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And then he’s undoing his pants and kicking them off when they hit the ground.
Boxers. He’s left in nothing but boxers, and they’re not doing anything to hide the fact that he’s rock-hard beneath them.
“W-what are you doing?” I know I should lie down and face the other way, but I can’t. I just can’t turn away from him.
“There wasn’t room to addTil Deathnext to your name. So I had to find somewhere else to put it.”
Speechless, I stare as he pushes down the waistband of his boxers to his hips.
I don’t even notice that the patch of hair trailing down from his belly button has been shaved. I can’t possibly focus on that. Because there, right above Dom’s cock—like directly above the base of his fucking cock—are the wordsTil Death.
Big block letters to match hisValentine.
A lewd, oversized version of the tinyTil Deathon my fingertip.
“You’re insane.” I almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. Except I’m too turned on to laugh. I want to trace the letters on this one, too.
“More often than not,” Dom admits as he drops into the chair. Lounging back, he dips his fingers in the ointment and rubs it over the fresh ink.
I want to be the one doing that.
His eyes stay on me as he rubs over the letters.
Not able to take it anymore, I drop onto my back and stare at the ceiling.
This is insane.
I keep staring.
For about five seconds. Then I turn my head to look back at Dominic.
And I have to bite my lip to trap the moan trying to come out of my throat because he’s pushing his boxers lower.
CHAPTER30
Dom
The lookon Valentine’s face makes every second I spent under the needle worth it.
Her eyes are locked on my lap, and when I pull the band of my boxers low enough for my dick to spring free, she sucks in an inhale. Like she was holding her breath, waiting to see it.
I know I haven’t done enough to earn another taste of her sweetness. So I won’t take it. Not yet. But after the last twenty-four hours, I need a fucking release.
And so does she.
My hand closes around the base of my dick. Squeezing.
“You’re gonna stay right there, Valentine,” I say when I see her glance to the other side of the room, as if she’s thinking about making a break for it. “It’s been a long day.” I drag my hand up my length, squeezing even tighter just below the tip. “And if you run, I’m chasing.”
Val makes a sound—somewhere between worry and excitement.
I grip my base with my other hand as I start to stroke. “Now, slide your hand down all that soft skin and touch yourself.”
“Dominic…” She wants to protest. To tell me she’s not turned on. But I can see it in her eyes. I can see it in the way she can’t look away from my dick. I can see it in the rise and fall of her chest.
“You’re wearing my fucking shirt. And you’re going to touch yourself in it.” I keep my strokes slow.
She hesitates.
