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Her Dom's Lesson (Dominic Powers Book 2) Page 11
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Just as my unresolved orgasm starts to subside, he moans in pleasure and there’s a sensual tap on my clit that sends electricity shooting through my entire body. Holy shit! My eyes fly open and I see the riding crop in his hand just as it flies through the air and strikes my clit again, reigniting the fire between my legs. A couple more rounds of this brand of sensual torture, he pulls away from me before he pushes me over on my back and climbs on top of me.
“Take me in your mouth again, Sophia,” he insists. Then I feel his mouth on me, between my legs. I can’t take much more. The scruff of his beard is an extra stimulant against my clit and the inside of my thighs. When his warm, wet tongue circles my clit, I almost come undone. My legs involuntarily squeeze closed until he pushes them apart.
“Don’t do that again. Be still,” he says, and I get another swat but this time with his hand.
He continues with his mouth and tongue, adding his fingers for extra torture measures. Reading my body with consummate skill, he stops his ministrations every time I’ve built up to another mind-blowing orgasm. I’m about to use our safe word, heartbeat, because it’s too much stimulation with no release in sight, when he suddenly stops completely.
Now, he’s lying on top of me, our bodies perfectly aligned and his face is directly above mine. “That’s my girl. You took your punishment so well, but I think you’re about at your limit. I’m proud of you, my love. You’ve pleased me so much and now you will get your pleasure.”
He pulls my legs up and holds them behind my knees and slowly slides into me. Claiming my mouth with his, he kisses me passionately, lovingly, and thoroughly, as he makes sweet love to me. This is my Dom, the one who focuses on bringing me the most exquisite pleasure I’ve ever known. This is my Dom, the one who freely gives his love and really doesn’t ask for much else in return.
The overwhelming feelings of love I have for him overtake me and my tears flow freely. He knows why, so he doesn’t have to ask. His thumbs gently wipe away my tears as he repeatedly thrusts into me. My orgasm builds higher and higher, and I realize now that all the punishment was to bring me to this point–to feel the deepest and strongest feelings I’ve ever felt. As I reach the ultimate peak of my climax and scream his name, all the worry, stress, and guilt fade from my mind. All that’s left is my Dom, our love, and complete serenity.
Over the next hour, my Dom gives attention and love to every inch of my body. There isn’t one spot that he didn’t lick, kiss, rub, or touch in the sweetest, most loving, and most erotic way. His promise to give my pleasure is kept many times–as I screamed his name over and over again. He made slow, deep love to me, keeping our eyes locked, but letting his love flow freely through them and through his words. The affections he gives me make me feel like a completely loved and fully worshipped woman. All of the punishment he doled out earlier was absolutely worth the rewards afterward.
Dom is sitting up, leaned back against the headboard of the bed, and has me cradled in his arms like a baby. He leans in and gently kisses my face, “You’re so beautiful, My Angel,” he croons. “How do you feel now?”
“Renewed,” I say, unable to find a better word to describe it in my state of euphoria. “The cobwebs and clutter in my mind has been wiped clean and I feel at peace now. And this, being in your arms, is exactly what I need right now. I’ve missed you so much, Dom.”
His arms tighten around me in response and he kisses me gently. “I’ve missed you, too, baby. You have no idea how much.”
“I had a dream one night, a nightmare, really. I dreamed I was outside and saw another woman leaving your house. You called me inside and then told me you weren’t my Dom anymore. It all felt so real–it was just too much to think I’d lost you forever.”
“There hasn’t been anyone else, Sophia. Yes, I was hurt, I was mad, and I believed the worst. But deep down, I never stopped loving you,” he murmurs in my ear.
This is my home. This is where I belong–wherever this man is will also be where I am. He fills the hole that’s always been in my heart. In him, I’ve found the part of me that has been missing for so long. Maybe it isn’t good to be this consumed and attached with another person, but without him, a part of me was dead. I am only fully alive with him.
And I’ll stand toe-to-toe and fight anyone who attempts to split up my family.
“You must be hungry after all of our bedroom acrobatics, My Angel,” Dominic says as he opens the refrigerator door. I should’ve fed you first but I couldn’t wait to have you myself.”
“I am getting hungry. It’s been hard to eat with all the morning sickness I’ve had. It hasn’t been just in the morning–it comes and goes at any time of the day,” I admit.
Dominic removes several items and busies himself at the stove. By the time he’s finished, I have a steaming bowl of vegetable soup and a grilled cheese sandwich placed in front of me. A very demanding Dom, and father-to-be, takes the seat beside me to ensure I eat it all.
“You’ve lost too much weight, Sophia,” he gently chastises, “and both of my babies needs nourishment.” He smiles warmly at me as he inclines his head to urge me to eat.
In between bites, we talk easily to catch up on the last couple of months. When I tell him all about my visit to the obstetrician, he has a sad look when he says he wishes he’d been there with me to see our baby. I jump up from the table and quickly trot to the foyer to retrieve my purse. Dom quickly trails behind me.
“I thought you were going to be sick again,” he says when he catches up. “What are you doing?”
I pull out the pictures of our little eight-week old blob and show him the details that the ultrasound technician pointed out to me. He looks at the images in awe at the tiny arms and legs that are distinguishable. “There’s a little life growing inside of you. That is so amazing,” his voice holds so much amazement. Then he looks up at me, back to serious mode, “Go eat. Now. My baby is hungry.”
I laugh and do as he says. That soup and sandwich combination is the best thing I’ve tasted in the last two months. Dom stares at the images as I eat, going back and forth between the printouts, and I watch him with a smile on my face. Having dreaded this conversation with him at first, I’m so relieved that he’s actually excited about having a baby with me.
“Dom,” I cautiously start, “I’ve been thinking.”
He looks up at me and narrows his eyes. “About?” He tilts his head to the side and eyes me carefully as he waits for the next revelation to come out of me.
“Instead of just quitting my job, I could work from home and just go into the office with you a couple of days a week. When I worked from the condo for those two weeks, it really seemed to work out well,” I explain and then hold my breath for his answer.
“Why do you want to keep working? I make more than enough to support us,” he inquires.
“I enjoy working. Solving puzzles, finding new ways to negotiate contracts with blowhards like Rich Daltry, and making friends in the company. I’m just not ready to give all of that up yet. But, I do agree that my health and the baby’s health need to come first.”
“I will agree to three days a week while you’re pregnant. Two days at home and one day in the office–as long as you’re eating and you’re both healthy. The first sign of any problem, you will quit working completely and have no stress on you,” he offers.
Knowing my Dom as well as I do, I know this is his final offer. He doesn’t negotiate like a normal contractor would. He’s a “take-it-or-leave-it” kind of man. In this case, if I pushed back on the number of days or the terms, I know I can kiss it all goodbye.
“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Powers,” I smile and extend my hand for a handshake to seal it.
He takes my hand, gives it a firm pump up and down, and then pulls me into his lap. “It’s that important to you?” he asks tenderly.
“It is, Dom. I know you can provide for us, but I love the sense of accomplishment I get from a job well done. It’s what drove me to finish scho
ol early, to get the best internships in college, and the best jobs after graduation. It’s what I know,” I explain.
“Fair enough,” he says, pushing my hair behind my ear, “as long as you’re healthy and happy. I want you to take this week off, though. I can feel your ribs and you’ve been through way too much. I’m not budging on this one, Sophia.”
“You won’t hear any argument from me. I’ll take this week off to rest and recuperate. Can you work from home this week? You’re the only reason I wanted to go back in the office anyway,” I confess.
“I do own the company,” he reasons. “I can work from home whenever I want.”
Dominic
“Are these the building plans for Quattro Amore?” I ask Shadow when he unrolls a set of building drawings on the formal dining table. He, Tucker, and I are reviewing our plans for covering the restaurant during Sophia’s dinner meeting with her brother this weekend.
“Yes, I want to show you our plan for securing the building. My men and I will be very busy, Dominic. While Sophia is inside the dining area, her safety will be entirely in your hands,” Shadow explains, the gravity of the situation is aptly portrayed in his tone.
“Nothing will happen to her on my watch,” I vow.
“We’ll have communication devices so we’ll all be in constant communication, except Sophia. We’ll be able to hear her but she won’t hear us. If we see someone suspicious, we won’t have any way of alerting her. She’ll wear a camera so we’ll know where she is, we’ll see what she sees, and we’ll hear what she hears,” Tucker explains.
I don’t like this one fucking bit. She’s been so sick over the past week and has lost so much weight. She really doesn’t need this added stress on her of worrying about the true reason behind this meeting. I’m agreeing to this whole fucked up plan for two reasons–the off chance that her brother really does want to see her and make things right between them, or if it is a set up, we’ll put an end to it once and for all.
Gripping the table tightly with my arms straightened, I tell them both, “Let’s just get this done and over with. I’ve had enough of fucking around with this. The police have done absolutely fucking nothing to find out who is behind the attempts on me. If her family is behind it in any way, I will find out, and I will make them pay.”
“One step at a time,” Shadow absently replies, studying the building layout. “My team will cover every possible exit–four will walk the perimeter, two at the front door, two at the kitchen exit, two at the emergency exit, and one in each bathroom. I’ll be in the vehicle outside, monitoring all communications and video feeds. Tucker will have eyes on you at all times.”
Right, Tucker will have eyes on me. My life has been the one on the line. But right now, it’s Sophia’s life that I’m concerned about. It must be written across my face because Shadow is carefully watching me, scraping his hand across his chin as he gives me a curious look.
“You do realize this could also be a set up to get you in Austin, right? She could just be the red herring that draws our attention away from the real target. That’s exactly why Tucker will have eyes on you at all times. This is not up for discussion,” Shadow concludes.
“Point taken, Shadow,” I agree.
The three of us pour over the plan again, mapping where each person will be, how we’ll ensure Sophia’s safety, and what we’ll do should this turn out to be a simple dinner. None of us believe that is the case, but luck favors the prepared. Shadow and Tucker leave the room and I’m left to stare at the building plans alone.
I’ve tried to string together the pieces of this mind-fuck puzzle over and over again.
Harrison Dictman sent Sophia to ruin me with a sexual harassment lawsuit.
Harrison claims he has proof that I killed Carol Ann.
Harrison has evidence against Sophia’s brother, Shawn, which he used to control her.
Shawn is facing prison time if that evidence resurfaces. He has ties to the Mexican drug cartel.
Sophia’s father, Manuel, has a history of being an assassin for the cartel.
Sarah, Sophia’s mother, kept calling her just before the house fire.
What the fuck am I missing?
Chapter Twelve
“Shadow,” I call from behind his retreating form.
“Yeah,” he says as he turns toward me.
“What did you find out about what Harrison allegedly has on me?”
Shadow and Tucker exchange glances and the corner of Shadow’s mouth quirks up. “Tucker will invite himself into Harrison’s house and have a look. Harrison hasn’t been back home since the night he assaulted Sophia, so it really shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I don’t really want to know,” I say, shaking my head. “Just call me if you need bail money.” They both laugh as they turn and walk away.
I worked from home today and actually get a lot more accomplished when I’m not constantly interrupted in the office. After work, I took Sophia into the bedroom and we had a rousing repeat of her punishment session, but this time with only her pleasure as the focus. It’s a much different experience to withhold an orgasm to further enhance her pleasure than it is to punish. It’s much more intimate and much sweeter when she receives her reward. After I lost count of how many times she screamed my name, we both fell on the bed in exhaustion.
“You really need to quit taking advantage of me before I’ve had a chance to eat dinner,” I playfully chide her. “You just zap all of my energy.”
She laughs and playfully swats my arm. “It’s about time for you to feed me, isn’t it?”
“Yes, love, I’ll gladly feed you,” I reply suggestively.
“You are insatiable! And I love it–but right now, we need real food,” she says lovingly.
“Your wish is my command, my love.” I help her dress and wrap my arm around her as we walk to the kitchen.
Hours later, we’ve had dinner and Sophia says she’s going to soak in a hot bath. I’m tempted to join her, but I head back downstairs instead. I’m caught up in my own thoughts of how my life has simultaneously become so fucked up but also became so right. After Carol Ann’s death rattled me, I questioned my ability to be a Dom. Sophia’s association with Harrison shook me at first, but my resolve to show them what kind of man I am is strong. Now, after learning the truth, Sophia is back in my arms and we have a baby on the way.
These thoughts swirl in my mind mixed with memories of everything else that’s happened, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t see the complete picture. Recounting each incident, turning them over and over in my mind, it takes me a moment for the beeping noise to register.
The alarm at my office has been tripped.
Tucker is already on the phone with the building security, giving them directions as he rushes toward the door to the garage. “Lock down the building now. Stop the elevators and lock the stairwell doors. Post guards at every exit and coordinate with the police when they arrive. No one gets in or out until we get there.”
Shadow and Tucker stop their urgent movements to glance at each other and then at me. I know what they’re thinking. Who gets to stay behind and babysit Sophia and me?
“Go ahead, Tucker. I’ll stay here,” Shadow says. “You’ll be able to recognize if the intruder is an employee or not.”
Turning to me, Shadow says, “I know you’re capable to taking care of yourself. But, this may be a diversion to get us away from you so someone else can sweep in. I’d rather err on the side of caution until all of my questions are answered.”
I nod in response and pace the expansive den back and forth. “I’m going to visit Sophia’s family while we’re in Austin for her dinner meeting this weekend. Even if it really is with her brother, even if he really does just want to be a part of her life again, I’m still going to talk to them,” I decide, more to myself than to Shadow but I see him nod his head in agreement.
“I told you I’ve done some digging around on them. Seems Shawn has some pretty serious charges agai
nst him and he’s only free because the evidence has been ‘misplaced’ somehow. The only way that can happen is if Harrison has some low friends in high places within the Austin Sheriff’s Department,” Shadow relays.
“What kind of charges?”
“Driving under the influence, negligent homicide, and drinking underage,” Shadow replies solemnly. “He was driving drunk and high, with friends in the car. He lost control at high speed, hit an embankment, and flipped the car. He walked away with minor bruises, scrapes, and cuts. But his girlfriend, who was in the seat beside him, died at the scene.”
“What evidence is missing?”
“The blood sample that proved his alcohol level and the drugs that were in his system at the time of the wreck. If it doesn’t turn up soon, his lawyer will file a motion to have the evidence suppressed since they didn’t preserve it properly and the chain of custody is in question,” Shadow explains. “If it does turn up, the judge can deny the motion and allow it to be admissible in court.”
“So, he’s either looking at a long time in prison or getting off scot-free?” I ask incredulously. “How is he out of jail if he’s awaiting trial for negligent homicide?
“The judge set his bail at half a million dollars and his family posted the money for the bond,” Shadow replies as he cocks one eyebrow up in suspicion. “That’s fifty-thousand dollars cash someone had to put up to get him out. That’s a lot of money for them.”
“They had to get help from someone,” I agree.
“Follow the money. That’s where the bad guys are,” Shadow muses. But we both know it’s the truth. Follow the money trail and it’ll lead us right back to the person behind it all.
“The way Tucker drives when he’s alone, and the light traffic at this time of night, he should be there in thirty minutes.”