Page 16

Dominic

I have her tied up, trembling, her body writhing in ecstasy as she comes undone again and again. This is just the beginning. Her ass is stretched with the plug, preparing her for me. Tonight, I’m taking all of her. As I thrust into her once more, her eyes roll back, a scream tearing from her lips my name. That’s right. The only name she’ll ever moan again.

Her little outfit had me undone the moment I saw her. The sheer lace teased me, clinging to her curves, exposing her hardened nipples. The crotchless thong left nothing to the imagination, her glistening folds on full display, drenched with desire. “You’re doing so well for me, princess. Give me one more.” My voice is low, rough, as I rub her clit, pushing even deeper this time. She clenches around me, muscles tightening as she shatters once more, her body arching as much as the cuffs allow.

I pull out, my need momentarily restrained as I reach for the bottle of lube on my nightstand. Returning to her, I take in the sight before me legs spread, wrists bound, her body flushed and trembling. She’s made a mess of herself, and the urge to taste her overtakes me. Dropping to my knees, I run my tongue from her ass up to her swollen clit. She jerks, gasping, a moan escaping her lips. I dive in, drinking her in, tongue flicking and teasing, savoring her like the finest addiction.

I grip the plug, slowly easing it out. She sags against the bed, limbs still restrained. I slick my cock with lube, coating her entrance with my fingers, working her open. Her breath comes in quick pants, anticipation humming in the air. Standing between her thighs, I lean in, bracing my hands beside her face. “Tell me, princess, who’s my good girl?”

She swallows hard, eyes glazed. “I am.” “Good. If it gets too much, you use your words. Understood?” “Yes, sir.” That’s my girl. She might play the sweetheart for the world, but I see the truth. She’s like me searching for something she never knew was missing. The head of my cock presses against her entrance, and I push in, stretching her as she cries out. “Breathe, baby. Relax for me.” She inhales, and I sink deeper into her tight heat. “Look at you, taking me so well. My perfect little whore.”

I thrust into her, her moans spurring me on, the sensation coiling tight in my spine. She’s mine, and tonight, I’ll mark her in every way. With one final thrust, I pull out, spilling over her flushed skin, my release painting her trembling body. Groaning, I brace myself, watching her cheeks flushed, lips parted, her body spent and glowing. A vision.

I unfasten the cuffs, freeing her wrists and ankles. She curls against my pillow, lost in the haze of pleasure. I gather her in my arms. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Carrying her to the shower, I rinse us both quickly before bringing her back to bed. I did not bother to give her something to sleep in, Tonight, she sleeps naked against me.

As the night continues, she sleeps on one side of my chest, my arm around her tired body. She’s sleeping peacefully. I can feel myself slipping further into a hole of no return with this girl. As strange as this feeling is, I am actually enjoying it. There’s never been a girl I didn’t get bored with. Gwen is like the calm before the storm; she gives me a sense of peace. The raging demons in my head never still, but when she's in my arms, they are silenced.

Love at first sight is something I thought was foolish. I won’t say I’m in love because the word is used too loosely, but I have never wanted to make someone mine as much as I do Gwen. Playing with her long blonde hair draped over her arm, I fall into a deep sleep.

Waking in the early morning as the sun breaks through the darkness, I stretch my arms and glance over at my girl, still sound asleep. I grab my cell off the nightstand and see missed calls from Bash and a few texts. Opening the messages, I find new information and what seems to be bad news.

TEXT: BASH: Meet me at Chophouse ASAP!

Sliding out of my oversized king bed, I grab a pair of jeans, throw a shirt over my head, and head out of the bedroom. Making my way to the living room, I pull up Bash’s contact and press call. It rings a few times before he picks up.

“Dom, we got problems, man.” “What happened? This should have been an easy job,” I say, feeling my blood boil. “We anticipated a few guys at the drop-off address, but we didn’t expect them to be heavily armed.” “What do you mean, heavily?” I rub my temple. “AKs.” Bash lets out a sigh. “Anyone hurt?” I ask, worried.

“A little blood never hurts. I got stitched up. Nothing but a flesh wound. But I left three bodies. Gonna need a crew to clean up.” “Call it in. I’m headed to Chop. Meet you there,” I tell him while grabbing my shoes.

Bash lets out a breath, sending a troubled feeling down my spine. “Dom, come by yourself, alright? That’s not the worst part.” My mind races. Why would I bring someone with me? Unless he means Gwen. That makes no sense what would she have to do with any of this? “Yeah, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Hanging up, I grab my helmet and jump on my blacked-out Suzuki Hayabusa. Swerving in and out of traffic, dodging cars left and right, my mind goes in a million different directions. Were my own guns used against my guys? Were they there to protect Jimmy? How many more has he recruited to keep his life safe? And why does Bash want to make sure Gwen wasn’t with me?

Pulling into the empty parking lot of Chophouse, I see Bash’s bike is already here. Stepping off my bike and removing my helmet, I take a look around before making my way into the building. Minimal lights are on. Heading up the stairs to my office, I open the door. Bash is sitting at my desk, and Trey is on the couch to the right of the room.

“Boys, it seems you had an exciting night.” I pour myself a whiskey at the mini bar in my office, the amber liquid burning as it slides down my throat. Trey sits up straighter, huffing, while Bash walks over to the door, raising his arms to grip the trim above the frame. His muscles flex, and the bandage around his leg is soaked in blood.

“We found some things after the bloodshed,” Trey says, his voice tight with unease. “Some things that don’t make any sense.” I set my glass down as Trey hands me a picture. My fingers tighten around it the moment my eyes register the image. Jimmy. And Gwen. My Gwen. On his lap. “What the fuck is this?” My voice is dangerously low. My pulse pounds in my ears. “We have a guy unconscious in the basement,” Bash says, stepping closer. “He had it on him. Only one left alive after we dropped his carved-up buddy at the address. He hid while the other three ate bullets for dinner.” He smirks, but my mind is elsewhere.

Why is my girl in a picture with a man I have a hit out on? A man who thinks he can outsmart me, take my money, steal my guns. My grip tightens on the photo, my jaw locking. I exhale sharply. “Let’s go get some answers then.”

The steel door groans open as I step into the basement. The stench of sweat and blood clings to the air. A man hangs from chains, his arms stretched above his head, his toes barely scraping the concrete. His head droops forward, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

I’m dressed casually had to jump out of bed with Gwen to take care of business. And now my mind won’t stop racing. Does she know Jimmy’s about to have his head on a stick? Was she sent to distract me while he tries to move against me? My knuckles crack before I send a fist into the hanging man’s torso. His body jerks, a choked grunt escaping as blood dribbles from his busted lips. “Ah, the man of the hour is awake.” I grin. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He groans, shifting in his restraints, his wrists raw from the chains digging into his flesh. I grab his face, forcing his bloodshot eyes to meet mine. “I hear you had a picture of Jimmy. My question is who is the bombshell on his lap?” I pull the picture from my pocket and hold it in front of him. “Who might this pretty young thing be? His gaze flickers to the image before he spits blood to the side. “Look, I was just doing what I was paid to do.” I grab his jaw tighter. “And what exactly were you paid to do?” My patience is wearing thin. The devil inside me is clawing to the surface.

He exhales a ragged breath. “I was told to follow her. Keep an eye on her. Jimmy’s been looking for her for weeks. Got a tip she was here, staying with her mother. His girl ran out on him. Took the cash and disappeared. He wants her back. Says she’s important.”

His head slumps forward again, exhaustion dragging him down. The chains creak as his body sags. “His girl,” I repeat slowly, my jaw clenching. My vision blurs with rage. “Get him down,” I ordered Bash. As Bash moves to undo the chains, the man collapses onto the concrete floor with a heavy thump. Lying in a pool of his own blood, he struggles to summon the strength to lift himself. I pace the room, running a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Strap him to the table.” I point to the cold metal slab in the corner. Bash hauls the guy up while Trey rolls the table to the center of the room. They strap him down, one limb at a time. He’s too weak to resist. His head lolls to the side, sweat trickling down his bruised face.

“Here’s how this is going to go. I ask questions. You answer. If I think you're lying, I'll show you why we call this place the Chophouse. Understand?” I pull my switchblade from my pocket and run the tip lightly down his stomach. The blade barely grazes his skin, but he jumps, a sharp intake of breath betraying his fear. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead.

“Yes! I don’t know much more, but I’ll tell you everything! Just let me go!” His voice is desperate, cracking with panic. “The girl in the picture. What’s her name, and how much money did she take from old' Jimmy boy?”

Bash drags a chair over, straddling it, while Trey leans against the wall, watching in silence. “Her name is Gwen,” the man croaks. “Jimmy had fifty grand saved. While he was out on a job, she took it and ran.” I whistle low. “Fifty grand? That’s no chump change. What’s Jimmy planning to do once he gets her back? Run off into the sunset? Settle down with his precious runaway?” I twirl the blade between my fingers before flicking my gaze to Bash. He already knows what I’m thinking.

“Nah, man,” Bash drawls. “He wants to offer her a truce, a way to clear the debt. He wants the bitch to take the hit off his head.” I shake my head, amused. “So, what’s he offering you to do his dirty work?”

I press the tip of the blade against the man’s side. He flinches. “Guns. He’s been hoarding weapons, selling them off to some overhyped street king. Jimmy thinks the guy’s no threat, that he doesn’t even know he’s been skimming guns off every job. In return, we get a cut for helping him.”

I laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. Bash and Trey join in, and to my surprise, so does the guy strapped to the table. A desperate, shaky chuckle. “That’s golden,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m sure Jimmy’s got it all planned out, doesn’t he?”

As his laughter fades, he shakes his head. “No. We haven’t been able to keep an eye on her. Some nights, she doesn’t come home.” I crouch beside him, my tone turning cold. “One more thing. Where’s Jimmy now? He wasn’t at the house when my guys dropped your friend off.”

His eyes dart between Bash and me “He didn’t say. Just that he’d be back in a few days. He was meeting a lady who could help us.” I hum in response, then drive my knife into the soft flesh of his stomach. He screams, the sound raw, broken. I drag the blade downward, splitting him open like a fish. Blood pulses from the wound, spilling over the sides of the table, pooling onto the floor. I watch him convulse, gasping, choking. Then I smirk. Looks like my little princess has more secrets than I thought. Maybe Cinderella isn’t so wholesome after all.