Page 69 of Dominant

Epilogue

Jordan

I had my arms wrapped around Mark’s neck, my face pressed against his chest. His skin felt sweaty against my cheek but I barely noticed.

Mouth slack, I was breathing heavily, clinging to him as behind me, Alexander worked his cock in and out of my asshole.

Mark had come already, pulling out and jerking off against my stomach with a cry.

I was gasping for air, completely lost to ecstasy. The feel of both of them inside me at once had been almost transcendental.

“You’re mine,” Alexander growled in my ear. “You’re fucking mine. I’m the one who’s going to fill you up. You’re mine.”

I cried out as he thrust hard into me, his large cock stretching my asshole open, and I reached my face up towards Mark, kissing him as Alexander’s movements made me squeeze down powerfully and release. With panting breaths, I kissed him hungrily as I came. Alexander gave a sudden grunting cry and squeezed my hips, pulsing his cock into me again and coming. I felt his wetness flood into me.

I was suspended between them, kissing Mark while Alexander leaned his forehead against my back, catching his breath. I didn’t want it to end. I lowered my cheek back onto Mark’s chest and gave a shuddering sigh as Alexander pulled out.

We were on our way to my parents’ annual Christmas party - or, we were supposed to be, except that when I’d come out in my dress, Alexander and Mark, who were sitting on the couch in the penthouse playing video games while they waited for me, had agreed that I looked too fuckable to go out without first getting fucked… and one thing had led to another.

Now we were late, and Jennifer was going to be a total bitch about it.

I walked to the bathroom to clean up and pulled my dress, which was bunched around my waist like a belt, back up over my shoulders and down over my ass. Since I’d moved into Alexander’s penthouse six months ago, it was much easier to pull myself together when needed, I reflected to myself, as I pulled my makeup box out from under the sink and fixed my mascara.

During the week I tended to stay up at the chateau, running the day-to-day operations of the winery, and Alexander spent most of the week with me, managing the club and running Abbott Holdings remotely. Since I’d taken on the CEO role at Chateau Andilet, I was no longer working as his accountant, although I was able to step in on special projects, such as filing the club’s taxes.

On the weekends, I enjoyed being at the penthouse and taking part in city activities. Fancy restaurants with Alexander, cheap bars with my friends, and often a combination of the two. Even though he was so much older and more accomplished than anyone in my social circle, my friends loved Alexander, who could be silly and fun, and, perhaps more importantly, was always generous. When I could convince him to come out to the bar, he always picked up the tab for everyone.

My mascara fixed, I joined Alexander and Mark in the foyer and we headed down to the car. My parents’ party this year was at their house. It wasn’t as large as the chateau, but they’d been cheerfully telling everyone that next year the party would be in Italy.

After a brief foray into the cannabis business earlier that year had failed, Jennifer and Jonathan had decided they wanted to get back into wine. “Real wine,” they explained. They’d bought a small winery in the south of Italy and were moving in the spring.

I couldn’t say I would miss them, although ironically my relationship with my father had improved since the takeover. It was almost as if, now that I was a CEO, he finally felt we had things to talk about. He actually called occasionally to chat and commiserate about the business, and some of his advice had truly been helpful.

The biggest surprise of all, though, was that they had decided to sell all of their shares to Abbott Holdings. Since the tender offer had expired, they received market value for them, but Alexander issued another tender offer to my stepsisters and they had agreed to sell theirs, too. Chateau Andilet was now wholly owned by Abbott Holdings.

We pulled up to my parents’ large, ranch-style house just outside the city and found parking. All the spots in a three-block radius were already taken by guests to my parents’ party. We parked and Alexander looked over his shoulder at Mark, giving him a look.

“I’ll see you guys in there,” said Mark, opening the door. He knew my parents and sisters from the Chateau Andilet board, and was never one to be nervous about entering a party on his own.

I gave Alexander a funny look, wondering what was up.

“I have a Christmas present for you,” he said, smiling mischievously. “I just got it finished today and I wanted to give it to you before we went in there.”

“Okay,” I said, nervous and excited. Was it an engagement ring? I wondered.

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out an envelope. A red ribbon was tied around it.

Not a ring, then.

I took the envelope, looking at him wonderingly, while he continued to give me that self-satisfied half-smile.

Whatever it was, he was proud of it.

I slid a finger under the fold and tore it open, pulling out a thick legal document.

At the top it read:

Land Title Registry

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