Page 32 of Monster
“Dom,” I snap. He turns his head to me with a smile, but it doesn’t look like any of the smiles I’ve been seeing every day for the last couple of months. The officer—Boyd—makes a low sound in the back of his throat, almost like a growl, before he turns around and marches from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
“What the fuck was that about?” I ask, nodding my head in the direction of the door.
“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and brings my face closer to his—the tips of our noses touching. His eyes are drawn together with tension and without thinking, I press my lips to his—my first time kissing him since that very first time, months ago—and I swear to fucking God, it feels even more euphoric now than it did then.
He molds his cold lips to mine with no hesitation. I part my own and run my tongue across his bottom lip. He shudders but opens his mouth to me. I suck his plump bottom lip in between my teeth and bite down—hard. He gasps and presses closer to me. I feel his left arm wrapping around my lower back, pulling my body closer to his.
He brings his other arm around and hauls me into his lap so I’m straddling him. The hard ridge of his cock lines up perfectly against my slit and I moan into his mouth. He grips my hips harder, but still surprisingly gentle, and begins to shift me back and forth across his lap. I fist my fingers in his hair and tug as I continue to kiss him, the faint taste of his blood still lingering. Our tongues twist and mold together, as if they both know exactly what to do and what the other likes.
Dom tugs my bottom lip between his teeth and pulls back until it pops free. When I move to bring my mouth back to his, he leans back slightly so I can’t. A sound of frustration escapes my lips, desperate for his touch. He continues to move my hips back and forth across his length and every movement brings me closer to the edge. I try to kiss him again, desperation consuming me, but he shakes his head and dodges my lips to continue staring at my body moving over his.
“Dom,” I whine, my desperation spilling into my tone, but I don’t even care at this point. I want to fucking come, and I want him to kiss me while I do. But he doesn’t answer me, instead he grips my hips harder as he rotates my hips faster over him. My breaths turn into little pants as I feel the familiar tingle building. My clit throbs painfully every time it comes into contact with his hard dick through the thin material of my leggings and his sweatpants don’t do the best job at hiding what’s underneath—which I’m thankful for right now.
I bring my hooded gaze to Dominik and find he’s studying me. His own eyes are hooded, and his lips are slightly parted—until he bites his kiss-swollen bottom lip and I fucking lose it. With one last grind against his cock, I explode. My eyes squeeze shut as I let out a scream, which he quickly quiets by slapping his hand over my mouth. He keeps rotating my hips, dragging my release out as I shudder over him, riding it out. Wave after wave crashes over me until—finally—I slump against him, utterly fucking exhausted but blissed out.
He wraps his arms around me once more and runs his hand up and down over my back, eliciting goosebumps to make their way across my skin. His sweatshirt sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, exposing his forearms and my shirt is halfway up my back, so our contact is skin on skin. And it feelsso. Fucking. Good.
That is until I process what the fuck happened as the high of my orgasm dissipates and embarrassment—and guilt—begins to creep in. I pull away and Dominik lets me, probably sensing my withdrawal. I crawl out of his lap and move to the foot of the bed. I bow my head and stare at the floor as my cheeks heat and tears burn my eyes.
How can I let myself enjoy something like that when my sister is dead? When mybabyis dead.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
His hand on my back compels me to turn my head to the side to peer at him. His brows are drawn together with concern, even more so when he sees my face.
“Hey, what’s wrong, baby girl?” he asks as he runs his thumb across my cheekbone.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out as the tears begin to fall.
“Oh, hell no. No, no, no.” He stands in front of me and grips my waist, hauling me to my feet in front of him. He places his hand against my cheek and rubs his thumb across my skin, but he doesn’t force me to look at him as he speaks.
“No, baby girl. You don’t get to feel sorry about what just happened, do you hear me? That was fuckingamazing.Feeling you come on top of me?Fuck, Essa.I almost came in my pants like a teenage boy.” He grins when I glance up at him and he darts his eyes downward, in-between where our bodies are pressed together, and that’s when realization sets in. He’s still so hard, I can feel the length of him pressing into my belly.
My cheeks burn hotter than before as he subtly rotates his hips. He grips my face as he brings his lips to mine in a brutal kiss—but even with him, brutal is still gentle—and steals my breath away. He pulls back enough to separate our lips, his minty breath mixing with my own. “And the next time you come, it will either be on my fingers or on my fucking tongue, baby girl.” He licks my bottom lip and backs away with a smirk. My pussy clenches at his words and the dull throb resumes.
Oh, I’m so fucked.
