyes growing impossibly darker as I squirm beneath his inspection and prepare for an increase in tempo, a variation in the force of his hips that never comes.
Instead, he returns his dark gaze to mine and brings our joined hands to his lips. Laying a soft kiss to each one of my knuckles, lingering just a moment longer on my ring finger before moving on to the next one. When he’s done, he presses them back into the pillows and brings his forehead down to mine. We’re both panting, our sweat-slick skin sticking together, as he drives into me at that same even pace until I climax without warning, catching us both by surprise.
“That’s it, angel.” He murmurs against my lips, nipping at the broken sounds spilling from my lips. “Give it up to me. Let me hear you.”
Honestly, I don’t have a choice because short of biting down on my tongue, there’s nothing I can do to quiet my moans or stop the tears leaking out of my eyes as I writhe underneath him and whisper a mixture of his name and a phrase I think is supposed to be ‘Oh God.’ Moments later, I feel him tensing above me and his movements grow jerky. He drives into me once, twice, and then a third time before grunting my name and exploding inside of me.
Dom brushes his nose over mine, pride shining in his eyes along with something so tender it almost looks like love. Don’t project your feelings onto him. I shake the thought away and force myself to stay in the moment.
When this is all over, I’ll have all the time in the world to break my own heart by replaying moments just like this one and dreaming of what could have been, but for now, I just need to focus on this.
On the feel of Dom sliding out of me and collapsing on the bed beside me. On the way his heart is racing when he pulls me close to him and I lay my head on his chest. On his fingers trailing up and down my spine as we both recover from the rawest, most intimate sex we’ve ever had.
.
35
Sloane
Now
“Don’t you look pretty!”
Mama stands up from her seat at the table and pulls me into a tight hug. I hug her back just as fiercely, breathing in the familiar scent of her. She always smells like home to me. Like the creamy, buttery goodness of fresh baked cakes and pies. I love hugging her. Love being enveloped in the bubble of security that is her orbit.
It’s the best place to be, especially when you feel a little off-kilter and anxious, which is exactly what I’ve been since I woke up on Tuesday morning and realized the swell of tender feelings pressing against my rib cage, and making a mockery out of my promise to never feel this way for another man, hadn’t gone anywhere.
In all honesty, I didn’t think that they would.
But if they had, ending things in a few weeks would be a lot easier. And I wouldn’t have spent the last two days biting the hell out of my tongue to keep myself from confessing my love to Dom every time I spoke to him. And he isn’t making it easy. With his impossibly handsome face, body built for sin, and heart made of gold. Every time he touches me, every time he looks at me, every sweet word he whispers to me while he’s buried inside me feels like it’s tailor-made to rip the words from my soul.
And Lord, am I tired of fighting.
That’s why when Mama called me today and asked me to grab an early dinner with her, I texted Dom to say I would be home late and jumped on the opportunity. Plus, getting some one-on-one time with my favorite mother-in-law is an added bonus. I squeeze her a little bit tighter before letting her go so we can sit.
“Thank you!” We both beam at each other from across the table. “You look beautiful as well.”
She’s decked out in a burnt orange sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. The sweater is a little more form-fitting than she usually wears, and I force back the comment about her taking Mal’s advice to spice up her wardrobe because she’d never admit it anyway. A petite Black girl with a sweet smile comes over and takes our food and drink order. When she’s gone, Mama fiddles with the napkin in front of her before meeting my eyes.
