Page 83 of The Hermit

She lifts her hand to my face and trails her fingers over my temple and down to my jaw. “Always a man of your word.”

I push my body off of hers and move into a kneeling position between her legs. I stare at my release coating her pussy and feel so fucking possessive a growl rumbles from me.

“You wear my cum well,moja žena.”

“Jesus, Dominik,” she chuckles while sitting up.

When she climbs off the bed, my eyes follow her all the way to the bathroom before I get off as well.

Knowing it’s a trigger for her, I give her a warning, “I’m going to hold you from behind.”

She glances over her shoulder and watches as I wrap my arms around her, locking hers at her sides. Pulling her back against my chest, I watch her reaction closely.

There’s no panic attack, and instead, she says, “I trust you.”

A smile spreads over my face, and turning her around in my arms, I hold her tightly as I say, “Thank you, Grace. That means a lot to me.”

Chapter 22

GRACE

Standing out on the veranda, I watch as the sun sets over the lake.

I’ll never grow tired of this view.

It’s been three weeks since Dominik and I made love for the first time, and my feelings have steadily kept growing.

I think I love him.

We’re so secluded up here in the mountains, living in our own little bubble, I’ve never been more happy in my life.

There are times I forget Dominik is anything other than my hermit.

The wind sweeps my hair away from my face, and wrapping my arms around myself, I rub some warmth into my biceps.

I feel the air shift, and the corner of my mouth lifts.

Dominik’s arms wrap around me, and I lean back against his chest.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.”

I enjoy the feel of my husband behind me, and thinking he has single-handedly healed me from the trauma Braden inflicted on me, I begin to feel emotional.

He performed a miracle in my life and gave me so much to be thankful for.

Suddenly, the sound of his phone ringing fills the air.

Not wanting him to answer the call, I let out a groan, “Ignore it.”

“I can’t,milácik.” He pulls away from me, and digging the phone out of his cargo pants, he taps on the screen to answer, “Varga speaking.”

When the expression on his face darkens until he looks downright murderous, my stomach sinks.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Lay low.”

He ends the call, and before I can ask what happened, he sends a voice message to Evinka, “Bring the private jet. We need to get our asses to Peru. We were attacked, and the bratva took over the factory in Puerto De Lomas. Bring extra weapons.”

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