Page 28 of Blackmailing Belle (The Lost Girls #4)

Chapter 28

A Wolf in Belle’s Clothing

BELLE

T he room seems to hold its breath in the silence that follows, the crackle of the fire the only sound as he pulls back just enough to look at me. His mismatched eyes search mine, fierce and unyielding, and for a moment, I see it—the raw vulnerability beneath the layers of control and fury.

And then he moves, his hands sliding up my thighs, his touch firm and deliberate. My heart leaps, my breath hitching as anticipation coils low in my belly, but there’s no hesitation in his movements, no second-guessing as he pulls my shirt off, then my bra. Soon I’m without clothes, laying on the couch warmed by the dancing firelight.

I groan and tug at his clothes until he divests them as well.

"I won’t let anything happen to you," he murmurs, his voice softer now, though no less intense, as he covers my body on the couch "Not ever."

When his lips capture mine once more, I realize there’s no place I’d rather be—no one else I’d trust to hold me, claim me, protect me. Dominic Blackwell may be a monster, but in this moment, he’s my monster.

Though it’s hard to nod as he pistons two fingers inside me, putting me in a frenzy. My stomach tightens, rising up higher, higher to new heights.

"You are a Blackwell now. My wife. And anyone who so much as looks at you wrong. . ." He loses his voice as if overcome by a sudden bout of violence that has robbed him of words. "I’ll fucking rip out their throat and feed it to them, Isabelle. I’ll fucking do anything for you. I’ll make the world bow at your feet."

I open my mouth to reply, but it's a wail that escapes me as my inner muscles clamp down and my hips buck, my orgasm hitting me full force. I scrabble at the couch and dig my fingers in Dominic’s hair.

Then his fingers are replaced by a long, dexterous tongue licking as his fingers move to rubbing hard and fast along my clit. I choke and then scream as a second intense orgasm somehow collides with the first.

"That’s it. Come for me, Isabelle. You taste so fucking good." My body and brain spin and time blurs and constricts before releasing.

When I finally catch my breath, I vaguely hear the unmistakable sound of a zipper being released. "I can’t fucking wait any longer," he growls, agony tightening the words.

Anticipation sends my heart shooting up to lodge in my throat. He covers my body with his, and his hardness nudges at my wet, still quivering sex.

I grab his shoulders, holding on even as he pushes up without warning. A yelp escapes me as he fills me. Dominic freezes.

"Don’t stop," I practically sob, as I rock my hips trying to get him further in. It’s too much, but my body aches for more. "Please. Please, Dominic."

A strangled sound escapes him as he continues to slide in but at a slower rate. My back arches and I throw my head back. "Ah, oh fae lords. It’s so good." His length is deliciously different from any normal man’s, and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it. If he hadn’t just brought me to a frenzy of several orgasms I might be crying in pain but my body is desperate for him. I am desperate for him if I’m being honest.

Dominic rocks gently but insistently, his teeth bared, eyes flashing.

Dominic’s claws dig into my thighs as he pulls me impossibly closer, pushing my knees up to better drive into me. His breath is ragged and hot against my ear. "You’re mine, Isabelle." His words vibrate through my entire body. "This body is mine to touch, to taste, to fuck. No one else will ever have you. No one else deserves to."

I should bristle at the possessiveness in his tone, at the way he speaks as though I’m his property. But his voice drips with a dark hunger that stirs something deep inside me, something I can’t deny no matter how much I want to.

I matter to him. My absence would cause him pain. Even my bare nick of a wound outraged him. And fae lords help me it hits me on a visceral level I didn’t even know was possible.

His fingers find my clit again, circling it with a relentless precision that has me crying out, my body arching against his.

"These sounds," he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw. "These are mine too. All of them. Every gasp, every moan. Every time you come, it’s for me."

"Dominic," I pant, my nails clawing at his back, desperate to ground myself against the tidal wave of sensation he’s unleashing.

"Say it," he commands, his voice rough. His free hand cups my breast through the thin fabric of my lingerie, squeezing possessively. "Say you’re mine."

"I’m yours," I gasp, the words spilling from my lips unbidden. "Gods, I’m yours, Dominic."

He groans in satisfaction, his hand sliding to grip my hip with bruising force as he thrusts into me again, the ridges of his length dragging against my inner walls in a way that has me spiraling toward another climax.

Then he claims my mouth like he has my body. I’m drowning. The way our tongues meet and dance only pushes my desire higher and tighter.

The couch beneath us creaks under his sheer size, the strain of his movements making the frame groan ominously. Dominic snarls low in his throat, pulling out just long enough to scoop me up as though I weigh nothing. His lips crash against mine, feral and demanding, as he lowers us to the floor. The plush rug cushions my back, but the heat of his body consumes me entirely.

"This is better," he mutters against my mouth, his hands gripping my thighs again to spread me wide beneath him. His green eyes burn with a dark intensity as he looks down at me, his expression one of raw, unbridled need. "Now I can fuck you like you deserve to be fucked."

A shiver runs through me at the vulgar promise in his words, and I realize with startling clarity that I don’t care about his possessiveness. I don’t care if he treats me like his to use, to claim, to ruin. If he keeps touching me like this, if he keeps looking at me like I’m the only thing he wants in the world, I’ll gladly let him .

He rises to his knees, holding mine up to my shoulders. "You’ll take everything I give you. Because you’re mine. And I don’t share," he growls, pounding into me again and again at an angle that makes my brain fuzz over. The barbs glide and grate in a manner that has me panting and sweating. "Each orgasm I force out of you is me staking my claim, Isabelle. Each shuddering pussy melting orgasm is my imprint on you and you will take them until I’ve drilled into the marrow of your bones."

The pressure builds impossibly high and I cry out, the sensation shattering me completely. Another orgasm rips through me, leaving me trembling and gasping beneath him.

Dominic doesn’t stop. "You’re going to take all of me, Isabelle," he murmurs, his voice rough with barely restrained control. "Every inch. Every fucking ridge. You’re going to feel me for days."

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to mine. "You feel so perfect. So tight. Like you were made for me."

I whimper in response, the sensation of him so deep inside me overwhelming. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, his hips pulling back only to slam forward again with a force that steals my breath.

"Mine," he growls, his pace punishing and relentless. "This cunt is mine. This body is mine. Every fucking part of you belongs to me."

"Dominic," I cry out, my nails raking down his back as he pounds into me, the heat and friction building again with every thrust. The air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

His teeth graze the curve of my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin. "You know what Weres do when they claim what’s theirs, don’t you?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing despite the ferocity of his movements.

"Dominic," I gasp, the thought sending a fresh wave of heat through me.

He chuckles darkly, his tongue flicking out to trace the curve of my throat.

The pressure inside me builds to an impossible peak.

Suddenly I need it. I need him to bite me so desperately I’ll lose my mind if he doesn’t.

I cry out, unable to articulate my true needs.

Fangs sink into the top of my breast. Heat spikes and sears straight to where we are joined.

I shatter completely. My climax rips through me, dragging him over the edge with me. His roar fills the room as he spills inside me, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Dominic shudders above me, his release spilling into me, and the heat of it sends a final shiver of pleasure through my body. He collapses onto his forearms, careful not to crush me, his breath hot and ragged against my neck.

The world fades, the intensity of the moment leaving me utterly spent. Dominic’s weight presses down on me, grounding me, his breath warm against my neck as we lay tangled together on the floor.

For a long moment, there’s only silence, broken by the sound of our ragged breathing. His hand brushes over my hair, his touch surprisingly gentle as he cradles me against him.

"You’re mine," he murmurs again, his voice soft now but no less possessive.

And for the first time, I realize I don’t mind.

As the tremors of release subside, I expect Dominic to retreat. It’s what he does—builds walls as quickly as he lets them down, pulls away just when I think I might be able to reach him. I brace myself for that familiar ache, for the cold distance to settle in.

But this time, he doesn’t pull away.

His weight shifts, and I feel the ripple of tension in his body, but instead of letting go, he cups my face in his large hands. His mismatched eyes lock onto mine, their intensity piercing through the haze of exhaustion. For a moment, he looks torn, his jaw tight with unspoken words.

“Come to bed with me,” he says finally. “I can’t stand being apart from you.”

Before I can respond, he scoops me into his arms. The firelight flickers across his face as he carries me effortlessly out of the library, the heat of his naked body seeping into mine. I don’t question him, too stunned by the change in him, by the vulnerability I can feel radiating off him in waves.

The journey to his bedroom is a blur, the dim light of the hallway casting long shadows. When we cross the threshold, the space feels intimate and private. The room is bathed in silvery moonlight, its simplicity a stark contrast to the intensity of the man who sets me down on the edge of the massive bed.

His hands linger on my hips as he steps back, his gaze raking over me as though committing every inch of me to memory. “I almost lost you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

“Dominic. . .” I whisper, but it seems to anchor him, pulling his attention back to me.

He shakes his head, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “No, Isabelle. I’ve spent so long keeping you at arm’s length, convincing myself it was for your own good. That if I kept the monster in me caged, I’d somehow protect you from what I am. But tonight—seeing you, hearing you—I can’t do it anymore.”

His words hang in the air, and I can feel the weight of his confession pressing against my chest. Before I can find the words to respond, he lowers himself onto his knees before me, his hands sliding up my thighs with deliberate slowness.

“I’m not letting you go,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the inside of my knee. “Not now. Not ever. I lied to you when I told you why you were perfect.”

I open my mouth, but he goes on. “You were unattached, all alone except for your father, someone who might not be so disgusted or fearful of my form based on your reading material, but the truth is—” His words break off as if it’s a struggle to keep going. “The truth is,” he says, finding the words he needs. “Since I saw that picture of you on your website, I wanted you.” His claw caresses my jawline, and suddenly it’s hard to focus on him, my eyes have gone blurry with unshed tears. “I wanted this to be methodical, easily compartmentalized, but you are so much more than anything I could have planned on. I’m obsessed with you.” The last words are a pained hiss through his teeth.

He pushes me back onto the bed, his body following as he settles between my legs. The intensity in his gaze steals my breath, and when he leans down to claim my mouth, there’s nothing hesitant or reserved about it. His kiss is deep, consuming, a promise that he’s done holding back.

This time, there’s no rush, no frantic edge. Every touch, every kiss feels like a vow, like he’s making up for every moment he’s kept himself from me. His hands explore my body with a reverence that sends shivers racing across my skin, his lips trailing fire down my neck and shoulders.

The world narrows to the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his movements as he claims me again, and the quiet, whispered promises that slip from his lips like prayers. When we both shatter, it’s not just physical—it’s something deeper, something that leaves me trembling in his arms.

He doesn’t let me go. As the haze of pleasure fades, Dominic gathers me against his chest, pulling the covers over us. His hand trails through my hair, soothing and steady, as though grounding himself in my presence.

My body feels wrecked, branded. And somewhere in the haze, a thought unfurls like a seed planted deep—a baby with Dominic’s green eyes curled against my chest, my voice lulling them to sleep with bedtime stories. A tiny hand gripping my finger, impossibly small but wholly ours.

My throat tightens, my fingers flexing against his skin as the longing takes root.

“I’ve been a coward,” he admits quietly, his voice raw. “Pushing you away, pretending I could keep you safe by keeping you at a distance. But I can’t anymore. I won’t.”

My throat tightens at the vulnerability in his tone, and I press a hand to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm. “Okay.”

His arms tighten around me, his breath warm against my temple. “I mean it, Isabelle. You’re mine. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re safe with me.”

The words sink into me, filling spaces I didn’t know were hollow. Dominic isn’t just holding me—he’s letting me in.

As sleep pulls me under, the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing lulls me into a peace I haven’t felt in years. And for the first time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, Dominic Blackwell isn’t just a monster.

He’s my monster.