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ONE
DOMINIC
Istood onhisbalcony for the hundredth time, maybe more, maybe less. I’d lost track in the years since he’d stormed out of my house and out of my life.
He hadn’t called, but neither had I. There came a time when we had to admit our lives didn’t fit. Love wasn’t enough, and neither was faith when we’d have to give up our identities or lives to be together. My kind hated vampires.
But that didn’t stop me from watching him on those long nights. I couldn’t stand to go to bed alone.
So here I stood on the other side of the glass, torturing myself because he wasn’t alone.
He was never alone.
A woman was on her knees at his feet, arms delicately laced behind her back. He’d spent time on the shibari. She wore a blindfold. They always did. Vin hated to let anyone see him for what he really was, and I guess if there was a silver lining to any of this cursed life, it was that. Only I got those parts of him, more than I should. I was the only one to see him fully, get inside his head, and I was addicted.
But that didn’t stop me from hating every one of them he gave his time to.
These strings that bind us. I’d tried to cut them so many times. But every pull brings me back to him.
How many times have I tried to quit you, only to be back seeking out a taste of our fever dream?
Maybe this ache in my chest wasn’t a tie at all, but how I absolved myself from my inability to move on.
The girl he toyed with dripped with arousal. I could see it plain as day, and it stirred something inside me. A sick something. I hated it but wanted more. I never stayed long enough to watch him take anyone. I didn’t trust myself. It was hard enough to temper my rage, but I was still here, and I wasn’t sure what that said about me.
I knew what he was when I met him, so I shouldn’t have been surprised he’d returned to this. I guess I had hoped I’d be harder to get over or that he’d feel guilty about the number of them he had groveling at his feet.
She wasn’t the only one in the room with him. He had two others. Another one of his rules. Before and after me, he’d only ever been with groups. An excuse to never get attached. Less personal. No one got his full attention. He was watching a boy, also on his knees and tied up exquisitely, deep-throat another who was bound to an iron cross. Both were blindfolded. His eyes lingered on the exchange, but it was almost lazy, like there was merely no better place to look. While he watched, the girl at his feet inched closer to him. She pressed her face against his groin and needfully rubbed over his cock.
His lips parted, and I heard the groan in my mind, even if the soundproofing of his penthouse prevented it from actually reaching my ears. He grabbed her hair and yanked her back.
“Naughty little kitten.” His lips formed the words, and I heard him in my head in his almost faded Parisian accent.
Primal rage boiled in my veins and pumped through me. My hands fisted, ready to break the window, but I forced myself to stop.
He doesn’t belong to you anymore.
Why did I keep watching?
He changed his grip on her hair and forced her face against his groin. Vin had to maintain control. He only wanted to be touched on his terms.
My morbid obsession with him needed to stop. He was clearly enjoying himself and not missing me at all.I hated that I missed him. I hated that I couldn’t move on.
She mouthed over the bulge in his suit pants. His head dropped back, lost in the sensation for a moment. It was such a private thing to witness. So personal, and if he’d suspected anyone watched, it never would have happened. He was so poised in public, hence the blindfolds and the submissives all bound. No one could touch him. Ever.
I was, and always would be, the only exception to all his rules, and I’d picked my people. Turned him away. I couldn’t be what he needed. But that didn’t make me want him any less.
He slipped a hand inside his slacks, but I couldn’t keep watching. This was my cue, and yet my feet stayed rooted to the spot while the questions in my head got the better of me.
Would he actually let her blow him?
Would he come for her?
He rarely allowed this of himself, but there were times. We wanted to think we were better than humans and able to withstand the desires of flesh, but were we? I think at the end of the day, we were all just animals.
He popped the inside button of his slacks, and all the oxygen left my lungs.
Why was I watching?
