Page 98 of The Beautiful Dead

Thick ropes of cum splattered across my chest, my entire body seizing, locked tight in an inescapable pleasure-ridden agony.

Domino didn’t stop.

He fucked me through it, into it, past it— tearing every last aftershock from my wrecked body until the pleasure was too much, too sharp, too consuming.

Darkness rushed in at the edges of my vision, the world spinning away as my body finally gave out.

The last thing I felt was Domino’s hands gripping me, holding me down, refusing to let me go.

And I let him; I always would because this was ours.

Because Domino DeMarco would kill for me, and I would die for him, knowing he’d never love anyone else.

Because without him, nothing else mattered.

Ghost’s voice cut through my orgasmic haze like a knife through my ribs. “There’s a problem with the books.”

I pushed myself up from the mattress, limbs heavy, sore, ruined. Domino’s arm was still slung over me, his breathing even now, the demons inside him temporarily tamed.

Ghost stood in the doorway, expression unreadable, arms folded across his chest. “Brock’s been skimming. Alot.”

“Brock?” I croaked in confusion.

“Yes.” Ghost rolled his eyes. “Your cousin wasn’t happy being under your aunt’s thumb, so he begged Federico to let him play with the big boys?—”

The sound of a blade whistled through the air before embedding itself in the door frame right next to Ghost’s head.

“Fucking hell.” He froze, eyes going wide as the color drained from his face.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Domino growled from behind me. “You ever look in his direction again… I’ll pluck your eyeballs from your head and give them to him as a gift.”

Domino’s voice was like ice crystallizing on my skin. His heated breath against my nape made me shiver as he wrapped a possessive arm around my waist and pulled my body back against his. His possessiveness had a smile flickering at the corner of my lips.

Ghost snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fuck, alright man. Just get out here… soon.” The door slammed shut behind him.

“Stupid fucking prick,” Domino growled. He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my head to his, and sealed our lips together in a scorching kiss.

Panting for breath, I pulled back and licked the heady taste of him from my lips. “So tell me about my cousin?”

Apparently,Brock thought he was untouchable. He thought being Brielle’s son and her little situationship with Federico meant he could fuck around with the big guns and never find out while pulling one over on his mother. To him, it was a win-win kind of setup, but reality had a way of teaching lessons.

We were about to prove him wrong. The bigger they were, the harder they fell, and I was going to enjoy every second of it.

We found him holed up in a house Brielle didn’t even know existed—a little hidden escape where he played king in the shadows. A place that smelled of expensive whiskey and entitlement.

He thought he was safe there. Untouchable. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

It hadn’t been hard to get the location from his on-again, off-again squeeze—especially after he fucked her best friend while she was passed out in the bed next to them. Only to wake up and find them lost in the moment.

When Brock opened the door, Domino’s boot slammed into his chest, shattering that illusion.

Brock barely had time to breathe before Domino unleashed his fury. Fists of iron slammed into his face over and over until the smug superiority bled from his eyes, leaving behind only fear.

I stood back and let it happen, wondering if I should have brought popcorn. Some lessons had to be taught with blood. Not that I thought even that would get through Brock’s thick skull.

Some people were beyond learning.

By the time Domino had him tied up and stuffed in the trunk of his SUV, Brock was barely conscious. Blood dribbled down his chin and pooled in his lap.

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