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21

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Regina

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From the window seat I’ve taken over as my spot in the library, I watch as Sergeant Riley and a woman I can only assume is his wife leave the building laughing and hugging each other. Closing my eyes against their joy, I lean my head against the glass.

It’s been seven weeks since the night I met the man the night before the wedding. I open my eyes just in time to see him put his hand on her stomach. My own stomach twists in bitter jealousy. They were no doubt here to tell Dominic and thank him for helping them get what they wanted. This time I squeeze my eyes so tight I see stars.

I’m living with a shadow. I hear him, can tell when he’s been home, but I rarely see him. It’s even rarer we’re in the same place for longer than a few minutes. Out of sheer desperation, I worked to get my body back to my old schedule.

I’m in bed by midnight, asleep by two, then I’m awake around eight or nine. I have breakfast, make a snack to take back to my room where I work on my translations until Dominic leaves the apartment. He’s having breakfast with his father again. It’s as if I’m not even here. The few times he walked into the library and found me here he looked through me. He got what he came in for and was gone again.

A few days after Johnny’s funeral, Dominic went to New York to settle Johnny’s business. I had no idea until Marco told me. He was gone for six days. Every day I wondered why it was taking so long, I came close to breaking down and asking Pop, yet every time I opened my mouth the shame of not being able to ask Dominic himself wouldn’t let me.

If it weren’t for Mary and Pop, I’m pretty sure I would have drowned in my misery. It was a few days after Dominic left for New York when Pop came to see me. As usual I was here in the library, but I was on the couch trying to take a nap because I hadn’t gotten much sleep.

I’m not sure if my dozing is the reason I didn’t hear the elevator; all I know is one moment I was drifting in and out of sleep, and the next I opened my eyes to find him standing over me, studying me. The shock of seeing him gave me a start.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll leave you to rest.”

“No, please stay. I’m not—I won’t be able to get back to sleep. I’m not...please stay.” Sitting up, I curled into the corner of the couch. It was a little spooky how much he and Dominic looked alike, from their blue eyes to their frown.

With a sigh he sat down, unbuttoning his jacket. He wore the same three-pieces Dominic did, his silk suit a pale gray with the vest a black and dark gray checked pattern.

“Mary has mentioned your unhappiness. I promised myself I wouldn’t meddle again. Yet, I care for both you and my son too much not to...explain myself to you. Your father and I, we believed we were doing the right thing. Both of us for selfish reasons. I love my son deeply. He and Anthony were the best things to ever happen to me. Loving him doesn’t make me blind to his faults. I see him clearly. I also know him. I know he will be a good husband to you. He will take care of you and protect you with all he has inside him.”

I hadn’t been able to meet his eyes, intent on studying the stitching along the hem of my skirt. I knew he wanted me to agree with him. I did agree with him, only I didn’t trust myself to stop there.

“Johnny told me you would be Dominic’s wife when you were a week old. You were sick when you were born, some infection. The doctors told Johnny you were probably going to die. You proved them wrong. He came to me the very night you pulled through. Made me drink to your health. I was happy to. Then he told me to make sure Dominic stayed single and available because when the time came, you two would be married.”

Shaking his head, he studied his clasped hands. “I put it down to him being drunk. He was adamant, though. You weren’t even supposed to be here. Your mother had an IUD in. That she got pregnant at all was one thing, then for you to almost die and survive... Johnny felt it meant something. Dominic, one of his crew betrayed him, beat him, shot him, and left him for dead.  He should have died. For three days the doctors weren’t sure how he didn’t die. Every night they thought it would be his last.”

“I didn’t know any of that. About me or Dominic. That’s where the scars came from.”

He nodded as he ran a hand through his hair, still thick and with more black than silver. “That’s where the scars came from. I honestly forgot about the whole conversation with Johnny. Then my nephews started getting married, having children. You’ve seen them, how happy they are. So happy they glow with it.”

His eyes met mine, I couldn’t look away at the earnest longing in them. “I wanted that for Dominic. I wanted him to have light in his life. Our world is a hard one, I wanted softness for him. Yet I knew it wouldn’t be just any woman. Johnny came to me with your picture—you were graduating that day. When I saw you, saw your smile, saw equal fear and determination in your eyes, I knew you were the one.”

“Johnny refused to come that day. He said if I wasn’t coming back to Chicago then I could rot in Italy. I have no idea how he got the picture.” I looked up to find him studying me as if I should know already.

“The same way he got the dozens of them he had of you: Mother Superior sent them to him. I told him it was better you went on to university. You were too young and innocent, you needed to live life more. When Johnny got sick, he told me it was time. You were going to come back here if he had to drag you back by your hair. He had been watching you, making sure you were the perfect, docile little princess fit for Dominic, who would become Don whether he wanted to be or not.”

“Dominic was always going to be Don?”

He nodded. “As far as Johnny was concerned, yes. If things had gone sideways on Johnny, there’s no telling for sure, but Johnny told me the day I got out of prison what he had planned for Dominic. It’s why I sent him to a good school in New York. He needed the knowledge and the connections it would bring.”

Shaking my head, I sighed. “He would be so pissed off if he knew that.”

“For about five minutes, because what’s done is done.” Sighing, he reached for my hand. His hand was so big it swallowed mine. “Please don’t give up on him, on your marriage. Be the light he needs, the softness in his world he needs so badly. He won’t just take from you, he’ll give back once he trusts you, trusts in you.”

I wanted to believe him. He wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear. Pop wasn’t lying to me and telling me Dominic loved me. How pathetic was I for wishing he did? But no, Pop wasn’t going to lie to me the same way Dominic wasn’t going to lie. So I told Pop I wouldn’t give up. I didn’t need to tell him it felt like Dominic had, though.  

After he left, I found Mary in the kitchen and begged her to never tell Pop anything about me and Dominic again. I wanted to yell at her but I couldn’t. She was the only person who talked to me—without her I would be completely alone. She promised she wouldn’t, then she told me to put on an apron, we were making lasagna today. With a sigh I did as I was told, and by the time the lasagna was in the oven I wasn’t mad at her anymore.

Over the last seven weeks she’s been teaching me to cook. We’ve spent a lot of hours in the kitchen. Sometimes I hated it, sometimes it was the only thing that kept me sane. Especially the days when Dominic was gone and I wondered what he was doing while he was away.

One day Marco and Dario were gone, and he was there again.

For the hundredth time since Marco and Dario left, I wonder what I’m doing here. During the week Dominic was gone I was given access to my bank cards, ID, and passport. Why didn’t I just walk away? A dozen times I’ve plotted it, planned it out. One day it’s getting on the first international flight out of O’Hare, the next it’s renting a car and crossing into Canada. Once I went to Union Station and just sat there for two hours, watching the trains come in and leave again.

While I was there I let the fantasy unravel, as I have often: a small red brick home with a dog in the yard. Three children playing together in the grass as the breeze blows. They are all blonde, with brown eyes—at least they are supposed to be everything Dominic isn’t, what his children would never be. Only it never stays that way. They morph into blue-eyed and dimpled brown-haired boys, and I ache with longing. Fuck. Even in my dreams I can’t get what I want.

It’s no good, I’ve seen it all in front of me too many times. Over the last seven weeks, we’ve appeared at Enzo and Chloe’s home twice and once at Alicia and Cesare’s home. Dominic held my hand, he smiled, he teased me in front of them, played with the children. It felt so real, until we were in the car and he was back to looking through me, to one-syllable answers to my questions or observations.

I could say it was the promise I made to Pop, but I don’t. I got up from the chair at the train station and took a cab back to our hollow home. I don’t cry anymore, I haven’t since Johnny’s funeral. I’m proud of it, it’s the only thing I’m proud of anymore.

This is all me. I got what I thought I wanted, only it’s a thousand times worse than I imagined it would be. Tonight is another dinner. Luca is back in town for the week. Pop has invited us to his place, just me and Dominic joining him and Luca. One more night of heaven and hell.

The sound of the elevator alert going off pulls me out of my misery. Is it Dominic? It’s a little after three in the afternoon. He almost never comes home before early morning.

“Regina?” I sigh, it’s Chloe. Damn it, I’ve made excuses twice already to avoid lunches with her. I should have known she wouldn’t accept another one.

“In the library,” I call out. Only seconds later she is in the doorway.

She’s carrying a small paper bag. When she sees me, she stops and studies me for so long I grow uncomfortable.

“What?” I pull the book I’m holding up to my chest.

Holding up the bag, she says, “Enzo and I came by last night to have dinner with you and Dominic.” I can’t hide my surprise. “Right.” She nods. “Dominic said that you weren’t feeling well so I brought you—”

“I wasn’t, I had a migraine.”

“He said you had a cough, thought you might be sick. You were trying to keep people from getting sick. I figured it was the crud that went around a few weeks ago and was bringing you some throat stuff that helped us.”

Embarrassed, I study the floor.

With a sigh she settles onto the couch and pats it. “Sit.”

I shake my head.

“Get your ass over here and sit down, Regina.”

Rolling my eyes, I go and flop down on the couch. I don’t take my eyes off the book in my hands.

“I’ve never seen Dominic so miserable and I’ve seen him covered in baby vomit, so you know I’ve seen a lot. You, you are as easy to read as can be. I thought it was Johnny dying. It’s not though. Is it?”

“I can’t talk to you. Dominic—I’ve already messed up too much to add talking to you to the list.”

“Regina, look at me. I won’t tell anyone anything you tell me. Not Dominic, or Enzo. No one. I know what it’s like to have fucked up so badly you are terrified you can’t fix it. To feel alone when you’re surrounded by people who love you and would do anything for you. And we would, all of us. It’s not just Pop, or me, it’s Alicia and Bethany and even Nonna.”

Her hand covers mine, squeezing it gently.

“You are a part of this family. Not the Outfit, the Sabatinis. We’re an annoying, loud, loving bunch, and we’re going to argue and fight, but we will also do everything in our power to help each other and make sure you never have to go through anything alone. Che was very gently trying to talk to Dominic about how concerned he is about you. Bethany told me she texted you her therapist’s number. Great woman, you should talk to her. Whether it’s about this or Johnny or all the rest.”

She moves close to me, putting her arm around me. It’s the first touch I’ve had in weeks. That has to be the only reason why I start crying.

“Ah, honey.” It’s all she says for a long time as she hugs me close.

Everything comes out in a torrent of words I’m not even sure makes sense. I guess not because she asks me to repeat a couple of things, like Dominic putting me in the trunk and when I told Dominic to just get it over with.

Finally under control I tense, waiting for her disapproval. She runs her hand down my face as she looks down at me with tender understanding I’m sure I don’t deserve. “Stop blaming yourself. This is a mess you both made. Dominic Sabatini is in love with you and scared shitless of it.”

I’m shaking my head. She doesn’t get it.

Pulling away, she’s stern. “Hey, I know Dominic Sabatini. I know him like I know myself. It’s the reason I hated him so much. We’re more alike than either of us wants to admit. He’s scared because the idea of letting you know he loves you means you know he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.”

She mops me up with several tissues. It reminds me of when Dominic did the same thing the night of Johnny’s funeral.

“It would be easy to blame the whole ruthless world he lives in, but both Enzo and I were the same way. The need to have the upper hand, to feel like we were in control. I had been hurt way too much and was waiting for Enzo to be the next person to hurt me. The problem was I ended up hurting myself. It wasn’t until I gave up fighting him, fighting for control, that we both let go and everything felt right.”

I want to believe her. I just can’t. “He’s making the best out of a bad situation. I’m just the current bedwarmer who is so starved for affection I’ll take anything he’s willing to give. And oh yeah, a total slut who is gasping for sex.”

“Okay, let’s break it down rationally. Let’s leave emotion out of it for five minutes. Dominic Sabatini, ruthless, manipulative, manwhore, has extolled your virtues to all of us for far longer than he’s ever talked about anything or anyone. Sure, maybe that is a cover. Does it explain him spending hours with you shopping with Lydia? He hates to shop, he flat-out doesn’t do it.”

Weird, when he seemed so comfortable doing it with me that day.

“Dominic spent a half hour on the phone with Callie and sent her a half dozen photos of dresses he liked. The man doesn’t know a ballgown from an A-line, but he knew everything he wanted your dress to be. He had your wedding ring remade twice because it wasn’t perfect. Your tiara had to be redone once, he was so particular the jeweler was terrified Dominic was going to kill him because he kept messing up. Does any of that sound like a man who is making the best of a bad situation?”

Studying my ring, I remember Callie talking about Dominic saying he wanted me to look like his queen. At the time, I put it down to his arrogance of the day. Then when he took off the tiara, the satisfaction on his face wasn’t from arrogance, it was pure happiness. It flashes again, what had been in his eyes as he looked down at me. I had thought I was projecting, yet it shined so brightly. What if...

“Look, I get you’re young. I’m trying not have that be a factor in this conversation because I wasn’t when I met Enzo, and I still didn’t get it. Which was really embarrassing, as I had stopped having sex for exactly the reason I should have seen it for what it was. The whole sex thing, how it’s amazing, incredible, you can’t get enough, you think your whole body is going to explode from pleasure?”

I blush, and Chloe smiles knowingly.

“Yeah, that doesn’t happen with everyone. There are couples who are genuinely in love, I don’t understand how, but they don’t feel it. It’s special, because it’s with someone you love and it’s the only place you are both allowing yourself to be open and free with each other. That’s why you’re both so greedy for it—if that’s the only place you’re allowing each other in, you’re craving that connection.”

Closing my eyes, I inhale everything she has said. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“No, honey, you’re not stupid. You’re human. I’m guessing you didn’t have a window into what love looked like before you met Dominic. Then when it comes with all these crazy things in it...” She shrugs. “I can’t imagine figuring this out on your own.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I cried all over you.”

“Oh please, it’s nothing. I’m always here for you, know that. You can call me anytime, day or night. Now we have to figure out how to fix this.”

“Is it fixable?”

“Totally, and it’s going to be way easier than you thought.”

***

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Regina

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Putting on the dress Chloe picked out, I shiver with anticipation. To get the desired effect, I make sure to be out of the apartment dressed before Dominic sees me. I text him I’m getting my hair cut for tonight then having the whole mani-pedi thing so I look my best. I’ll meet him at Pop’s. His response is now typical Dominic with a simple OK.

When my hair stylist, Eliot, sees me walk through the door he whistles. “Damn, girl. Was your hubby bad or very good?”

Blushing, I shrug. “Very bad.”

“Mm, mm, they just don’t get it, do they? It’s always the quiet ones. We might not be loud but when we want to make them pay, do we roar.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “You’re quiet?”

He gives an exaggerated shrug of one shoulder. “With my hubby I have to be. He is such a straight boy. I think he still hopes one day he’ll wake up and won’t like men anymore.”

“I’m sorry, that’s awful. You deserve someone who’s all in.” I love Eliot. He’s so sweet.

“Don’t we all. I don’t mind, really. He loves me loads, he just has all those midwestern North Dakota ideas of what a ‘real’ man does and doesn’t do.” He rolls his eyes.

“I’m working on him. In five years he’ll be rocking pink dress shirts without any irony and using product in his hair on the daily. Okay, sweetie, you ready to take the plunge this time?”

I freeze at the question, cutting my hair to a chin-length bob. What the hell? I nod.

“Keep your eyes closed and trust me. I would never do you wrong.”

Forty-five minutes later I open my eyes and gasp. I’m almost a different person. My face isn’t quite as round, my nose fits my face more, and I don’t know, I just look different. I love it. “I am so sorry I doubted you for a moment.”

“It’s all good, precious, I understand completely. Now go work it and make your hubby pay for being bad.”

In the nail salon, only a few doors down from Eliot’s salon, I get a wave of oohs and ahs over my hair and dress. I don’t like fake nails. I do, however, like having them shaped and painted here. No matter what polish I get, at home it’s always chipped and fading after the third day, as opposed to the two weeks it lasts when I get it done here. Ever since I stopped in on a whim to kill time after I saw Eliot the first time, I’ve been back every other week.

When I’m done, I call Everett to pick me up to drop me off at Pop’s. I don’t have to wait long. As I get into the SUV Everett’s eyebrows go up.

“Looking beautiful today, Mrs. Sabatini. It’s been a while since Mr. Sabatini has had his blood pressure checked. Tonight is as good a night as any. He’s already at his father’s home.”

Blushing, I simply murmur “thank you.” I get out of the raised SUV, very carefully. I’m wearing the halter dress. The red one with the plunging neckline and open back that screams I’m not wearing a bra.

As Lydia had said, I have great tits. They are high and firm without a bra. The night I had put the dress on for Dominic’s family, I had worn what amounted to pasties to obscure if I caught a chill. Tonight I’m not wearing them. I also went back to the seamstress and had the hemline raised to my knee, so the thigh-high slit on one side was more obvious with every step. When I did it I wanted to wear it while we were in Paris. Chloe had taken one look at it and thrust it at me with glee.

Before I reach for the door, it’s opened by Pop with a smile that could best be described as devilish. “Ah cara, how beautiful you look tonight. My son is a lucky man.”

My stomach flips as he chuckles. I’m barely through the door when intense heat washes over me. Pasting a smile on my face, I press a kiss to Pop’s cheek. I’m pretending I don’t see Dominic’s thunderous frown—holy shit, did he just growl at his own father? The glint in Pop’s eyes tells me he did.

“It smells delicious. What’s for dinner?” The words come out of me in a rush.

Pop’s arm slips around my waist as he guides me into the kitchen. “So many good things. One of them, your favorite canederli.”

I’m pretending to ignore Dominic as we pass him in the doorway of the kitchen. I don’t see his hand snake out at me. I do feel him grab me around my arm and yank me against him.

Luca laughs. “Sorellina, nice dress. I get why Dominic is always looking tired every time I see him.”

I blush as Dominic thrusts me into a chair at the table. He lets me go to whip off his suit jacket, dropping it over my shoulders. Annoyed, I try to take it off. His hands come down in a punishing grip on both shoulders.

Leaning down, his mouth is grazing my ear. “If you take the jacket off, I will take you to the bathroom and give you the spanking you are begging for. Right where Pop and Luca can hear it. Leave it on and it can wait until we get home. The choice is yours.”

Eyes down, blushing down to my belly button, I slip my arms into the silk jacket. “Pop, may I please have a glass of Pinot. A big one.”

***

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Regina

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On the drive home a few hours later, I can feel Dominic seething. I accidentally make it worse when I get out, trying to do it before he gets to my side, just in time to flash him my ass. A curse word slips out of him at the same time he grabs me and hauls me after him.

He’s too pissed to wait for the elevator, throwing me over his shoulder and we’re up the stairs so fast I don’t even have long enough to be afraid he might drop me. The door to our apartment is slammed closed. He sets me down  with a punishing grip, both hands go to my shoulders and he tears the gown with one fierce growl.

Holy shit, I’m standing in nothing more than a tiny red thong in front of him. I’m thrust up against the wall and his hand comes down hard. It’s the library all over again. I lose count of how many times he spanks me on each cheek until I’m gasping for air and so wet my thighs are slick with need.

When he finally stops I’m not sure how I’m still standing. I expect him to grab me and take me then and there. He doesn’t—while I’m still trembling Dominic slams out of the apartment, leaving me very confused and extremely wet for him.

What the fuck? I fight back tears. Chloe had been wrong and I’m an idiot.

***

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Regina

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After Dominic left me standing there and I finally got my breathing back under control, I grabbed the remnants of the dress and slunk into my room. I then spent a solid twenty minutes masturbating until my clit was begging me to stop. Yep, I’m masturbating now. I love it and hate it. It takes the edge off. Except I’m left feeling empty, and I end up missing Dominic even more. Lying in bed, I decide a hot bath is needed to work out this tension.

Almost a half hour later I wrap myself in my robe and walk out of the bathroom no less tense than I was when I went into it.

“You were in there for a while.”

I jump in shock. Dominic is lounging on my bed, the sheet and comforter pulled back, and he’s deliciously naked. Instantly I’m wet for him. Yet the smug look on his face stops me from running to throw myself at him. It isn’t easy but I manage to cross my arms, to hide my hard, aching nipples. “What are you doing in here?”

He exhales a small laugh. “What does it look like? I’m tired of going without. From that dress you wore today, dear wife, it’s obvious you are too. Good. I need to fuck. It’s been too damn long.”

I swear if he hadn’t been such an asshole, so crude, I would have gladly laid down with him. His smirk and to hear him use the word fuck, even after everything Chloe said today, I just can’t. “That was then, this is now. No.”

Those eyes go arctic blue with cold; they stare me down until I’m on the verge of backing down. I’m even opening my mouth when he nods. He rolls off the bed. “Fine. Remember, this is what you wanted.”

The finality of those words, cold and hard, force the question out of me. “What do you mean?”

He turns to face me, his hand on the doorknob. “I told you if you kept me satisfied, I wouldn’t make use of another woman. I haven’t been satisfied except for one night in our marriage. For the record, I was of the mind to shield you from this. Since you’re going to be a bitch about it, I see no need. Fair warning, Serena tends to be vocal in her pleasure.”

The door closes with a final click. He’s lying. I close my eyes, no, he’s not. No, no, he can’t do this. I need him to lie to me and tell me he wanted me, that it meant something. Distantly I hear the beep announcing the elevator arriving on the floor. It tears me out of my stupor.

Could he really allow someone else to touch him? Would he really—my stomach revolts. White-hot anger surges within me. The sound of a woman laughing is loud behind his bedroom door. I throw it open, it crashes against the wall.

Dominic is on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. A woman is on her knees in front of him, her hands running over his thighs. She’s unconcerned at the sight of me—stupid. I finally understand murder, understand the need to inflict violence, to destroy someone. There is no rational thought as I grab her by her hair and yank her up. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back if you value your life.”

With a scream she falls back against the wall, then runs. Turning to Dominic, he hasn’t moved an inch. An eyebrow goes up. “Changed your mind, dear wife?”  

I raise my hand, determined to smack the smug look off his face. He catches my wrists easily in an unforgiving grip, then yanks me down to my knees. He stares down at me with his jaw clenched, anger in every muscle of his body.

“How could you?” It kills me that tears are rolling down my face.

He thrusts me away from him. “Me? The very first day I told you this would be what you made of it. If you didn’t want to fuck me, fine. I wouldn’t force you. You begged me for it. You wore a dress you knew I would tear off your body. At the same time, you also pissed me off so badly I didn’t trust myself to touch you without hurting you. I calmed the fuck down and decided to take you up on your offer, and you want to tell me no?”

I’m cringing at hearing it all out loud.

“I told you I want to fuck a woman. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. This is what you did, not me. Are you going to be a real wife to me in every way? Will you sleep in my bed and be the one to fuck me when I need it? Make up your damn mind what the hell you want. If it’s not Serena tonight, it will be someone else tomorrow.”

Just him saying it tears at me all over again. I reach up for him, he shakes his head. “No, I need you to say it so there is no question, Regina. What do you want?”

Swallowing down the fear, the words come out low. “You, I just want you.”

“Do you want me to just get it over with?”  The words are hissed out of him.

I will regret those words until the day I die. Shaking my head, I reach for him. This time he doesn’t move. “Please.” I hate the word, but I know I lost the right to use any other. “fuck me, Dominic.”

His hand goes around my neck in a painful grip, pulling me to him as his mouth comes down on me with a growl. Savage, bruising, painful, and I welcome it, all of it. He tears the robe off me then pushes me down on the bed, following me down before my back hits the bed.

Pushing my legs open wide for him, two thick fingers thrust into me as his mouth swallows a breast. Those fingers push deep inside as he sucks hard, then bites my nipple until I scream from the pain. There is nothing soothing about the way he begins sucking fiercely, yet I don’t dare stop him as the pain twists into pleasure so intense fireworks explode behind my eyelids. Another painful bite, then he moves to my other breast at the same time his fingers press against a spot that holy fucking shit feels so damn good. Roughly, they rub, until I’m coming with body-shaking force.

I’m still shaking when Dominic flips me over, and begins to spank me so hard I fight not to scream. Once, twice, until each cheek has received five painful smacks. Why does this make me so wet every time he does this to me? Before I can draw in air, he grips my hips and slams into me.

It doesn’t matter I’m soaking wet, that this isn’t the first time, his cock is so large the pain is nearly blinding as he fucks me. His thrusts are furious, pounding, punishing, relentless and even as I hate him for it, I’m coming again and again and again until I’m in agony. How long can he keep doing this? He’s come at least once, the hot rush of his come filling me, yet it didn’t even slow him down. I can’t, god I can’t take anymore. I scream into the soaking wet sheets under me.

Dominic grips me tight around my throat, lifting me from the bed. His other arm is holding me so tightly around my stomach his muscles are digging into my back. I feel his every breath of air, every contraction of muscle and sinew burning into me as fiercely as his cock inside me.

“You’ll take everything I give you. Every fucking thing,” he growls, then he’s sucking on my neck before biting as if he is devouring me, and damn him, I come again with a scream that has my throat raw. What feels like minutes later but for all I know could be hours, he comes with a growl, and as it has every time he comes inside me, my body clenches around him desperate, hungry for all of him, every last drop.

We fall to the bed on our side, his grip still around my throat and stomach, his cock still buried inside me. We’re both gasping for air. Other than my lungs, I can’t move a muscle. The arm around me loosens slightly, and without thought I grasp him around the wrist to keep it in place.

My small movement is all it takes to stir him. He begins moving inside me again. This time his strokes are slower, smaller, yet they are no less powerful, turning me to liquid all over again. His hand remains around my throat as his other hand roams over my body, playing with my breasts, at turns gentle then punishing my hardened, aching nipples. This time he moves inside me for what I swear is an hour without getting me close to the edge. He’s driving me out of my mind. I clench tight around him inside me, desperate for more, deeper, harder, anything but this slow torture.

I never see it coming, one moment his fingers are viciously twisting my nipple, the next his hand is slapping the mound of me. Before I can even draw in air to scream, he’s doing it again and again.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls with every slap, yet I can’t. God, I can’t, my body doesn’t belong to me. How do I want more of what he’s doing to me?

The world tilts, we’re both on our knees now. Only I’m boneless, draped on him, it’s Dominic holding me up on him. Holy fuck, he’s buried so deep, so fucking deep and just like the pain of his slaps to my pussy I love it, need more, every inch of him. There is no build, no warning when my orgasm slams into me, yanking me under the deepest part of the ocean. It terrifies me, it’s too much. I’m begging Dominic, but for what, I don’t know.

“Please,” the word sputters out of me. “What do you want from me?” Can he understand me when the words come out of me in a garbled plea?

Everything. I want everything from you. I want every inch of skin on your body to crave my touch. I want every cell in your body to belong to me. I want your every fucking thought to belong to me. I want the air in your lungs to be mine, taken as you think only of me.” The words are blasted against the skin of my neck and burn into me, as permanent as the ink of a tattoo.

How could he want that when he—it slaps me in the face, what I hadn’t really taken in when I opened the door to his room. He had been limp and looked bored out of his mind. “You weren’t going to fuck her. You hated her touching you—”

Twisting my face to him, he swallows my mouth whole. From deep inside me he thrusts in angry, violent bursts. His kiss is endless as he pounds into me. He comes again, filling me and sending me into my own painful climax. The world goes black around me.

When I wake up, I’m still in Dominic’s arms, in spoon fashion, his hard chest against my back. He’s also still inside me. Both of his arms are around my waist in a firm hold.

I’m not sure if I’m impressed or scared of what this holds for the future. At the feel of him inside me, I sigh. Definitely scared. Scared because I love this, all of it. I think it was supposed to be a display of his power over me. No doubt about it, it also fills me with awe of what he does to me, the way he makes me feel.

Was Chloe right or was it all wishful thinking? It doesn’t feel like wishful thinking buried inside me right now. Dominic had pushed me, playing a painful game of chicken with Serena, with threatening another woman at all. He’ll never admit it, though, had been pissed I knew the truth. I remember Chloe’s words: let go. The dress was the first part of the plan, the apology had to come too, or we would never get past it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said that day. Hearing you say those things about me, how I was so willing, so easy... blame it on all the years of Catholic boarding school, Jane Austen, champagne, and the white dress. It filled me with shame, made me feel dirty because it was so true.” He goes tense, his arms tighten around me. “Whatever you want from me, I can’t deny you. However you want me, I’m yours.”

He doesn’t say anything for so long I wonder if I made it worse. “Why did you move out of my room?”

It’s the last question in the world I want to answer. He’ll know if I say it. In a warning he tightens his hold around me. Closing my eyes, I pray Chloe was right. “I hated the idea of sleeping in the same bed as all of the women who came before me. Once the thought hit me, I couldn’t let it go.”

No response. How could he respond to something so stupid? I sigh as I wonder if he’ll think I’m an idiot all over again. We lie together for a long time, neither of us moving. Even though there is still an underlying tension, there is also an odd comfort to his tight grip around me.