Raven's Point of View
My body was still trembling, still pulsing from the way he had just fucked me slow and deep, leaving me breathless, my skin hot, my legs weak. But even as I laid there, wrapped in his arms, my heart still racing, I felt it-him.
Still hard.
Still needing me.
I lifted my head, my lips brushing against his jaw as I peered down at him. His dark eyes were half-lidded, his face still flushed, his body tense beneath me. I shifted slightly, feeling the thickness of him pressing against my thigh, and something wicked curled in my stomach.
I wanted him again.
I needed him again.
Without a word, I slid my leg over him, straddling his waist. His hands immediately found my hips, his grip tight, his gaze darkening as I sank down, feeling the heat of him pressing against me.
"Baby," he warned, his voice already rough, already wrecked.
But I didn't stop.
I reached between us, wrapping my fingers around his thick, aching cock, lining him up with my entrance before slowly sinking down onto him.
And fuck.
Dominic lost it.
A guttural groan ripped from his throat, his hands flying to my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh so tight I was sure I'd have bruises tomorrow. His head fell back against the pillows, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his entire body tensing beneath me.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice breaking. "You-shit-"
His reaction sent a wave of heat through me, making me even wetter, even more desperate. I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling the way his muscles flexed under my touch as I slowly rolled my hips, adjusting to the way he stretched me so perfectly, so deeply.
His fingers gripped me tighter, guiding me, controlling me even as I was the one riding him.
"You're gonna fucking kill me," he rasped, his voice wrecked, his eyes glazed with pure lust as he looked up at me.
I gasped as he suddenly lifted his hips, thrusting into me from below, sending a shockwave of pleasure through my entire body. My hands scrambled against his chest, my nails digging into his skin as I tried to keep up, tried to match his movements.
He squeezed my ass, gripping me so hard I whimpered, guiding me faster, making me take him deeper.
"Fuck, Dominic," I moaned, my voice breaking as my head fell back.
"Look at me," he growled, his voice strained.
I forced my head up, meeting his gaze, and god, the way he was looking at me-like he was completely ruined, like he was mine-made my whole body tighten around him.
"Shit, baby, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips, rolling me against him, making me moan.
I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his, swallowing his groans, his moans, his wrecked sounds as I rode him, my body taking him deeper, harder, my walls clenching around him so tight.
His hands gripped my ass, squeezing, spreading me wider as he met every movement with his own thrusts, his cock stretching me so perfectly I could barely breathe.
"Fuck, baby, you're gonna make me-"
His words broke into a deep groan as I clenched around him, my body already on the verge of breaking. I could feel it, the pressure, the heat, the overwhelming pleasure building and building and building-
Until I shattered.
I cried out his name as I came, my whole body shaking, my walls pulsing around him, dragging him over the edge with me. His grip tightened, his movements turning desperate, rough, as he groaned deep in his throat, his body tensing as he came inside me, filling me, owning me.
I collapsed against his chest, breathing hard, my whole body still trembling.
His arms wrapped around me, his lips pressing against my temple as he let out a ragged breath, his heart pounding beneath my cheek.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he rasped, his voice hoarse. "You're gonna be the death of me, baby."
I smiled against his skin, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.
Maybe I would be.
But if this was how we went, I wouldn't complain.
The rain started again, soft at first, then heavier, tapping against the skylight above us. The room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the city lights outside, casting faint shadows over Dominic's sharp features.
I lay on top of him, my body molded against his like I belonged there. My ear was pressed against his broad chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths, the strong, rhythmic beat of his heart.
He was warm-so warm it made my body melt into his, my skin tingling where we touched.
His fingers traced slow, lazy circles on my back, barely there, but enough to send shivers down my spine.
Outside, the rain poured, hammering against the glass, the sound wrapping around us like a lullaby. The air smelled fresh, a mix of rain and the lingering scent of him-smoky, musky, utterly intoxicating.
I sighed, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, my fingers dragging lightly down his sides. "It's raining again," I murmured.
He hummed in response, his deep voice rumbling through his chest, vibrating against my cheek. "Yeah."
I tilted my head up, my chin resting on his sternum as I looked at him. His dark eyes were already on me, half-lidded, heavy, like he never really stopped watching me. Like he never let me go, even when I tried to pull away.
"You like the rain?" he asked, his voice husky, sleep-heavy.
I nodded. "It makes everything feel... safe. Like we're the only ones in the world."
His fingers slid into my hair, slow and possessive, tucking a strand behind my ear. His touch lingered there, like he needed to feel me.
"You feel safe with me?"
The question hit harder than it should've.
My throat tightened.
For two weeks, I'd tried to stay away from him. Tried to be professional at work. His presence that somehow still lingered everywhere I went.
Because he was married.
Because I knew better.
Because I was supposed to be stronger than this.
But Dominic wasn't something you could just walk away from.
He was like a shadow that clung to your heels. Like a mosquito that kept coming back no matter how many times you swatted it away. Persistent. Relentless. Unavoidable.
And the worst part?
I didn't want him to stop.
I swallowed, my fingers curling slightly against his chest. Instead of pulling away, I leaned closer, pressing myself more fully against him, listening to the steady, powerful beat of his heart beneath my ear.
It was terrifying how natural it felt.
How normal.
How much I felt like myself when I was with him.
"Yes," I whispered finally. "I do."
His chest rose slowly beneath me.
Something dark flickered in his eyes. Not weakness. Not relief.
Satisfaction.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips, subtle but unmistakable. Like he'd won something. Like he already knew the answer before I gave it.
I knew who he was.
I knew what he'd done.
I knew I should've kept pushing him away.
But he kept coming back.
And I kept letting him.
Right now, with the rain falling outside and his arms wrapped around me like I belonged there, he wasn't the man the world feared.
He was the man who ruined me.
The man I couldn't escape.
The man I was already losing myself to.
He was just Dominic.
My Dominic.
His hand moved lower, resting against the curve of my hip, squeezing gently, like he needed to feel me there. Like he needed proof I was still real. Still his.
His lips twitched faintly, but there was no amusement in it.
His eyes darkened.
His jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle feather beneath his skin.
God.
He looked terrified.
Terrified in a way that didn't make him look weak-but dangerous. Beautiful. Devastating.
Like a man standing on the edge of losing something he never thought he'd have in the first place.
"You shouldn't," he muttered, his voice rougher now. Quieter. "I'm not a good man, baby."
The words weren't a warning.
They were a confession.
And I realized, in that moment, he was waiting.
Waiting for me to pull away.
Waiting for me to come to my senses.
Waiting for me to leave.
Like everyone else probably had.
Like he expected me to.
My chest tightened at the thought.
Slowly, hesitantly, I lifted my hand and touched his face.
He froze.
Completely still.
My fingers brushed along his jaw, up to his cheek, and I felt it-the tension, the fear he was trying so hard to hide.
His breath hitched.
His eyes closed.
And he leaned into my touch.
Not like a powerful man.
Not like a feared man.
But like a man who had never been held gently before.
Like a man who didn't realize how much he needed it.
My thumb brushed softly along his cheekbone, and his breathing grew heavier, like he didn't realize how badly he needed this.
I swallowed.
But I didn't pull away.
My hand stayed on his face.
Stayed holding him there.
"Maybe not," I whispered.
His jaw tightened under my palm.
His eyes opened slowly, uncertainty flickering in them.
And with my hand still cradling his face, I said it.
"You're mine."
He broke.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
But I felt it in the way his breath hitched.
In the way his hand tightened on my hip.
In the way his eyes darkened-not with control, but with something deeper.
Relief.
Need.
Possession.
Fear.
Hope.
His hand came up suddenly, covering mine where it rested on his face, holding it there like he never wanted it to leave. His jaw ticked, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. His grip on me tightened for a brief second, and then he pulled me up, capturing my lips in a slow, deep kiss that made my toes curl.
The rain kept falling, drowning out the rest of the world.
And I never wanted this moment to end.
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