Flock (The Ravenhood Duet #1)(76)
When I’m seated, a gasp escapes me just as a groan bursts from his lips at the nape of my neck. He pushes us away from the desk, his legs anchoring us to the floor before he reclines us back in the chair so I’m practically laying on top of him. He thrusts up just as I begin to move, and I lose my breath, calling out his name.
“You,” he pants, his voice hoarse. The appreciation in that one word is enough. It’s all I need.
He runs his good hand along my chest, cupping my breast before sliding it down to where we connect. His strokes are methodical, slow, thorough. The feel of him is incredible and only adds to my elevation from his admission. This can’t be Dominic.
But it is.
This is him.
Body tense, my suspended toes curl with every thrust. The sensation of him beneath me overwhelming as he fucks me gently, my body gliding along his chest. Rotating my hips, I meet him thrust for thrust until we both snap, needing more. He roots deeper as his finger coaxes me, running up and down my soaked clit. Collectively working together, our breaths the only sound in the room, he dips his finger lower, adding it to the stretch of his cock, and I shudder.
“Dom…G-G-God.”
I’m quivering from head to foot when he bites down on my shoulder. My orgasm crests just as he thrusts up, encouraging me to ride the wave as it rolls through me. It takes every bit of my strength not to go limp once I come down, but the feel of him, his pants at my ear, fuel me and I swivel my hips and dip my hand to squeeze the base of him.
“Damn,” he mumbles as he thrusts up, holding us both off the chair, once, twice, his exhale a total surrender at my neck when he comes.
Dazed, I turn my head to receive his crushing kiss, my temple damp, a thin veil of exertion covering both of us. When we break, we just stare at the other wordless, sated. And then slowly, so slowly, his lips tilt fully, knocking me senseless. It’s my first genuine smile, and I snap away, knowing it’s a mental picture I will never forget.
I stand and head to the bathroom for a towel, soaking it with warm water before coming back just as he discards the condom. He takes my offered towel, cleaning his lap before pulling up his sweats. Completely clueless on how to do after sex with Dominic, I brace myself for rude words, a cruel brushoff, but he surprises me by cupping my neck, pulling me flush to him and kissing me. I expect it to be brief, but he keeps our mouths fused and I eagerly kiss him back. We stand in the center of his bedroom as if it’s our first kiss all over again, exploring each other. With the advantage of both hands, I run them down his chest to the growing bulge in his sweats. All traces of that smile disappear when silver-grey eyes hood.
“Get on the bed.”
DOMINIC FLIPS ANOTHER PAGE AS I run my finger along his happy trail and over his toned stomach. I note the title, 1984 by George Orwell, as I lay sprawled diagonally facing him where he sits propped against his headboard. The same position I’ve been in for the last ten or so minutes as he’s shamelessly ignored me since I got out of the shower. It’s storming heavily outside, the day seeming night in his bedroom. The rain beats on the roof as he flips another page, the only light in the room coming from the screensaver on his computer and a small bedside lamp.
“You just going to ignore me while you read all day?”
“Yep,” he says, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Well then, I have better things to do.” I move to get up and he slides his hand down my back before molding it over the curve of my ass. My eyes close in remembrance of the past few hours of being at his mercy. I’m sore, more than sore, I’ve been fucked to within an inch of living. My afterglow dims considerably when Sean crosses my mind, and in those seconds, I become paralyzed by guilt. I can’t for the life of me figure out how this is going to be okay for him, for either of them, when I could never handle being in their shoes while they shared their body with someone else. But Sean’s not here, and I don’t know if that’s why I’m taking such liberties with Dominic. I try and remember the words he spoke to me that day after our tryst on the float, but they bring me no relief. Dominic speaks up behind his book.
“He’s not mad at you. And he won’t be. And you have nothing better to do.”
The wind whips around the house. “He’s not back from his hike. It’s been hours and it’s storming. You think he’s okay?”
Dominic flips another page, reading at lightning speed.
“It’s rude, you know, to ignore a direct question.”
“It’s a stupid question. I don’t answer stupid questions.”
“You are a rare bastard.”
A smirk. “A rare bastard you can’t seem to stop fucking.”
“It takes two,” I run my finger along the band of his pants. Apparently, he deems it inappropriate to read in the nude. “Why did you hate me?”
His gaze drifts from the page to me. “Who says I don’t hate you?”
“I do,” I straddle him, snatch his book, and toss it behind me. His eyes flare in annoyance as I dip low and hover above him, putting my hands on his shoulders to pin him down. “And if this is the closest thing I’m going to get to a date, the least you could do is give me a little conversation.”
“A date,” he chuckles dryly, and it stings. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I know, I know, you’re not Sean.”