The Dominator (28 page)

“Uh huh.”

“And you. I want to ask you what happened in Mexico but I don’t. I don’t know if you want to talk about it or if I even want to know. It feels like you went to hell and back.”

He nodded, “I did.”

“My head is just full.” And I didn’t know how I felt about him, about us but I didn’t know how to articulate that.

He nodded again, “I’m gonna go get us some coffee, okay? But first I need to do something?”

“What?”

“Need to fuck you, baby.” His words sounded harsh but then his mouth turned up in the beginnings of a smile.

I laughed, “Romance is officially dead.”

He smiled at me and then raised his brows, “Yeah, isn’t it? For instance, I’ll try not to let it ding my ego too much that my going down on you just drove you to tears. Just let me, like super-fast, if you don’t mind? I promise not to be super-fast too often but this time, I think I just need to...” he pushed his fist forward in the air.

I laughed harder. He was being so playful. His eyes were filled with light. He looked totally adorable. He was beautiful. Before I knew what I was doing I’d reached to put my palm on his cheek. He needed a shave.

He pounced on top of me, his eyes full of amusement.

“Feel free,” I said, “Since you’re here anyway.” I scrubbed my fingers along the stubble at his jaw.

“Are you giving me permission?” he asked, his eyes darkening and face turning serious. Very serious. I took a deep breath. “I don’t need permission to take what’s mine, do I?” He kissed the palm of my hand and then ran a finger from my elbow up to my throat and then he put his hand over my throat. I swallowed against the space between his thumb and index finger.

“I’m all about control but baby, I don’t just want it. I need it,” he said, and then waited, hand looser on my throat.

I nodded slightly, not sure how to process how I felt.

“I feel out of control right now,” he said, studying me. He had pain in his eyes.

I swallowed hard and then the silence between us was almost deafening, “Then take it,” I whispered and he studied my face for a minute.

Then he let go of my throat and kissed me hard and then whispered, “You’re perfect,” then he was inside of me. A few thrusts in and he started to pound harder and faster and I just closed my eyes and absorbed the feel of him. It was exquisite. I let go, let go of emotions, inhibitions, I just let him take what he wanted and it felt so…so freeing.

He pulled out, flipped me over onto my side and pounded into me from behind and then he grabbed my throat again and held it. He didn’t hurt my throat, he didn’t squeeze, but it was possessive. I started to feel that quickening and then he slowed, culling it. I grabbed the headboard with both hands and held on.

“Do you want to come?” he whispered in my ear softly, tickling me.

“Mmm,” I felt goose bumps rise all over my back.             

“Do you?” his voice got huskier and his rhythm slowed.

“Yeah.”

“Who do you belong to, Athena?” he drove in deep and grazed my nipple with his thumbnail and then his hand slid up to hold my throat again in a softer hold. His other hand snaked over my hip and then his fingers were on my clit.

“Who do you belong to? Do you belong to that punk, Nick?”

“No,” I breathed.

He rotated his hips while he was inside me, eliciting a groan from me, then twisted my nipple ever so slightly, “Then who?”

Shivers ran up my body. He had the ridge of my ear in between his teeth, “Who?”

I rocked against him, “Ah!”

He pulled out most of the way and then pushed back in hard and I gasped again.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he said and then he had all my hair in his hand again and he was tugging, gently.

“I don’t,” I whispered.

He let out a little growl and then his mouth was at my ear again, “You don’t?” there was warning in his voice.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I said softly, feeling a little rush at the idea of this game. Then I bit my lip, swallowed, then added, “Do I?” as innocently as I could muster, though I was feeling far from innocent right now. If I played the game right along with him, maybe it wouldn’t be so scary.

He took a deep breath and tightened his hold on me, “You’re mine. You belong to me, and you were made for me,” he said, low in his throat, then was pushing deep and slow and deliberately, kissing me all over the back of my neck, my shoulders, “Let me show you.”

I felt that quickening again and I started circling my hips back against him, loving how deep he was. One of his hands had my hip and his other hand caressed up and down my chest up to my throat and each time he got to my throat he gave a little squeeze, not painful, possessive, I guess. I tipped my head back against him and soaked in the symphony of his fingers, his cock, and his lips, even the way one of his legs had locked around me. I was melting into a puddle of sensation, goose bumps on every square inch of my body, and he started circling around and around my clit. When I started coming he growled, “Who, Athena, who do you belong to?”

“Ah!” I held my breath and then let out a long “Ohhhhh,” and then slowly floated back to earth.  He slapped my ass, making me jolt.

“You’re a naughty girl,” he murmured into my ear, still driving in deep, “You’re lucky I let you come when you’re so fucking naughty.”

It felt as if goose bumps rose on top of goose bumps, if that was even possible. He flipped me from my side onto my stomach and I felt him rise up. He grabbed my hip with one hand and my two wrists into his other palm, which was used to pin me while also bracing himself.

“Ooh, let me wipe that smirk off your face,” he grunted, gritting his teeth and I gasped as he slammed hard into me. Then he started to run his free hand up and down my back while he rotated his hips, pushing hard. He pushed in, then slapped my ass, making me jolt, which I could tell he liked a lot because of the way he grunted. Then it was a succession of slams and slaps and grunts for him and for me, jolts, and moans. 

Super quick? This wasn’t quick at all. It had been going on for a long time and I was getting super exhausted; my legs were still shaky from the orgasm and I was breathless and sweaty, my hair plastered to my cheek. My ass felt like it was on fire.

“You like this?” he whispered, still pounding into me and tightened his grip around my wrists.

“Mmm,” I moaned into the pillow.

“You feel so good,” he told me, “I’m going to fuck your sweet pussy over and over, as much as I want to, and you know why?”

I groaned.

“Because you’re mine.” He whispered and he turned me and we were doing it missionary style.

He let go of a wrist and wiped my hair from my face and held it back then found my lips with his and kissed me tender for a second and then it turned rough.

He started grunting with every thrust, pulling tighter on my hair. It went on and on and on. I wanted, no needed, to be done, I was sore and exhausted, and thirsty. My ass was on fire. Finally, I whispered, “Tommy,”

“Baby,” he hummed against my mouth.

“Come inside me.” I whispered into his mouth.

He let go of my lips and then his mouth opened and he slowed his pace and then I heard him gasp, I started to tongue his throat and dug my nails into his back. He had a full body shudder as he came inside me.  Then he collapsed on top of me and stayed like that for the longest time. I could feel his heartbeat pounding against me and his breath tickled my shoulder. I twisted, feeling a bit crushed, and he rolled off me onto his side. I rolled into him, wrapped my arms around him, and gently trailed my nails up and down his back, just enjoying this closeness, this intimacy. I’d never had anything like this with anyone else. No basking in the afterglow, no dirty talk, nothing even close to this and here I was lying against an insanely beautiful dangerous man who had killed to avenge my abduction, it was crazy of me but it was an insane turn-on.

I felt guilt underneath desire but there was something so hot about that little game. He liked games, as I could tell from the start, and I was figuring out that maybe if I played along, they weren’t so scary; they were just games.

“You little vixen,” he murmured against my ear and then bit my earlobe, “You don’t tell me when to come.”

“Really? Then how come I just did?” I whispered against his pectoral and he slapped my ass hard and for a split second I thought I was in big trouble but then caught the smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. I had a face-splitting grin on my face that I couldn’t hide. I looked up at him and he rubbed my bottom where he’d just spanked me. He was looking at me so tenderly I thought my heart might burst.

After what felt like forever, locked in one another’s gaze, he rolled onto his back a few inches away from me but was still looking at me, though now his expression was unreadable. I flushed under his scrutiny.

He looked up at the ceiling, finally, and I studied the black tribal tattoo patterns on his arm up to his shoulder.  Points, curls, swirls. I looked back at his face. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“They tried to take you from me and I had to make them pay. They paid. Anyone who tries to take you from me will pay,” he was silent for a moment. I snuggled into him, chewing my cheek, and started to trace the patterns on his shoulder with my finger. Then he continued, “You need to know that life with me won’t be all ice cream with a cherry on top and walks on the beach at sunset. It can’t be. You need to know that sometimes you’re gonna hate my guts because of my need to control everything and because I might take my frustrations out on you in here.”

I let out a long slow breath.

He went on, “I’m depraved, Tia and I have a bad temper. I want to own you and control you and I wanted that the minute I was told it was mine but now that you are, you surprised me; I surprised me. I want to make you feel good, too, make you feel safe with me, safe enough to give yourself to me, to wanna be mine. I’ve never wanted that. I want it so much.”

“I feel safe right now and you just made me feel very good” I whispered, my admission sending chills across my whole body. He gave me a squeeze.

“I know you didn’t choose this but I can’t give you up. I won’t. Don’t ever, ever ask me to. After things settle down I’ll give you everything, give you a life you’ll want, but with me. But baby, you have to take all of me and there are parts of me you won’t want. Know that other than that, I’ll give you everything you want, everything.  Everything except freedom from me.”

Wow. It was beautiful and awful and fucked up all at the same time.  Kind of like him. I was speechless.

He leaned over me, looking at my face, seeing that I was absorbing what he was saying to me. He looked like he wanted me to say something, or like he wanted to say more, I wasn’t sure. Finally he said, “I have to go. I have to deal with the fall out of Mexico and everything else. Please be a good girl; don’t give me any extra stress today. I need to deal with this and then tomorrow I’ll take the day for us and we’ll go do something together, okay? I have a special place I wanna take you.” He tucked hair behind my ear.

I poked the tip of his nose, “You don’t have to worry about me getting into aaaany trouble. I don’t think I can even walk after that, super-fast…” I thrust my fist into the air the way that he’d done before we had sex, “thing that took at least an hour there.”

He laughed a hearty big-smiled laugh that made him so beautiful to behold I felt it in my stomach like a little pang of something between butterflies and pain. I gently tapped his cheek with my palm and closed my eyes and yawned.

“Hmm, now I know what I’ve gotta do daily to keep my girl in line. Good to know. I’ll bring you some coffee and food since I’ve rendered you crippled and then I‘ve gotta go. Take a long bath and soak those muscles, sweet baby girl. I’ll be back for more later and I can guarantee I won’t be as quick as this time.” He winked again, squeezed my rear end lightly, and got out of bed.

I smiled as he left and then my heart sank. It sank painfully, like a weighed down cloud that wanted to float but couldn’t. I felt pretty darn conflicted right now. He took a shower and left the room dressed in a charcoal gray suit with black shirt and black tie and was clean shaven. Damn, he was beautiful. Beautiful and complicated and scary-intense.

He returned a few minutes later with a mug of coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese plus an orange cut into wedges, “Have a good day,” he said into my hair after he kissed me.

“You, too,” I said and smiled shyly at him as he left. I think I stared off into space for what might’ve been hours. Thinking about my family, about Mexico, about the terrifying car ride with him before I was kidnapped, about the many layers of Tommy Ferrano, about my participation in the little sex games this morning. My coffee and bagel were both tepid by the time I snapped back to the here and now.

Tommy

Not only was everyone in the Castillo cartel compound dead thanks to me and my guys plus the compound burned to the ground, the fire started by me striking the match after pouring gasoline on that bed in that room in the sick fuck’s basement after I’d taken my time with vengeance against Castillo as well as Earl Johnston.

If I’d found the corpse of the motherfucker who’d laid his hands on my girl I’d have fed Earl that corpse’s cock before I shot him. Beyond that, I’d secured a deal with another cartel who helped me orchestrate the downfall, handing them the Castillo business and fortifying a deal that would nearly triple our profits from Mexico. Part of that deal included an exit strategy in a year’s time, which the cartel was more than happy to agree to because it meant 100% of the profits for them from that point on and it meant a lot to me because I didn’t want to be in the drug business. A smooth transition was important, though. I couldn’t just make an instant break.

Earl had said some things, made some accusations that I was troubled about. And a few comments from Castillo in the minutes before he died were either enlightening or designed to plant the seeds of doubt about some of what I knew about my Pop. I had some legwork to do to see if it held any truth. At the moment, I was taking all that’d been said with a grain of salt. He was gone now; they both were, so I couldn’t go back to either of them for more information.

My Pop didn’t even ask what made Earl defect, which made me think that maybe Earl spoke the truth. Why wouldn’t he at least wonder why a trusted employee would suddenly steal his future daughter-in-law and shoot a colleague in the head in cold blood?

Pretty telling to me that Pop was impressed, however, with the way things turned out. He didn’t know about the exit strategy but then again he didn’t need to know. I’d be in charge long before that would take place.

Thankfully he didn’t commend me on my lemonade-making skills. He’d taught me a long time ago to take opportunities wherever you could get them, even in the face of tragedy.  But I think he knew better. The lemons I’d just been served had a pretty profound effect on me. I was pushing away thoughts that this shit was all my Pop’s fault. I needed more info first.