Page 77 of Until You Break

I can’t respond. Words are impossible, torn from me with every thrust, every delicious, agonizing inch he gives me. But my nails dig into his back, my body arching into his, and that’s answer enough.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice rough. “Say who owns you, Aria.”

“You!” I scream. “Always you!”

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, my body meeting him with every thrust.

The tension builds, coiling tight in my stomach, and I know I’m close, the pleasure cresting like a wave that’s about to break.

“Let go,” he murmurs, his voice soft but commanding. “I’ve got you, baby. Just let go.”

His movements quicken, his control slipping, as he shifts his grip, his hand sliding down my body, his thumb finding the bundle of nerves at my core, and I shatter, crying out as the world blurs and he drives me through the storm.

He swallows my cries with a kiss, his tongue sliding against mine as he drives me higher, his pace relentless. Dominic doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter, chasing his own release like a man possessed. And when he finally finds it, spilling himself inside me with a raw, guttural sound, he collapses.

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing, our bodies tangled and spent. Then, he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine, softer now but no less intense.

“You’re not running again,” he murmurs, his voice soft and laced with exhaustion. “You’re not just mine. You’re my fucking religion. And I’ll worship you, even if it kills me.”

I nod, my fingers brushing against his hair as I whisper, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter forty-nine

Her Ruin

The water ripples softlyas I trail the washcloth down her arm, her skin still flushed and marked from where my hands and mouth claimed her.

Her head rests against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each steady breath. I can see the faintest hint of a smile on her lips, and it pulls something tight in my chest.

I shift slightly, running the cloth over her shoulder, watching as her body relaxes under my touch. I was rough with her—too rough, maybe. But fuck if she didn’t take it, didn’t ask for it, didn’t fucking love it.

Five years of waiting and not touching another will do that to a man.

I wanted her to feel me, to know I was there in every ache and every mark I left behind. I want her to carry me on her skin long after the night ends.

But now? Now I bring her back down. Now I take care of what’s mine.

“You’re smiling,” I murmur, my voice cutting through the quiet. “What’s that about?”

She opens one eye, peeking up at me with a lazy smirk. “Just thinking,” she says softly, her voice drowsy, like she’s halfway between awake and asleep.

“Yeah?” I ask, dipping the washcloth into the water and wringing it out. “About what?”

Her smirk grows, and she lets out a soft sigh. “You’re so rough with me,” she says, her tone teasing but laced with warmth. “But then afterward… this.” She gestures weakly to the bath, to the way I’m carefully tending to her like she’s made of glass. “Why is that?”

I pause, my hands stilling for a moment as I look down at her. Her question isn’t accusatory; it’s curious, like she’s trying to piece together something that doesn’t quite make sense. I take a breath, my fingers brushing over the marks on her thigh, the ones I left there, before answering.

“Because I have to,” I start. “I have to bring you back down, baby. Can’t leave you floating, all high and untethered, just to crash by yourself later. That’s not how this works.”

Her brow furrows slightly, but she doesn’t say anything, just watches me as I trail the cloth over her collarbone, over the faint marks where my teeth pressed into her skin.

“Floating?” she echoes, her brow furrowing slightly.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the edge of the tub as I look her in the eye.

“Yeah, floating,” I say, my voice softer. “That high you get when you give me everything, when I take it all. It’s fucking intoxicating, isn’t it? But it doesn’t last. If I don’t bring you back down, if I don’t ground you, you’ll come crashing down on your own. And I don’t let what’s mine fall apart.”

“Like last time?” She tilts her head, watching me, her gaze searching, as if she’s trying to make sense of the contrastbetween the man who pinned her down and the one carefully washing her now.

---