Page 25 of Cruel Dominion

I forced myself to picture the beach, like I always did.

The water.

The navy sky.

The moon.

And her there waiting for me.

When my breathing evened out, I pulled the mess of Paulson’s file from the floor and set it in my lap, flipping to the pictures of her.

The recent ones of her walking around downtown and eating at restaurants. I thought about seeing her again so much that it still felt like a dream. As though my mind was still the only place she existed even though there was proof right in front of me.

Seeing her vibrant and alive almost made me forget the sheer rage I felt learning about the hit on her. I was going to make Josh regret the day he set eyes on my Anna.

I pulled up the computer program that let me access Anna’s phone. Hacking into it had been one of my first orders of business. Her location was in the Vaughn mansion, which comforted me. She should be safe there, with the governor’s intense security system.

Clicking again, I accessed the view of her phone screen, my jaw dropping when I saw my own face staring back at me. My name was in the search bar, and she was scrolling through photos of me. A sick smile spread across my face.

I knew my obsession with her wasn’t one-sided. After all this time, she was still curious. Still just as starved for me as I was for her.

The top results for me were mostly professional headshots and photos from work events, me in a suit giving the camera a closed-mouth smile. But eventually, more candid, casual photos started filtering in. Anna paused longer at the pictures of me with other women, my dates for galas and fundraisers. Their names and faces had long blurred from my memory, but they were all stunningly beautiful and dressed to match my Brioni suits.

Anna scrolled down, pausing at a photo of me shirtless on my yacht. The photo was taken by a photographer with a long lens—I didn’t give the paparazzo permission, but it hadn’t annoyed me enough to force him to take it down.

Anna lingered on that picture for a long time. Minutes seemed to pass. Acting on suspicion, I pressed the tool to give me access to her microphone. The sounds of soft moans and heavy breathing filtered from my speakers. Fuck, I recognized those sounds.

She was touching herself to photos of me.

I groaned aloud, and my cock stiffened instantly in my pants. What I wouldn’t give to be there with her, watching her slender fingers move between her legs. I would have buried my face in her, drowned in the scent of her musk.

Unbuttoning my pants, I wrapped my fist around my cock. My hand was a poor substitute for Anna’s touch, but being able to hear her moaning, knowing she was thinking of me, had me harder than I’d been in years. I stroked myself slowly at first, but as Anna’s breathing quickened, I moved to match her pace.

I ached to press the camera button, but then she’d know. There was no way to access it without the little red light turning on on her end. I had to settle for my own imagination, but with those sounds she was making, it wasn’t hard.

I didn’t bother remembering the sweet, practically chaste way we’d made love the first time as a pair of broken teenagers in the sand. My fantasies now were far darker.

I was going to own every fucking part of her. I’d fuck her mouth, her pussy, and her ass, claiming her so thoroughly that no other man could ever hope to satisfy her. When I got the chance, I would fuck her throat hard enough to make her gag on it. I pictured wrapping my fingers around her long neck and squeezing until she came, harder than ever.

She’d had a taste of that side of me when we were nothing but juvenile delinquents. She liked it when I pinched her nipples and dragged my teeth over her slit. She cried out when I fucked her so hard I left bright red on her ass and thighs from our bodies slapping together.

Anna’s quick, short gasps meant she was close now. I increased my own pace, wanting to come with her, even if she had no idea I was listening. She cried out, a wordless, blissful scream. That was enough to send me over the edge, spilling into my own hand with a hard, teeth bearing groan. My head was full of nothing but her.

There was no better buzz.

No better high.

Her breathing slowed as she came down, the little sounds hitched at first and then evening out.

If she knew the depths of my obsession, the things I wanted to do to her that were far from sweet, would she run for the hills?

I was going to make her mine again. That much I knew.

But just how much of me could my little siren handle?

7

ANNA

---