5. Asa

My eyes fluttered open,and for a moment, I lay still, basking in the unfamiliar comfort of the bed beneath me. The sheets were silk, a whisper against my skin, so different from the cotton I was used to. It took a heartbeat too long for the disorientation to dissipate, and as I took in my surroundings—the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the panoramic view of the city skyline, the ornate furniture that seemed to hold secrets of wealth and power—I felt it. The room was a cage of opulence that was as familiar as it was foreign.

This was my old bedroom in the Davenport penthouse.

Panic clawed its way up my throat, and I sat up abruptly, the sheets pooling around my waist. My breath came in short gasps as my gaze darted across every inch of the room. Every lavish detail seemed to mock me—the artful arrangements of flowers, the paintings on the wall that watched silently, and the delicate chandelier that cast prisms across the room.

My heart pounded like a drum against my rib cage as I struggled to remember how I got here. Hadn't I left this life behind? The fear twisted inside me like a live wire. Had I ever really escaped? Was this some cruel trick of fate? Or worse, a nightmare from which I couldn't wake?

The memories of last night flooded back in waves, crashing against the walls of my mind. Xavier appearing at the convenience store like a vision, his presence both unwelcomed and intimidating yet alluring. My omega heat, coming on unexpectedly and building within me until it consumed every fiber of my being. Those men on the street, drawn to me like moths to a flame, their intentions clear and terrifying, and Xavier intervening, a force of nature protecting what was his.

I remembered the urgency of my needs and his touch as he brought me here. The heat between us, scorching and primal, as we surrendered to the demands of my biology. His touch had been electric, igniting a fire within me that I thought had long been extinguished. And then Lucian joining us, his lips seeking mine with a tenderness that belied the raw need coursing through our veins.

Through the fog of desire, I vaguely remembered seeing Dominic's face on the screen of the phone, his intense, piercing gaze like a brand upon my soul, stirring a maelstrom of emotions within me. Then Lucian had taken his turn, worshipping my body with a gentleness that made me want to weep, all while Dominic watched through the digital screen, his presence as commanding as if he were in the room with us.

I looked down at my bare form, the evidence of our passionate reunion scattered across my flesh like crimson blossoms. Instinctively, my arms wrapped around myself, as if to shield me from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

Fear coiled within my chest, constricting my breath. Fear of the power they held over me, fear of the depth of my own longing. Yet that fear was laced with an undeniable yearning, a craving for the connection only they could provide.

Dominic. The man who could command a room with a single look. The thought of seeing him again made my heart race with a heady mix of trepidation and want. His presence would be my undoing and my salvation, a heaven and a hell that called to the most primal parts of my being.

I threw back the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. Each step felt heavy as if wading through an invisible force that tried to pull me back into a past filled with golden shackles. The penthouse was quiet, too quiet, and every soft creak of wood underfoot seemed amplified in the silence.

I went to stand by the window, peering down at the city below. The people on the streets were mere specks from this height, unaware of the turmoil brewing within these walls. They were free in ways I could only dream of.

The air felt cooler here by the glass, yet it did nothing to soothe the heat of anxiety flushing through me. A part of me wanted to scream, to shatter this illusion and wake up somewhere safe, somewhere familiar. But deep down, a whispering dread suggested that this was no illusion at all.

I wrapped my arms around myself, a feeble attempt at comfort, as memories swirled through my mind of three sets of eyes as deep and imposing as an abyss, a touch that could both promise safety and threaten oblivion, a bond that was meant to be unbreakable.

The sound of hushed voices crept through the silence, pricking at the edge of my solitude. I strained to listen, my breath held captive in my chest. A soft timbre, one that belonged to a maid, filtered through the crack under the door.

"I'm just about to go in and check on Mistress Asa," she murmured.

My heart skipped a beat, anxiety clawing its way back into my throat. The reply came not from another servant but from a voice that resonated with an authority that was both comforting and unnerving.

"No need, I'll take care of that," Lucian's voice, smooth as velvet yet firm in its intent, left no room for argument.

Panic surged through me like a tidal wave. Face Lucian now? With my thoughts still tangled in knots from last night's tempest of desire and fear? No, I couldn't—not yet. Desperation lent speed to my limbs as I scrambled back under the covers, pulling them up to my chin and squeezing my eyes shut. My heart hammered against my ribs as I feigned sleep, willing my breaths to even out into the slow rhythm of slumber.

The door opened with a quiet click, and I sensed him before I heard him move, a presence that filled the room like sunlight chasing away shadows. My skin prickled with awareness as he placed a tray on the bedside table, the clink of porcelain and glass barely registering over the sound of my own pulse thrumming in my ears.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat beside me, and I fought to keep my body limp, unresponsive. He leaned down, and his lips brushed against my temple, a kiss featherlight yet searing enough to burn through the veil of pretense.

"I wish I could stay with you," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. "But there's business I must attend to. Xavier will be back from work this evening."

Lucian's proximity sent a jolt through me, his warmth radiating in waves, beckoning me toward the shelter of his arms. The scent of his alpha pheromones enveloped me, beautiful and potent, stirring an ache deep within. It took every ounce of strength not to lean into that intoxicating comfort.

With tremendous effort, I remained still as stone even after hearing his footsteps retreat and the door close softly behind him.

I lay motionless long after Lucian's departure, the echo of the door closing like the seal of a verdict I wasn't ready to face. But the gnawing emptiness in my stomach soon became a distraction too persistent to ignore. Tentatively, I opened my eyes and pushed back the covers, sitting up with a cautious glance toward the door. Assured of my solitude, I reached for the tray Lucian had left behind.

The spread was a reminder of a life I'd left, a life where every meal was a carefully crafted experience. There was a crystal glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, its vibrant color promising a burst of flavor. Beside it sat a delicate china plate with a croissant that flaked at the touch, revealing its buttery layers. A small bowl held an assortment of berries, their colors jewellike and glistening with droplets of water. A silver dome covered the main course, and as I lifted it, the aroma of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs mingled with the subtle scent of dill and chives wafted up to greet me.

I allowed myself to savor each bite, remembering how meals like this used to be an everyday occurrence, the richness of flavors I had taken for granted. Now they tasted like distant luxuries. In my sparse apartment, meals were utilitarian, nutrients over indulgence, something I went without more often than not to stretch my meager budget for suppressant pills and rent.

With each forkful, memories flooded back, the sharp contrast between this world and my own. Yet despite the disparity, there was no denying the pleasure that simple act of eating brought me.

After finishing the meal, I rose from bed and headed to the en suite bathroom. The shower's hiss filled the space as steam curled upward, fogging the mirror. Stepping under the cascade of warm water washed away more than just the physical remnants of last night; it was as if each droplet took with it a sliver of my trepidation.

Dried and wrapped in a plush towel, I browsed through my old wardrobe. My fingers trailed over fabrics until they settled on something familiar, a pair of loose silk pants paired with a soft cotton t-shirt that draped comfortably around my frame.

Emerging from the room felt like stepping onto a stage. The hallway was quiet but not empty. Harris stood at attention near the stairwell, his posture impeccable as always.

"Good morning, Mistress Asa," he greeted with a slight bow of his head. "It's good to have you home."

The warmth in his voice stirred something in me, a sense of belonging that had nothing to do with wealth or status.

"Thank you, Harris," I replied, offering him a small but genuine smile.

As I made my way through the penthouse, other familiar faces greeted me, each one bringing forth memories of kindness in this vast place that often felt too cold. The housekeeper, Mrs. Eldridge, approached with open arms.

"Mistress Asa," she exclaimed softly as she embraced me in a gentle hug that spoke volumes about her care for those who lived under this roof. "We've missed you dearly."

The affection from her and the other maids wrapped around me like a blanket, comforting yet suffocating with its implications of permanence within these walls.

Stepping into the drawing room, I hesitated at the threshold, overcome by the sheer beauty that unfolded before me. It was a vast expanse of elegance and comfort, with plush sofas that beckoned one to sink into their depths and lose track of time. Sunlight filtered through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden pools on the polished wood floor. The walls were adorned with exquisite artwork, each piece carefully selected to complement the room's warm tones. This was where we had often gathered in the evenings, the brothers sharing their day while I listened, curled up by the fireplace that now stood silent and cold.

Next, I wandered into the library, a sanctuary of mahogany and leather that still carried the faint scent of old books and rich wood polish. The shelves reached up to the high ceiling, lined with countless volumes that held stories of adventure, romance, and knowledge. It was in this room where Xavier would spend hours lost in his latest project, his gray eyes reflecting the glow from his laptop screen as he worked late into the night.

Adjacent to the library was the gallery, an expansive space where time seemed to stand still. The soft lighting accentuated each painting and sculpture, showcasing a collection that spanned centuries and styles. The brothers had taken pride in their collection, often engaging in spirited discussions about acquisitions. I'd walk these halls, feeling the weight of history in every brushstroke and chisel mark.

With a deep breath to steady my emotions, I stepped outside onto the private courtyard garden. The transition from indoor opulence to outdoor extravagance was seamless. Here, amid a sea of blossoms and plants that thrived despite their high-altitude home, was tranquility personified. Marble paths wound through beds of vibrant flowers and manicured hedges, leading to secluded benches where one could sit and reflect.

The garden's crowning glory was its view of the city skyline, an awe-inspiring panorama that stretched out before me like a canvas painted with life's ceaseless energy. Skyscrapers pierced the sky, while below, the city pulsed with movement, a stark contrast to this elevated haven of peace.

I found myself drawn to a wrought-iron bench overlooking this vista. Settling onto it, I allowed myself a moment of respite, a chance to take in the city as it moved without me. Here, among blooms that perfumed the air and leaves that whispered secrets carried by the wind, I could almost imagine a different life—a life where such beauty wasn't tinged with memories both sweet and sorrowful.

The tranquility of the garden clung to me like a lingering perfume as I turned back toward the penthouse. Each step felt heavier, laden with a history that refused to stay buried. My heart thrummed a chaotic rhythm, its beats echoing the turmoil within.

I moved through the corridors, the grandeur of the penthouse pressing in on me from all sides. Without realizing it, my feet carried me toward Dominic's room. It was like a magnet, drawing me in with an invisible force that resonated deep in my bones.

The door to his room loomed before me, and I hesitated only for a moment before my hand found the knob, turning it with a resolve I didn't feel. As I stepped inside, Dominic's scent enveloped me, a potent mix of cedar and leather that spoke of his commanding presence.

My breath hitched in my throat as memories cascaded over me—nights spent wrapped in his arms, his steel-gray eyes locking on to mine with an intensity that both thrilled and terrified me. The room was a reflection of him, with dark woods and deep blues that exuded power and control. His bed was meticulously made, the pillows perfectly placed, an outward sign of the discipline he wielded in every aspect of life.

I felt my omega heat stir at the essence of him that lingered in the air, awakening desires I'd tried to bury. The dizzying effect made my knees buckle slightly, and I steadied myself against the back of an armchair. His scent called to something primal within me, an echo of a bond that was both sacred and overwhelming.

With shaky steps, I retreated from Dominic's room, closing the door on a past that clung to me like a shadow. The hallway seemed to spin as I navigated my way back to my own sanctuary, trying to steady my racing heart.

Harris' voice broke through my haze as he spoke to Mrs. Eldridge and the maids. "Master Dominic will be arriving this evening from London, earlier than planned," he said with an urgency that set everyone into motion.

My pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Dominic again so soon, elation warring with nausea at the tangled web of emotions his presence would invoke.

As staff scurried away to prepare for his arrival, I overheard two maids whispering among themselves. "It's because Mistress Asa is back," one said with certainty. "That's why Master Dominic is returning earlier than expected."

The other nodded in agreement, their voices fading as they moved down the hall.

A sense of weightlessness washed over me. His return for me felt like an honor yet also a burden that sat uneasily in my stomach.

The very thought of seeing Dominic, of those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me, sent waves of nausea churning through my stomach again. I couldn't do it; seeing him would unravel me completely. My resolve for my independence would come crashing down at just the mere sight of him.

I turned on my heel and rushed into my room, the door closing behind me with a soft click. My heart was pounding, a frenzied drumbeat urging me to move, to act. If I wanted to flee, I had to do it now before they arranged bodyguards on me, men who'd follow me like shadows.

I flung open the doors to the walk-in closet, a cavernous space lined with silks and satins that shimmered under the soft lighting. Gowns with beaded embellishments hung next to tailored suits, each piece more exquisite than the last—a wardrobe fit for royalty. Shelves housed delicate perfumes in crystal flacons, their scents a bouquet of gardens from around the world. Drawers overflowed with jewelry that glittered like stars plucked from the night sky—diamonds, sapphires, and rubies set in intricate designs.

My old street clothes, a pair of worn jeans and a faded hoodie, lay folded in stark contrast amid this opulence. They were remnants of a life where I was invisible in crowds, where my voice was just another in the din of the city. Here in this temple of luxury, they seemed like relics from another world, out of place yet achingly familiar.

With trembling hands, I shed the silk pants and cotton shirt and slipped into my jeans. The denim hugged my legs in a familiar embrace as I pulled the hoodie over my head, its soft fabric a whisper of normalcy. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked at myself in the mirror, one step closer to being just Asa again, not Mistress Asa or Mrs. Davenport.

I found my phone resting atop the bedside table, and with one last glance around the room, I pocketed the phone and slipped out.

The penthouse buzzed with activity; staff flitted about like bees in a hive, polishing silverware and adjusting cushions, all to ensure perfection for Dominic's return. I kept close to the walls, my presence unnoticed as everyone busied themselves with their tasks.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I reached the service elevator at the end of a secluded corridor. With the press of a button, a ding signaled its arrival, and I stepped inside, the doors closing on the life I was leaving behind, if only for a moment.

* * *

The chillof the apartment seeped through my clothes as I turned the key in the lock, the familiar scent of home, a mix of old wood and a hint of lavender from a dried-up air freshener, greeting me. But before I could take in the cluttered space, a whirlwind of white fur bounded toward me, a high-pitched bark echoing off the walls.

"Frost!" I exclaimed as the little Maltese leaped into my arms, his tiny tail wagging so furiously it was a blur. His coat was pure white, much like my own hair, and he had this way of looking at me with those dark, expressive eyes that felt like he could see into my soul.

He showered me with kisses, each one a soft touch that melted away the layers of tension that had built up since leaving the penthouse. Frost was more than just a pet, he was a reminder of compassion, a life I'd saved when I had so little to give myself.

I'd found him six months ago, huddled in an alleyway, his bones nearly piercing through his thin skin. He'd been discarded, left to fend for himself in a world that seemed to have no place for the weak. But in his eyes, I saw a will to survive that mirrored my own. Despite my meager savings, I couldn't leave him to die alone. So I brought him home, feeding him from what little food I had and nursing him back to health.

Now, here he was, full of life and joy, my tiny guardian angel. During those long nights when my body ached for the touch of Dominic, Xavier, and Lucian, when the heat made me writhe in agony, it was Frost's presence that grounded me. His warmth against my skin reminded me that there was love in this world that asked for nothing in return.

I set Frost down and made my way to the kitchenette. It wasn't much, a few cabinets showing their age and appliances that were well past their prime, but it was where I could care for him. I filled his bowl with kibble and watched as he attacked his meal with gusto.

The simple act of feeding Frost filled me with a sense of purpose. It didn't matter how small or insignificant it seemed; this was something real and tangible, a life depending on me.

Exhaustion clawed at my limbs as I watched Frost eat. The adrenaline that had fueled my escape from the Davenport penthouse had ebbed away, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. With heavy eyelids drooping, I stumbled over to the tattered couch in the living room and collapsed onto it.

Frost finished his meal and trotted over to where I lay. He jumped up beside me, curling into a small ball against my side. His steady breathing soon became the sweetest lullaby, lulling me into darkness as sleep claimed me at last.

I woke to the sound of Frost's frantic barking, his small body vibrating with alarm next to me on the couch. My eyes snapped open, and my senses were immediately assaulted by a potent scent that made my head swim—alpha pheromones, unmistakably Dominic's.

Panic clawed at my chest, stealing my breath. How did he find me? I had been so careful to leave no trace, to ensure none of them knew of this place that was mine alone.

I scooped up Frost in trembling arms and pressed a finger to my lips, pleading with him silently. Understanding flickered in his dark eyes, and his barking ceased, though his body remained tense against mine.

The banging on the door jolted me from my frozen state. My heart pounded like a drum in my ears, threatening to burst through my rib cage. I moved swiftly to the bedroom, the sanctuary within my sanctuary, and closed the door behind me. Distance was futile against an alpha like Dominic, but every inch felt like a precious barrier.

His muffled voice pierced through the wood. "Asa!" The desperation in Dominic's call twisted in my gut, stirring a cocktail of fear and unwanted longing.

The sound of the door being kicked in echoed in the quiet apartment. I flinched at the violence of it, the undeniable display of alpha strength that Dominic wielded without hesitation.

Frost leaped from my arms with a growl that belied his small size. He ran to the bedroom door and barked again, louder and more aggressively than before. His loyalty was fierce but misplaced, his barking was a beacon calling Dominic straight to me.

I pressed my back against the far wall, wishing for it to yield and grant me an escape. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in as each second passed. Where could I hide? The closet? Under the bed? They were child's games of hide-and-seek against an alpha who could sniff out an omega with ease.

The footsteps grew nearer, each one a measured beat counting down to the inevitable. My breaths came out in shallow gasps as dread pooled heavy in my stomach. Frost's barks continued unabated, valiant but futile against the force that was Dominic Davenport.

My back pressed hard against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat flaring within me. Fear and anticipation tangled in my chest, tightening with every breath. The bedroom door didn't stand a chance as it burst open with a force that sent a shiver down my spine, and there he stood—Dominic Davenport, my husband, the ultimate alpha of alphas.

Dominic was a tower of controlled power, his height looming over the broken threshold. His body was a study in disciplined strength, broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist, each muscle honed from years of meticulous physical training. His dark hair, the color of midnight without a star in sight, was styled with precision, not a strand out of place despite the fury that had propelled him here.

His chiseled face bore an expression that could only be described as predatory concern. Those eyes, steel gray with an undercurrent of cobalt, pierced through the distance between us. They bored into me with an intensity that spoke of raw power and an unwavering resolve that had commanded boardrooms and bent wills.

And his lips… those firm, commanding lips that had whispered promises in the dark were now set in a thin line of barely restrained emotion.

As he stared at me, I felt my knees weaken, a juxtaposition of longing laced with an undercurrent of trepidation. The air around us crackled with tension. His gaze was like a physical touch that reached out and wrapped around my heart, squeezing until I thought I might crumple.

Frost seemed to sense the change in the air, as he ceased his barking. With one last defiant growl muffled by uncertainty, he scampered behind my legs, seeking refuge.

As he closed the distance, Dominic's gait was reminiscent of a panther gliding through dense underbrush, a silent promise of inevitable confrontation. Each step was measured and deliberate, his natural grace belying the simmering aggression that marked his status as an alpha predator.

I stood frozen, my breath caught in my throat as he approached. There was nowhere to run, no place to hide from the intensity of his presence. The room seemed to shrink around us until there was nothing but Dominic and me, the world outside this moment forgotten.

He stood inches from me, his frame towering over me. His chiseled features were thrown into sharp relief by the moonlight filtering in through the window, casting dramatic shadows that only heightened his alpha presence. Dominic's eyes bored into mine with a fervidness that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, their steel-gray depths reflecting a storm of emotions I couldn't begin to unravel.

His alpha pheromones swirled around me, a tangible force that made my head swim and my lungs tighten as if the very air was being squeezed from them. I felt trapped in their embrace, ensnared by an invisible web that bound me to him in ways I couldn't escape.

The distance between us vanished as he leaned in close, his breath warm against my skin, his body radiating a scorching heat that seared through the thin barrier of my clothes.

"Asa, my sweet Asa," he whispered, his voice a deep rumble that reverberated through my very core.

Then, with an urgency that stole my breath, he crushed his lips against mine in a searing kiss that set my world ablaze. The press of his mouth was insistent, demanding, devouring me with a fervor that spoke of pent-up longing and raw need.

The ferocity of his hunger sent shock waves coursing through me. His tongue plundered, demanding entry, and I surrendered to the onslaught of sensations that threatened to overwhelm me, my body betraying the confusion of my mind. Part of me wanted to melt into him, to lose myself in the storm he conjured with each movement of his lips against mine. Yet another part recoiled at the intensity, at the way this kiss laid bare the depth of our connection—a connection that was as undeniable as it was overwhelming.

His hands were on me then, strong and unyielding as they anchored me to him. One cupped the back of my head while the other traced the curve of my spine, pressing me closer until there was no space left between us. I could feel every line of his body against mine, every contour as familiar as my own.

The kiss deepened, and I swayed under its power, caught in a tempest of emotion that both pleased and scared me. It promised ecstasy and surrender, but also hinted at loss, the loss of control over my own heart.

The kiss was intense, primal, a manifestation of Dominic's alpha nature and his absolute claim over me. It ignited a fire in my veins, setting every nerve ending ablaze with a hunger that mirrored his own. Yet, even as desire flooded my senses, a tendril of fear coiled in the depths of my being, a reminder of the power he wielded over me.

My knees buckled under the intensity of Dominic's kiss, a strength leaving my body in waves, surrendering to the gravity of his presence. As he released my lips, his steely gaze held mine, unwavering and commanding. He bent down and swept me into his arms with an ease that spoke of his power, cradling me against his chest as if I were the most precious treasure.

"Let's go home, Asa," he murmured, a resonance in his voice that allowed no room for dissent. It was not a question but a statement, a decree from the alpha who claimed me as his own. In the cocoon of his hold, resistance was futile. I could only nod weakly, my mind still reeling from the force of our connection.

As Dominic strode toward the door, he issued a terse command to one of his men—three who had silently infiltrated my sanctuary with him.

"Take care of the puppy."

One of them stepped forward and scooped up Frost into his arms. The little Maltese barked once, a sharp sound of surprise before settling into the stranger's hold.

We descended through the dimly lit corridor and out into the night. The city's underbelly was alive with sounds and shadows, but none dared approach as Dominic's entourage surrounded us, a phalanx of silent protectors.

At the curb waited a sleek dark limousine, its presence incongruous against the gritty backdrop. One of Dominic's men, Marco Bianchi, lead security for the Davenport brothers, held open the car door with practiced decorum. Dominic placed me gently onto the plush leather seat before sliding in beside me.

The comfort of the limousine contrasted sharply with my tumultuous emotions—a sanctuary within a trap, velvet-lined walls offering solace yet serving as barriers to a world I could no longer navigate freely. Marco climbed into the front passenger seat, now cradling Frost tenderly in his lap. My heart warmed at Frost's bark, even in confusion and change, he found joy in simple things like car rides.

"Drive," Dominic instructed the man behind the wheel in a tone that brooked no delay. The driver complied immediately, and with a smooth start, we began our journey back to the life I had tried to escape, a life where my place was both cherished and confined by love and possession.

The city lights blurred past the tinted windows of the limousine, their glow a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to seep from every corner. I sank deeper into the leather seat, a futile attempt to distance myself from the heat that was slowly kindling within me. My breaths grew shallow, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on my skin. I hadn't taken a suppressant this morning; I had none left.

The telltale signs of my heat began to manifest, subtle at first but growing more insistent by the second. My skin felt too tight, my clothes constrictive, as if every fiber was laced with itch and irritation. A warmth blossomed deep in my belly, spreading like wildfire through my veins, leaving a trail of need in its wake.

I pressed my thighs together, trying to quell the rising tide of sensation that threatened to wash over me. It was no use. The omega pheromones that I usually kept at bay with medication were now unfurling within the confines of the car, invisible tendrils seeking out the alpha beside me.

Dominic shifted his gaze from the window to me, his eyes narrowing as he picked up on the change in my scent. He leaned in close, his hand cupping my face with an authority that demanded compliance.

"Asa, look at me," he said, his voice low and steady.

I lifted my eyes to meet his, my body trembling with the effort it took to hold back the moans that begged for release. The intensity in his gray eyes was a storm brewing on the horizon, dark and foreboding.

"When did you take your last suppressant?" he asked, his thumb tracing my jawline with a touch that sparked more flames inside me.

"Last night," I managed to whisper through lips that felt swollen with desire.

"Why didn't you take another one this morning? Your routine one?" His brow furrowed in frustration as he sought an answer.

"I ran out," I confessed, a mixture of shame and relief washing over me as I admitted the truth.

Dominic's jaw clenched for a moment before he turned his head slightly toward Marco. "Get the pill from the glove box," he commanded without looking away from me.

Marco reached into the glove box and retrieved the bottle of suppressants, passing it over to Dominic without hesitation.

Relief surged through me at the sight of the small bottle, the promise of control regained. Dominic unscrewed the lid and shook out a single pill. But instead of handing it to me as I expected, he placed it between his own lips.

Stunned yet somehow not surprised by his actions, I watched as Dominic leaned in closer. His mouth found mine in an assertive kiss, his tongue slipping between my lips to deliver the suppressant into my mouth, the taste of him mingling with the bitter tang of the suppressant. I swallowed reflexively as our kiss deepened, each movement deliberate and consuming, unrelenting, demanding my complete surrender as our lips moved in a primal dance.

My body betrayed me, arching into his touch as the fire of my heat raged hotter. His scent, rich and earthy with notes of sandalwood and musk, enveloped me, stoking the flames until I thought I might combust. Each brush of his lips against mine ignited sparks that raced along my nerve endings, setting me ablaze with need.

When he finally pulled away, I was breathless and trembling. My lips tingled from the intensity of his kiss, my skin flushed with desire. Yet even as the pill began to take effect, dampening the worst of my heat, I knew one wouldn't be enough.

The pheromones were surging through my body, igniting me with a desire that threatened to consume me. I would need at least two or three suppressants to completely soothe the raging fire within me, an amount that wasn't recommended, but one I had grown accustomed to during my stay with the Davenport brothers.

In the early days of our marriage, I had been so fearful of their touch, so terrified of the power they held over me, that I had resorted to taking higher doses of suppressants just to keep my heat at bay. It was a dangerous game, one that could have had severe consequences, but at the time, it seemed like the only way to maintain some semblance of control over my own body.

Dominic seemed to read the lingering hunger in my eyes. His gaze never left mine as he opened the pill bottle once more. With deliberate movements, he plucked another suppressant from the container and brought it to his lips. But this time, he didn't lean in to kiss me. Instead, he watched me expectantly, the pill resting on his tongue, his piercing eyes locking me captive as he waited, a silent challenge hanging in the air between us.

I knew this game well—a ritual of power and control that we'd played countless times. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a power play that both thrilled and terrified me. Dominic's control over me extended beyond the physical; it seeped into every aspect of my being, from the way I breathed to the way my body responded to his presence.

Desperate for the pill, I shifted my weight and straddled his lap, my thighs bracketing his hips as I pressed myself flush against him. His lips curved into the barest hint of a satisfied smile, a silent acknowledgment of my submission to his game. I leaned in until our faces were mere inches apart, close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath fanning across my skin.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him closer still, my body trembling with want, my fingers tangling in the soft hair at his nape. Our lips brushed, a tantalizing caress that held the promise of relief. I pressed harder, my mouth seeking entrance, desperate to claim the pill he held between those firm, unyielding lips. I could taste the bitterness of the suppressant on his tongue, so tantalizingly close yet frustratingly out of reach as his lips remained firmly sealed.

Dominic remained steadfast, his jaw set in a display of dominance that only fanned the flames of my desire. A low whimper escaped me as I worked to coax his lips apart, my tongue seeking the pill that would grant me a reprieve from the raging fire within, silently pleading for him to relent, to grant me the mercy of the suppressant.

His hands found my waist, gripping me with a possessive strength that both anchored and ignited me. I arched into his touch, my hips rocking against him in a wordless entreaty. My tongue traced the seam of his lips, coaxing, imploring, until finally—blissfully—they parted.

I surged forward, plundering his mouth with a fervor that bordered on frenzy. Our breaths mingled, hot and ragged, as our tongues danced, twisting and twining in a heated duel as I sought out the precious pill. The taste of him, rich and heady, flooded my senses, momentarily distracting me from my goal.

And then, at last, I felt it—the smooth surface of the suppressant against my questing tongue. With a surge of relief, I claimed my prize, swallowing it down greedily. I should have pulled away then, should have retreated to my side of the limousine to regain my composure. But Dominic had other plans. His hand fisted in my hair, holding me in place as his lips claimed mine once more.

This kiss was different—hungry, demanding, an assertion of his dominance that left no room for denial. He ravished my mouth with a ferocity that stole all coherent thought, his tongue plundering, claiming, until I was dizzy and breathless. His free hand roaming over the curves of my body with possessive fervor, igniting sparks of pleasure that mingled with the lingering heat of my suppressed desire. I melted against him, my body molding to his as he consumed me with his kiss.

I clung to him, adrift in a storm of sensation, powerless against the onslaught of his possession. My fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt as I surrendered to the maelstrom of his touch, his scent, his taste.

When he finally released me, I was utterly undone. My lips were swollen from the kiss, my body trembling with the aftershocks of desire. Boneless and spent, I collapsed against his chest, my cheek resting over the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

Dominic's arms encircled me, a steel band of possession that held me close, even as the haze of euphoria began to fade. In that moment, I was his—wholly and completely, a willing captive to the depth of our connection.