The air between us stretched taut, a trembling thread one breath away from breaking.
His hand wrapped around mine—warm, certain, a tether to something reckless and irresistible. I could still feel his words on my skin, still hear them in my head. The things he’d promised to do to me. The way he looked at me like I was already undone beneath him.
My ex never looked at me like that.
Not once in the last year.
He stopped touching me, stopped wanting me. I became invisible to him. A body he barely looked at. A body that was too soft, too full, too much.
But this man—this sinfully handsome stranger with a voice like gravel and hands made for sin—was staring at me like I was the most captivating thing on this island. Like I was worth devouring. Worth remembering.
And God help me, I wanted to be wanted.
Even if it was just for one night.
Even if I’d wake up tomorrow alone.
Maybe Carrie was right. Maybe I did need to run.
Maybe this—him—was exactly where I needed to run to.
I didn’t say anything. Just slid my hand into his and let him lead me.
We didn’t rush.
He didn’t pull or drag or speak. He didn’t have to. I followed, heart pounding, thighs still trembling, each step a surrender.
The soft thud of our sandals on the boardwalk. The rustle of wind through palm trees. The distant pulse of ocean waves brushing the shore. Everything else faded into a dream.
Resort lights glowed low around us—strings of lanterns and tiki torches lining the path like we were walking deeper into something holy and forbidden. The carved wood panels, the scent of hibiscus and sea salt… all of it blurred. The only thing I could feel clearly was the steady press of his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. Calming. Possessive.
By the time we reached his suite, my breath was already uneven.
Dom pulled a keycard from his pocket and opened the door with a quiet click. He stepped aside, letting me pass first.
The moment I crossed the threshold, I knew.
I was in trouble.
The suite was all dark woods and cool stone floors, soaked in low, golden light. Masculine. Sophisticated. Too perfect. The kind of place a man like him belonged.
It smelled like expensive cologne, aged whiskey, and something warm and clean that had to be uniquely him.
A balcony wrapped around the far side, floor-to-ceiling glass opening to an endless black ocean, moonlight glittering off the waves.
But none of it mattered.
Not the view. Not the room. Not the fact that I was standing in the kind of place most people only saw in magazines.
Because Dom’s eyes were locked on mine like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing.
And just like that, every ounce of doubt melted off my skin.
I was already his.
The door clicked shut with a nudge of his foot, and in the next second, his hand curled around the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss that melted every ounce of hesitation.
Electric. Heady. Hungry.
The kind of kiss that made me forget my name and remember every inch of my skin.
His hand slid down my back, gripping my ass in a possessive squeeze that left me breathless. I stiffened, a flicker of insecurity cutting through the heat. He’s going to notice… But if he did, it didn’t show. No hesitation, no retreat. Just him claiming me like he couldn’t get enough.
When he tugged my head back, his fingers threading into my hair, I whimpered softly, tilting toward him, dizzy under the weight of his touch.
He finally eased back, and I found myself clinging to his shirt, biting his lower lip like I needed to mark him.
His grin was sin incarnate. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”
“You’ll see,” I whispered, surprising myself.
Clothes came next, a frantic blur of fingers and fabric. I was too caught up in him to stop, but that nagging voice in my head was still there, whispering, What if he notices? What if he changes his mind when he sees you naked?
But Dom didn’t falter.
When I stood bare before him, vulnerable and exposed, he stepped back like he needed a second just to take it all in. The air shifted. The heat in his gaze deepened into something almost feral.
His slow, reverent stare dragged over my curves like he was savoring every soft inch of me. His wolfish smile stole the breath from my lungs.
“My apologies, Ella.”
My heart stuttered. For a heartbeat, panic gripped me. Regret? Pity? “Apologies?” I rasped.
His voice dropped to a dark, delicious growl. “I’m going to ruin this beautiful body tonight.” His tongue slid across his lower lip as his eyes darkened. “And I’m afraid you definitely won’t be walking straight tomorrow… so I thought I should apologize ahead of time.”
Dom peeled off the rest of his clothes, and I swear my breath caught somewhere in my chest.
He was… magnificent. All hard planes and honed muscle, carved like he spent his free time bending steel with his bare hands. His chest was broad and dusted with dark hair streaked with specks of gray—subtle but impossible to miss. A reminder that he was older, more experienced, and somehow twice as devastating because of it. His abs were tight, his body powerful and disciplined, like he knew exactly how to use every inch of it.
My gaze dropped, and heat pulsed through me.
Jesus.
His cock stood thick and heavy between his thighs, impossibly big, and straining like he’d been aching for this as long as I had. Veined, flushed, and undeniably intimidating—but every instinct in me screamed yes.
And his hands… God, those hands. Big, strong, masculine. The kind that could easily pin me down and make me feel small, yet steady enough to trace every inch of me like I was something precious.
I couldn’t help but wonder—what does a man with hands like that do for a living? And more pressingly, what is he about to do to me with them?
The thought alone sent a rush of heat straight to where I needed him most.
He launched at me—all muscle, heat, and rough hands—gripping, touching, biting, until he backed me onto the bed. I landed on my ass and elbows, breathless. Looking up at him from beneath, everything about him made my pulse stutter. That body. That cock. The dark, hungry gleam in his eyes that promised I wasn’t leaving this bed the same woman who walked in.
He caged me in with his arms, his powerful frame towering above mine as my legs dangled helplessly over the edge of the bed. He didn’t settle on top of me right away, and at first, confusion fluttered beneath my ribcage.
Then it clicked—he was holding back. Careful, measured. Like he didn’t want to crush me, like I was delicate.
But I wasn’t delicate. I was burning up inside.
That won’t do.
I needed him just as wild as I felt.
Dom dipped lower, hovering just over my lips. His breath fanned against me, his voice dark velvet. “Last chance to say no.”
My heart thundered. I wanted him to take everything. “I never back down.”
A slow, knowing grin. “Neither do I.”
The first kiss wasn’t sweet. It was claiming. His mouth on my chin, down my throat, tracing my collarbone like he was memorizing me with his tongue. One strong hand slid from my shoulder to my breast, and instead of groping, his touch ghosted across my skin like silk. Barely there, yet more intoxicating than anything bold.
I squirmed beneath him, arching into every whisper of touch, desperate for more friction. He chuckled against my belly. “You’re a needy thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimpered, hating how empty I felt without his full weight on me.
“Good.” His approval slid into me like another caress.
When he finally spread me wide open, his hands—those strong, capable hands—molded to my hips and thighs with reverence. “So soft,” he murmured, almost to himself, like he’d found his favorite thing and couldn’t believe his luck.
A sharp gasp escaped me as his fingers teased the outer edge of me, coaxing out every shiver until my entire body clenched and released under his care. Then, without warning, his mouth was on me—licking, tasting, owning. His tongue and fingers worked in sync, and when he hooked a thick finger inside and stroked just the right spot, I forgot how to breathe.
The orgasm came hard and fast, wiping away every scrap of self-doubt until I was boneless beneath him.
Dom didn’t stop. He growled against me, low and sinful, like he needed this as much as I did, dragging me right into another orgasm that shattered me even harder. When he bit the inside of my thigh, marking me, a strangled cry broke from my throat.
His gaze locked on mine, wild and ravenous.
Dom slid up my body and dragged me up the bed with him, his cock—thick and burning hot—pinning me down as I wrapped my legs around his waist. His lips were glossy with my release, and when he kissed me, I tasted myself on his tongue.
He pressed his forehead to mine, voice rough and sure. “You’re mine now—your mouth, your body, every filthy little sound.”
I smiled, breathless. “Prove it.”
His answering bite to my bottom lip made me whimper, and then he was inside me with a single, savage thrust that had me crying out into his mouth.
He swallowed every sound as he built a rhythm, fucking me deep and steady, each stroke carving pleasure into me like a brand.
I’d never been taken like this—consumed whole.
I’d forgotten what it was to surrender, or maybe I’d never been given the chance.
Dom gave it to me.
He took control, hooking my thigh and spreading me wider, his cock slamming deeper, dragging me up into another climax that burst like lightning across my skin.
“Look at me,” he demanded, voice thick with dominance. “Give it to me.”
And I did. I shattered beneath him, eyes locked on his as he milked every last aftershock from my trembling body.
But he wasn’t done.
Dom flipped me onto his lap, facing him. His hands—huge and commanding—gripped my ass, lifting and driving me down onto his cock with brutal efficiency. His hips snapped up, filling me impossibly deep, forcing me to clutch at his shoulders like I might fall apart.
I never would. Not with those hands holding me steady.
He wouldn’t let me.
My cries turned raw as he bounced me harder, faster, until another orgasm coiled tight inside me and detonated with violent force.
I barely had time to recover before he spun me around, seating me reverse cowgirl on him, legs spread wide, fully exposed. The angle was too much, the pressure perfect.
“I can’t—” I gasped, shaking my head.
“You can,” Dom growled behind me. “You will.”
His hand worked between my thighs, relentless, coaxing pleasure out of me whether I was ready or not.
My orgasm slammed into me like a tidal wave, ripping another scream from my throat.
Dom shifted us again, pulling me to my knees as he pounded me from behind, rough and precise, until my muscles trembled with exhaustion.
Finally, Dom pulled out with a low growl, only to grab me and flip me onto my back like I weighed nothing at all. His strength made my pulse race as I hit the mattress, dazed and breathless, limbs loose with pleasure.
But he didn’t move right away.
He knelt between my spread thighs, looming above me with that dark, possessive glint in his eyes, his chest heaving, his cock standing thick and flushed. The weight of his stare pinned me down harder than his hands ever could.
“Look at you,” he rasped, voice deep with hunger. “Completely wrecked… and still so fucking beautiful.”
Heat roared beneath my skin. I tried to catch my breath, but all I could do was lay there—open, exposed, dripping, and utterly undone. I could feel the tremors still racking my thighs, the wet heat pooling between them, and still, Dom took his time, dragging his gaze over every inch of me like he was memorizing the aftermath of what he’d just done.
He leaned forward, slow and predatory, and pressed his hands to either side of my head, boxing me in. His body radiated heat and power, and I realized just how much control he still held over me. And how much I craved it.
“Ella,” he murmured, his voice like gravel over silk. “I’m not done with you.”
I whimpered beneath him, fully aware of how exposed I was, how thoroughly taken—and still aching for more.
Then, instead of entering me, he reached down, grabbed his cock, and dragged the thick head along my swollen clit.
I gasped, my hips jerking involuntarily, but he pressed me down with one strong hand on my stomach. “No,” he ordered gently, but firmly. “You stay right there and take it.”
His cock slid along me again, slow and teasing, smearing my wetness across his length as he toyed with me, keeping me right on the brink. Over and over, he circled and rubbed against me until my muscles tensed and tears threatened behind my eyes.
I was shaking, desperate, hovering on that knife’s edge between pleasure and madness.
“Dom, please…” I barely recognized my own voice.
He leaned down, his forehead brushing mine, eyes locked on mine. His lips brushed the corner of my mouth. “Watch me.”
I forced my eyes open, heart pounding as he guided himself lower and—inch by inch—pushed inside.
The stretch was maddening. The slow, deliberate drag of every ridge and vein as he filled me again felt like he was claiming me all over, but this time with intention.
“Good girl,” he whispered against my lips. “Feel how deep I am?”
I moaned, nodding as my body clenched tight around him.
His thrusts deepened, growing rougher, faster, but never losing control. His cock dragged over that sensitive spot inside me with punishing precision, each movement wringing more sounds from my lips.
The pressure was too much, the fullness too deep—and I shattered. The orgasm ripped through me like a shockwave, stealing the air from my lungs as my vision went white-hot. My whole body convulsed beneath him, wrung out and shaking, my muscles locking as if I could break apart under the sheer force of it. It wasn’t just release—it was obliteration. The kind that left me ruined and gasping beneath him.
Dom’s eyes locked onto mine, dark and feral. His grip on my wrists tightened as his pace turned relentless, driving into me like he couldn’t get deep enough. His jaw clenched, sweat beading along his temples, and that familiar, animalistic growl rumbled low in his chest.
I could feel the tension coiling inside him, sharp and electric, his whole body straining as he fought to hold back.
“Dom…” I breathed, helpless beneath him, completely pinned and undone.
His gaze flickered down to where our bodies joined, watching himself disappear inside me over and over. “Fuck, Ella,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”
He drove harder, faster, until I felt the sudden swell of him inside me—the undeniable telltale sign that he was about to lose it. His rhythm faltered for a split second, then sharpened, desperate and hungry.
“Mine,” he growled, voice hoarse and raw. “This body is fucking mine.”
With one final, brutal thrust, Dom buried himself to the hilt, hips grinding against me as his entire body tensed. His breath ripped from his lungs in a guttural groan, deep and savage.
I felt the heat of him flood inside me as he pulsed, coming hard, filling me as he shuddered through his release. His forehead dropped to mine, his weight settling just enough to make me feel fully, deliciously caged beneath him.
His breath was ragged against my lips, but he didn’t move—not right away. Instead, he stayed buried inside me, still holding my wrists, as if he needed the anchor of my body to ride out the storm of his orgasm.
And when he finally opened his eyes, that dark, wild gaze softened just enough to steal what was left of my breath.
