Page 44 of Until You Break

I nod again, feeling the words settle heavy on my heart.Grounded. Safe. Secure.It’s everything Mason offers me, everything I thought I wanted, everything I should want.

But lying here, with his hand resting gently on my cheek, I feel a sharp ache, a longing for something dangerous that I won’t ever find with him.

Chapter thirty-one

His Sinner

Mason is out coldnext to me, his soft snores filling the room. He took his sleeping meds before bed, the ones his doctor prescribed to help with the stress from work. Once they hit, he’s gone; dead to the world until morning.

Normally, it’s a comfort—his steady presence, his calm breathing. But tonight, it’s a reminder of how far I’ve drifted from him, of how wrong everything feels.

I stare at the ceiling, the faint glow from the streetlights outside creeping through the curtains, casting shadows across the room. My mind won’t stop racing, replaying Mason’s words about those women, his casual dismissal of something that felt too much like me.

“Messed up.”

“Unwell.”

He has no idea. No idea that’s exactly what Dominic pulls out of me. That’s what makes me feel alive, makes me feel more myself than I’ve ever been.

And the worst part? It’s not just the past haunting me. It’s now. Every touch, every word, every look—Dominic is still under my skin, a part of me I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try.

I shift onto my side, facing Mason and stare at him for a long moment, trying to summon that connection I used to feel, that warmth and safety. But it’s not there. Not tonight.

Sighing, I roll onto my back again, staring at the ceiling, my chest tight with frustration. I want to scream, to cry, to claw out the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside me. But instead, I just lay there, still, letting the minutes drag on like hours.

And then I see him.

At first, I think it’s a trick of the light, a shadow cast by the lamp on the bedside table. But no, it’s him.

Dominic’s standing at the edge of the room, half in the shadows, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me. His stance is casual, but there’s nothing casual about the way he looks at me, like he’s stripping me down with just his eyes.

My breath catches in my throat, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure it’ll wake Mason. I don’t move, frozen in place, my mind racing. He said he wouldn’t come back unless I call or came to him.

But here he is, like he’s always been, slipping through the cracks, finding his way back to me no matter how hard I try to push him out.

He steps closer to the bed, the floorboards silent under his boots, his movements slow and those green eyes locked on mine. Then he lifts a finger to his lips, a silent command to stay quiet, and my body obeys before my mind can catch up.

I glance at Mason, who hasn’t stirred, still lost in whatever drug-induced haze he’s under. Dominic watches me, his head tilting slightly, that familiar smirk playing on his lips like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And maybe he does.

“Dominic,” I whisper. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps walking, his steps slow like he’s savoring every second of the tension crackling in the air. When he reaches the bed, he crouches down beside me, his face inches from mine.

“Miss me, Little Sinner?” he murmurs, his voice low and taunting and his breath warm against my skin.

I sit up, my hands gripping the edge of the blanket, my mind racing. “You can’t be here,” I hiss, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake Mason. “He’s—he’s right there.”

I stare at him, my breath coming fast, my chest tight with panic and anticipation. “You need to leave, Dominic,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Now. Before he wakes up.”

He chuckles softly, leaning closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “You don’t want that,” he says, his voice a dark, seductive whisper. “If you did, you’d have screamed the second you saw me. But here you are, whispering and trying not to wake him. Like you don’t want to lose this moment.”

My mouth goes dry and I try to defend myself, but the words don’t come, instead Dominic’s smirk fades and it sends a shiver up my spine. “You’ve been thinking about me,” he says, his voice low, rough, like gravel scraping against steel. “I could feel it.”

“I wasn’t—” I start, but the words die in my throat as he leans down, his face inches from mine, his scent—pine and motor oil—wrapping around me like a net.

“Don’t lie to me, sweet girl,” he says, his voice soft but with an edge of a warning in it. “I can see it all over you. You’ve been restless, haven’t you? Lying here, next to him, thinking about me. About what I do to you. About what you need.”

I shake my head, though the lie feels hollow, even to me. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

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