Page 113 of Savage Don's Captive

And I remember how he looked when it was over. Standing there among all those old-school gangsters, blood dripping from his palm, like he was made for this shit. Not just another crime boss.Theboss.

And the craziest part?

Those same hands that swore some ancient blood oath an hour ago were holding my hair back while I puked my guts out twenty minutes later.

I exhale, breaking the silence. “You know… I was thinking.”

Dominic lets out a dramatic groan, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Christ. Should I be worried?”

I roll my eyes, but let the warmth of his lips linger.

“I didn’t get to say it back.” His words when we went to confront Marco still lingered in my mind until now.

His eyes darken, something unreadable swirling beneath the surface. “You don’t have to, Alessa. You don’t owe me that. Just know that I’ll do everything—everything—to protect you and our kid.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” I whisper, turning to face him fully, wanting—needing—him to see the truth in my eyes. “But I want to say it. And I know this isn’t the most ideal place to—”

“Say it,” he rasps. Low. Rough. Desperate. “I need to hear it.”

My heart pounds. My throat tightens. But I don’t hesitate.

“I love you, Dominic.”

His pupils dilate. His grip tightens on my thigh. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His mouth crashes into mine, swallowing the words like he’ll never hear them again. Like he’ll burn the world down to make sure I never stop saying them.

I don’t wait—I kiss him. Hard.

“I love you.”

Another kiss. Deeper this time.

“I fucking love you, Dominic.”

A sharp exhale leaves his lips before he crashes his mouth to mine, his hands gripping me tight like he’s afraid I’ll slip away. He lifts me effortlessly, placing me on the counter, his body pressing between my thighs. His mouth is hungry, demanding, claiming me with each stroke of his tongue.

“Say it again,” he growls against my neck, his teeth penetrating my skin.

“I love you,” I gasp as his hands slide up my thighs, bunching my dress around my waist. The cool marble against my heated skin makes me shiver—or maybe it’s the way his fingers hook into the band of my lace underwear, tugging impatiently.

“Mine,” he rasps, his breath hot against my ear as he rips the delicate fabric clean off my body. The sound of tearing lace echoes off the walls, a primal declaration of his need.

I should be embarrassed—we’re in a public bathroom at his Making Ceremony, for God’s sake—but the look in his eyes, that feral possession mixed with absolute devotion, makes me forget everything but him. My hands fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him.

“Dominic, please,” I whimper as his fingers find me—already wet, ready for him. He groans, a sound that reverberates through my entire body

“Look at you,” he says, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect.”

His fingers work magic, circling, teasing, dipping inside just enough to make me chase his touch. My head falls back againstthe mirror, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure builds, coiling tight in my core.

“Look at me Alessandra,” he demands, his fingers gripping my jaw. “I want to see your face when you come.”

I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze as his thumb works me, making everything go fuzzy. My hips buck against his hand like I’ve got no control over my own body.

“Fuck, Dom,” I gasp, my nails digging half-moons into his shoulders as everything tightens, then shatters. Wave after wave hits me, and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood—trying not to scream and let everyone at this friggin ceremony know exactly what their newest member’s doing in the bathroom.

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