Page 48 of Destined By Dragonblood
His club.
Master Vanni.
He might be an admired Dominant, but not nearly enough dragonblood flowed through his veins for my liking.
Our destiny.
I clenched my eyes shut as my dragon cackled in glee.
Chapter 14
Ashley
The locker room door shut silently behind me, erasing Dolyn’s presence from my skin.
My hands shook as I tore off the robe, my mind at war with my body.
I’d been aware the second he’d spotted me bent over the bench, and reborn arousal had caused my core to clench in need.
Master Vanni had been the first man to touch me in over twelve years. The first to give me a climax through pure pleasure alone. I’d wished to linger in the bliss of another step toward healing, but Dolyn had attacked him.
My stomach knotted, bile bubbling up my throat at the memory of his fist connecting with Vanni’s face. Swallowing a few times kept me from vomiting, but the nausea remained as I struggled to dress in my work clothes.
Seeing the two men alongside each other, touching even in anger, the stare that had latched them together immediately after they’d tumbled to the floor, had my instincts insisting I slither between them.
I’d burned with desire to have one of them—both of them—buried deep inside my body.
But Dolyn’s brutality toward Vanni meant to instill pain without pleasure had also put me on edge.
Vanni had called him by name, but I wasn’t about to question their connection when every patron stared at us.
I’d chosen to re-robe and had put distance between us, saving my questions for later. Fleeing the lounge hadn’t been enough space to stop the conflict battling in both parts of me.
I grabbed my bag and hurried to the door leading into the club’s reception area but paused before touching the handle.
Had the bouncers dragged Dolyn out there? Did Vanni wait along with them to check on me?
Had both men been…playing me?
I shut that thought down as both of their touches gave me assurance they’d done no such thing. Vanni and Dolyn cared for me. Wished to protect me with animal-like inclination. And yet they would battle in anger over who had the right to touch me.
Off-kilter and torn between residual fear from my past and desire I’d never experienced before, I sagged against the wall, unsure of what to do.
A knock sounded from the door leading into the lounge opposite me.
Vanni stuck his head in. “Ashley?” His low tone soothed my heightened nerves and relit the heat in my core.
A hint of dried blood smeared over Vanni’s cheekbone, the beginnings of a bruise already discoloring his usual olive complexion. Other than that, he appeared to be fine as he stepped fully into the locker room.
I glanced beyond him but couldn’t make out much of the lounge behind him before the door shut quietly, leaving us alone.
“He’s being held in my office,” Vanni informed me, as though he’d read the question in my mind. He crossed the locker room, and energy snapped between us, familiar and yet different—more intense, as though our intimate contact had somehow brought us closer together.
I’d clearly read too many fairytales.
He peered down at me, his dark brow furrowed.
I gently touched his bruise, my hand still shaking. He held his breath as warmth crept up my arm from the physical contact between us. “Are you all right?”
