14. Madelyn

CHAPTER 14

Madelyn

I n all my twenty-nine years of life, I don’t think I’ve ever trusted anyone, except my mother. And then she died, leaving me alone. In every sense of the word, because I was suddenly in a world in which I had no one to turn to. No father, no relatives—I only had myself to depend on. That realization was the driving force in making me who I am today.

A flower. A rose with thorns. Outwardly, I’m a friendly, cheerful woman, but I never let anyone in. No one really gets to see who I am.

Right now, though, as I’m standing in front of the man who’s managed to overturn my entire life in such a short time, I realize I want Dominic to see who I am. For the first time in years, I feel a flicker of trust—a fragile, trembling thing. Dominic might just be the one to catch me when I fall.

“Okay,” I say softly.

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Okay?”

“Yeah, you can be the MJ to my Spiderman,” I tell him with a smile.

Dominic grins. “I think you’ve got that flipped.”

“No,” I correct. “I’ll do all the saving for both of us. All you need to do is stand there and look pretty.”

“And how do you plan to do all this saving ?” he questions, pulling me in by the waist.

“Easy. With my fists,” I state. Then, in a surprise attack, I swipe some whipped cream off my cup of hot chocolate and flick it over his face. He splutters in confusion and the look on his face has me cracking up.

His eyes narrow into a playful glare.

“Oh, shit,” I say between laughs, and then I’m running away in the direction of the living room.

He catches up to me in no time, pushing me against the wall. His hand grips me by the hip and my heart rate reaches maximum speed as I stare into his gray eyes.

“Do that again and I’ll punish the fuck out of you, Flowers,” he growls, his hand sliding to where my dress stops above my knee.

“Promise?”

There’s barely an inch of space between us. I’m almost sure he can feel the pounding in my chest. Dominic’s eyes flutter shut and he groans softly before leaning down to kiss me. I’m robbed of breath and, like always, everything else falls away. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, our lips and tongues clashing.

When he pulls away, he places his forehead against mine, both of us trying to catch our breath.

“You have no idea how you make me feel. How hard I get for you. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking you in the last few weeks? I would have taken you hard and fast and rough, rough enough that you’d be feeling me inside of you for days. I would claim every inch of you and not be satisfied,” he says in a dark voice that should terrify the fuck out of me.

Instead I shiver, my body coming alight at his words.

“So claim me,” I whisper.

The look in his eyes turns a little animalistic as he fists the shirt that I’m wearing upward before shifting my panties to the side. He shoves a finger inside of me so fast, it wrenches a gasp a surprise from my lips.

“Always so wet and ready for me, Flowers,” he murmurs.

“Dominic,” I moan.

My lips tremble as I hold on to him, gripping his arm as the onslaught of emotions and erotic stimuli washes over me. He swipes a finger through my folds, catching the arousal on his fingers and bringing it to his mouth.

“You taste really fucking good, baby,” he says on a groan that has me feeling even more wanton than before.

I pant, my chest rising and falling. I was so close to an orgasm just now; I need him to keep going. Dominic smirks like he can tell exactly what I’m thinking.

“You want to come, don’t you?” he asks.

“Obviously,” I grit out.

He shakes a finger in front of my face. “What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck you?” I snap in frustration.

“Close, but no,” he says, grinning. “Try again, sweetheart.”

“You’re a dickhead and a tyrant who gets off on seeing me beg?”

“Those still aren’t the words I’m looking for.” He strokes the pad of his thumb up and down my clit with a feather touch.

“Please,” is wrenched from my lips soon after. “Please, please, please make me come, Dom.”

“I love it when you beg me, Madelyn,” he says right before he slides a finger inside of me, then another.

I squeeze my eyes shut in pleasure, my mouth dropping open. Dominic grasps the nape of my neck and tugs me toward him, exploring my mouth with his tongue while he does the same between my legs with his other hand. It’s almost too much. My heart skips and my vision clouds. His fingers pump into me, and the sound fills the space.

Dominic releases my neck to pull up the shirt so that my breasts tumble free. He twirls one hard nipple between his fingers, adding the sensory overload.

“That’s it, baby, you’re so close,” he whispers against my lips.

“Yes, yes, like that, Dom,” I cry, too far gone to care about the desperation in my voice.

When I look into his eyes, it feels like falling. My panting turns to moaning as my walls grip his curved fingers, until he’s able to stroke the orgasm out of me. He takes my mouth again, swallowing the scream that escapes me as I finally come.

When I finally return to planet Earth, Dominic’s staring at me intently, something like adoration in his expression.

“What?” I ask.

“You look pretty when you come. Your pussy was squeezing my fingers so hard. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock,” he says with a wolfish grin.

Fuck, I really, really love his dirty talk.

“Take off the shirt,” he orders.

I do so like an obedient girl, lifting it over my head. My underwear follows in quick succession until I’m standing naked in front of him. He’s also undressed to a certain degree. And by that I mean he’s undone his buckle and his cock is currently standing erect in front of me, hard and huge, already leaking with pre-cum.

My eyes narrow, though, when I take in the rest of him.

“If I have to get naked, you do too,” I state.

Dominic smiles but doesn’t argue. Holding eye contact, he slowly pulls his shirt over his head and then takes off his pants as well. I suck in a sharp breath out of expectation.

“You ready, baby?” he asks, shifting closer and slowly lifting me up so my core is in line with his cock.

I nod jerkily and he growls before bumping the crown of his cock against my clit. Once, twice. Just as I’m about to beg for it, he pauses. My eyes meet his in confusion.

“Condom,” he grits out.

My eyes widen. I never forget condoms, ever. But I got carried away and it seems he did, too. I should tell him to stop, to get a condom.

“I’m on birth control,” I find myself saying instead. “And I’m clean. I got tested about two months ago and I haven’t been with anyone else since.”

Dominic glares at my mentioning being with anyone else. I roll my eyes. Possessive caveman.

“I’m clean, too,” he mutters.

“Okay. So…” I prompt.

“So this.” And then he’s thrusting inside of me in one violent go.

My back arches off the wall and a powerful shudder rips through me. He lifts my legs so they’re wrapped around his waist as he drives into me with deep, harsh strokes that are meant to punish me, just like he promised.

“You’re taking me so well, Flowers. So well,” he says, enunciating his words with thrusts.

He pulls out all the way to the tip, then slams back inside me, hitting a spot so deep and turning me into a puddle of emotions. He slides his hand up my breasts and calmly wraps it around my throat, lifting my head in the process until I’m looking at him.

He drives into me harder, fucking me like he owns every inch of me. I can feel my walls tightening around him, strangling his dick as he groans. My core clenches in short intervals as he thrusts into me. It goes on and on. Dominic fucks me like he’s on the edge of a cliff. It’s raw and primal, intense and punishing.

“We’re going to come together, Madelyn. I want you to scream,” he tells me.

As soon as his fingers brush against my aching clit, I scream as he asked. My nails scrape his arms and I come harder than I ever have in my life. Dominic grunts as well, and I feel his release coating my insides a second later.

I’m still a mess when he pulls out of me. He doesn’t drop me, though. I clutch him as he carries me in the direction of his bedroom. His scent immediately surrounds me and I suck in some much needed air.

Dominic places me gingerly in the middle of the bed. He steps away, and when he returns, it’s with some tissue and a washcloth. I’m physically unable to move so I can only watch as he uses some of the tissues to clean my thighs before proceeding to wipe all over my body.

It’s the best aftercare I’ve ever received and my heart is a racing, thudding drum by the time he’s done. He doesn’t say a word and neither do I. I just watch him as he massages my sore thighs and then the rest of my body. His ministrations are so soothing, I find myself drifting off.

I fight to stay awake but it’s no use.

“Thank you,” I murmur softly right before my eyes fall closed and my breathing evens out.

When I wake up, I find myself wrapped in a warm cocoon. Dominic’s arm is wrapped around my middle, pulling me against him, while his other arm is slung over me. He’s literally hugging me like a koala bear, and I feel safer than I ever have.

I also didn’t have any nightmares. I slept soundly. It’s bright out now, sunlight streaming through the window drapes. I’m stunned by how long I slept and how comfortable I was through the night. I try to wriggle free, but instead of letting go, he only seems to hold me tighter—which is how I know he’s awake.

“Dominic,” I murmur in frustration.

“Shh, stay still,” he whispers.

His fingers begin trailing along my bare stomach, reaching toward my breasts. As soon as he touches a nipple, I feel a zap of electricity go through me. Just like that, my body is primed and ready to go. It’s amazing what his simple touch can elicit in me. And I hate that he’s very aware of it.

He flips me onto my back and climbs on top of me in one fluid movement. He places a soft, heart-stopping kiss against my lips.

“Morning, baby. Want some breakfast?” he asks.

My heart lurches in my chest at the playful glint in his eyes.

“Sure, pancakes sound nice.”

“I’ll make you some,” he promises. “But first, I’m going to have some breakfast of my own. You.”

That’s all the warning I get before he leans down, his hot breath blowing over my clit. Five minutes later, I’m screaming his name amidst cries and pleas for him to never stop.

Best. Morning. Ever.

“We could literally be watching anything else right now,” Dominic complains for the fifth time.

We’re cuddled up under a blanket on the couch in his living room while watching a movie. Dominic called in sick for both of us. There are some perks to dating my boss’s friend.

Although technically, I wouldn’t say we’re dating , dating. I honestly have no idea. The man calls me “baby” and “his,” stalks me, and fucks me hard enough that I forget my own name. From all of that, it’s pretty easy to infer that we’re in a relationship. Or at a situationship maybe. But he’s also never mentioned anything official. When it comes to men, the worst thing you can do is assume anything.

Until he asks, or at least calls me his girlfriend, things aren’t set in stone.

“Hallmark movies are a Christmas tradition,” I tell him while grabbing a handful of popcorn.

It’s already late afternoon. We had breakfast, then went back to bed for some more sex, and then I fell asleep again. I’ve slept more in the past twenty-four hours than I have in weeks. I’m this close to asking Dominic if he’s casting some sort of sleep spell on me.

“It’s all the same boring bullshit, though. Somehow, the couple always seems to have that moment where they realize they’re meant to be together right in front of a beautifully lit Christmas tree,” he says on an eye roll.

I think it over and realize he might be right. Most of my favorite Christmas movies do have that specific scene.

“Okay, fine. Cheesy Hallmark movies aside, isn’t there anything you like about Christmas? The lights? Food? Music?”

He makes a face. “If I say yes, will you stop asking?”

“Nice try, Grinch. But I’ll make you crack eventually. We’re going to enjoy Christmas together. I’m making it my mission to ensure it’s the best one you’ve ever had,” I promise.

“Don’t worry, Flowers, there’s not much competition.”

I pause, taking in his shadowed expression. “What do you mean?”

He hesitates a beat before speaking. “I haven’t really had any happy Christmases. I haven’t enjoyed the holidays in a long time. Not since I lost my family.”

My heart drops at that. I suspected he had trauma similar to mine, but confronting it is painful all the same.

“Your family?” I question gently.

He nods. “I lost my mom, dad and brother all at once when I was a kid.”

I gasp, finally getting a glimpse into why he is the way he is now. The reason he’s so closed off to the world.

“Is Ilya your brother?” I question, placing a hand on his arm.

His eyes widen as he stares at me.

“You said his name when you were dreaming the other day,” I inform him.

He relaxes, then offers me a short nod without making eye contact. My gut reaction is to tell him I’m sorry, but I remember how hollow those words felt whenever anyone said that in relation to my mother, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I bury my face into the side of his neck, wrapping my arms around him in a hug.

“You did so well to survive on your own,” I say softly. “I’m proud of you.”

Those are the words I desperately wanted to hear as a twelve-year-old who had just witnessed her mother’s murder. And now I get to say them to comfort the only person who feels like home in the same way my mother did before she died.