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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DOMINIC
In the beginning I tried to go slow with her, though it nearly killed me. I’d been thinking about this girl for weeks, and I wasn’t going to just grunt and get off. This wasn’t a fuck. This was Melanie. We fit together so flawlessly I could swear I’d been made to slide into her body. I’d wondered if she’d be shy or reserved between the sheets, but to my delight she didn’t hold back at all. And when I said dirty things, filthy things, she absolutely fucking loved it.
“What are you doing?” she whimpered when I teased her, pulling out just as she was getting to the brink for the third time since I carried her in here.
“Making you work for it,” I answered, easily offering up resistance when she tried to tighten her legs and draw me back in. Her eyes had been closed as she bit her lip and let me consume her as I pleased. Now those blue eyes opened and fixed me with a look of frustration.
“I don’t work for you right now, Mr.Esposito,” she said, but she was lying. I could feel it in the way her heart pounded and her body trembled.
I chuckled and raised myself up on my elbows so I could see her more clearly.
“Oh yes, you do, Miss Cruz.” Fucking hell, I loved the feel of her tits against my chest. Full and ripe, with a perfect mix of softness and firm perfection, they felt as good as I knew they would.
Melanie frowned up at me, those eyes that were such a rare dark-blue flashing with obvious annoyance at having her moment thwarted.
“The hell I do,” she said through clenched teeth, and I almost thrust into her hard once again. That fiery attitude of hers drove me nuts in a major way. But I was so damn close, one more push into that sweet body would be my undoing, and I didn’t want to be undone just yet.
I nibbled her neck. “Relax. We’re just gonna have a little talk first.”
“A talk?” she sputtered. “Now? Right freaking now?”
“Right freaking now.”
“Dominic,” she moaned, writhing underneath me. “I can’t take it.”
I wasn’t sure I could take it either, but the longer the buildup the better the reward. “Melanie, what were you doing right before I rang the doorbell tonight?”
She scowled. It was so damn cute. “I was taking a bath, you idiot.”
“Hmm.” I rolled my hips against her, and she let out another whimper. “A bath, huh?”
“Yes,” she said in a strangled voice. She was biting her lip and holding on to my arms so tightly her nails dug into my skin.
“Is that all?”
She glared at me, then softened and shook her head, seeming almost embarrassed. “That’s not all. I was thinking about you. I was wishing you were with me.”
I smoothed her hair away from her sweaty forehead. “I’m with you now, Mel. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” she whispered, and I covered her mouth with mine.
I eased into her gently this time, and when we came at the same moment, it was both earth-shattering and tender. We shuddered with the aftershocks, and I held her for a long time before I started to worry that my weight might be crushing her. Melanie sat up and watched as I rolled off and got rid of the condom. She had pulled a sheet up over her chest, and the small gesture of modesty made me want to rip off her flimsy cover and ravage her all over again.
Instead I turned off the bedside lamp and opened my arms. She let me gather her to my chest, and I enjoyed the contented sigh that escaped her lips as she settled against me.
“Are you tired?” she asked in a dreamy voice while my fingers lightly tugged on strands of her long hair.
I yawned. “No.”
“You sorry?”
I snorted. “Hell no.”
She burrowed into me and kissed my neck. “That’s a relief. If you’d said yes, I might have either cried or thrown my five-pound volume of Shakespeare’s collected works at your head.”
“Melanie,” I said seriously. “I’ll never make you cry.”
