Page 26 of Corrupting Lily

She sighs with relief, her hands tightening on my shoulders in a possessive way that feels both raw and sexy. It's undeniably seductive in its innocence.

“Lily? Lily Valentine? Is that you?” Lily stiffens at the unfamiliar male voice and then trembles.

The difference between her acting out of passion and fear is clear to me, even in the short time I've known her. This one stems from fear.

I was beginning to realize, especially in this moment, that I greatly preferred seeing passion, lust, and joy in her eyes—created by me, no one else. I also understood that I didn’t want to share that power.

No. I wanted to destroy anyone capable of that or any other emotion, leaving only me.

Me, making her smile.

Me, making her laugh.

Me, making her scream out in ecstasy.

Me. Just me.

Chapter 17

Lily

The voice is unfamiliar to me, but anyone who knows my full name poses a risk.

Dominico senses the fear, and his hand that was deliciously squeezing my ass is now comfortingly stroking my back. His eyes remain locked with mine, even as he speaks.

“And you are?” I remain stiff in his arms, eagerly anticipating this intruder's answer to Dominico's question. His tone carries irritation, intertwined with other emotions I cannot decipher as his gaze explores my face, absorbing every morsel of reaction I allow to surface.

“Dominico, there you are, starting the party without us, I see,” another man interrupts, leaving the question to the man who knows my name unanswered.

Dominico’s gaze finally shifts from me as he looks behind us.

“Emilio, good to see you. But you should warn your associates that I do not tolerate unanswered questions.”

I still haven't turned around, my eyes glued instead to the man whohas wrapped his arm around me protectively.

“Ahh, Don, no insult intended. This is Senator John Underwood, one of the top three candidates running for the next vice presidential election.” Fuck. I had met this man briefly on two occasions—two occasions I would rather forget, as his inappropriate behavior toward me and his inability to keep his hands to himself resulted in two of the most severe beatings of my life. I shiver just thinking about it and shut my eyes, trying to prevent the tears that I can feel prickling at the back of my eyes from falling.

“Did you like his hands on you, little whore?”Memories pop up, filling my mind with little snippets of what followed. Blood. Broken bones. Punishment. For something I didn’t do when I tried tellinghimthat this disgusting man came onto me. That it was his fault.

I truly hated that men believed they had the right to touch me as if I were property to be passed around.

“Nero, take our guests to the red room. We will be there shortly.” I’m so lost in my thoughts that I only realize we are alone when Dominico touches my cheek.

“Who is he to you?”

His question lingers in the air. How could I answer Dominico without revealing everything that had happened to me? He was aware of my situation, but I still wasn't sure how much he truly knew.

“Someone connected to my past and to unpleasant memories,” I respond, silently pleading that he does not ask for more.

After staring at me for a long time, he grunts. With me still sitting on him, he stands and gently lowers me so my feet can meet the ground. My body is pressed close, his desire digging into my abdomen. My core clenches in response, the heat and lust that had faded fanning into flames as his hand slides down my back and over my ass.

His other hand holds my chin gently, directing my face sothat I am compelled to meet his gaze without the option to look away.

“One day, you will tell me everything.” His silver-grey eyes scan my face, and then he lowers his head, his lips brushing mine briefly, like a whisper. Damn. I long to know how his lips would feel on mine—fully and completely devouring me. But the moment is fleeting as he releases my chin, causing my eyes to fly open. We then move toward a door guarded by two of Dominico’s men at the rear of the VIP area. Dominico keeps physical contact with me, his large, strong hand resting on my lower back, where it stays as we walk down a long corridor.

We approach a large room, its red lighting and music hinting at what lies beyond. Sensual music accompanies alluring movements as women dance throughout the space, either on poles on small stages surrounded by chairs or on the laps of men who caress them and gaze at them with unrestrained desire.

My eyes flare when I spot a couple actually fucking, out here in public. Roughly. After everything I have been through, I should want it gentle. Careful. But no. Thoughts of Dominico handling me like a porcelain doll as he fucks me is not what turns me on. I want him driving into me forcefully. Hard. Deep. With his hand around my neck. My core clenches deliciously at the visual, and I glance up to see that Dominico is already looking at me.

---