Page 83 of Until You Break

He smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “Not anymore,” he agrees. “But let’s not pretend you didn’t try last time. You killed a woman because of me, Aria. You think that’s something I’ll just let you walk away from?”

The memory of last night crashes over me—the blood, the knife, the rage I didn’t even know I was capable of. I blanch, my stomach twisting, and Dominic’s smirk widens.

“Forgot about that, didn’t you?” he says, his tone almost teasing. “Don’t worry, Little Sinner. It’s handled.”

I blink at him, my throat dry. “Handled?”

He shrugs, completely unbothered. “The body’s gone. No evidence, no loose ends. My brothers took care of it.”

I stare at him, equal parts horrified and relieved. “You just… had it cleaned it up?”

“What the fuck did you think I was gonna do? Leave her on your doorstep with a note?” He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “You belong to me. That means your problems are my problems. And I don’t leave shit unfinished.”

I bite my lip, my mind spinning. “What about my cabin?” I ask after a moment, needing to latch onto something else, anything else. “Do I just… stay there?”

His smirk fades, replaced by a look of quiet intensity that makes my pulse skip. “You’re moving in here,” he says, his tone brooking no argument.

I blink, caught off guard. “I got the cabin because of you,” I remind him. “To get away from—”

“From me,” he cuts in. “And look how well that fucking worked.”

“And if I don’t move in?” I ask softly, testing the waters, though I already know the answer.

His grin is sharp and dangerous, his hand sliding down to grip the back of my neck. “You will,” he says simply. “Because if you don’t, I’ll burn the fucking place down.”

My breath catches, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Knowing Dominic, he’s probably not. “Jesus,” I mutter, shaking my head. “You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I’m obsessed. There’s a difference.”

He kisses me before I can respond, pulling me under like a riptide. The tension in my body fades and I moan into the kiss. When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless and he smirks down at me like he knows exactly what he’s done.

“So,” he says, his tone lighter now, though the edge of possessiveness remains. “What’s it gonna be, Little Sinner? The cabin, or here with me?”

I sigh, letting my head fall against his chest. “Do I even have a choice?”

His laugh vibrates through me, and he tightens his grip around my waist. “Not really,” he admits. “But it’s cute that you think you do.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll stay.”

“Good girl,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I should feel trapped, suffocated by the weight of his possessiveness. But instead, all I feel is… safe. Safe in a way I haven’t felt in years and I don’t fight it.

Dominic moves, his hand sliding down to rest on my hip, his thumb brushing the tender skin there. “You’re sore,” he says.

I hesitate, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but my body betrays me, a wince slipping out as I move my legs slightly. He notices, of course. He always notices. “Let me fix it.”

I start to protest, but before I can get a word out, Dominic’s already moving. He rolls us over with infuriating ease, pinning me beneath him, his hands bracketing my waist.

His green eyes are alight with something dangerous, something possessive, but there’s a flicker of softness beneath it—a rare glimpse of the man he hides from the rest of the world.

“Dom, I’m fine,” I say, though my voice lacks conviction. My thighs ache, my muscles sore and strained, and even I can’t deny how wrecked I feel.

“You’re not fine,” he counters, then his hand cups my pussy. I let out an involuntary hiss, and his lips twitched into a knowing grin. “See? You ache because of me. Let me make it better.”

Before I can argue, he’s already moving, pressing a soft kiss to my collarbone, then another to the swell of my breast. His lips trail lower, his hands sliding over my thighs, spreading them with deliberate slowness.

The ache between my legs flares, and I suck in a sharp breath as his mouth follows the path of his hands. “Dom, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he cuts me off, his voice firm as he glances up at me. “And you’re going to let me.”

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