Page 59 of Laced With Secrets

“Never again,” he said between thrusts. “Never put yourself in danger like that again.”

“I won’t,” I gasped as he bottomed out. “I promise—oh god, right there?—”

His hand slid between us, wrapping around my cock and stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation was almost too much, pleasure building at the base of my spine with devastating intensity.

“That’s it,” Dominic encouraged, his voice rough. “Let go, baby. Come for me.”

The combination of his voice, his cock hitting that perfect spot, his hand on me—it pushed me over the edge. I came with a cry, clenching around him as pleasure crashed through me in waves.

Dominic’s rhythm grew erratic, his control finally fracturing. But before he came, he pulled out suddenly, spinning me around with firm hands on my hips.

“Bend over,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Hands on the table.”

I obeyed immediately, my palms hitting the smooth wood as I bent forward at the waist. The position left me completely exposed and vulnerable to my alpha. My omega hindbrain sang with the rightness of it.

Dominic’s palm curved over my bare cheek, warm and possessive. I melted into the table’s unyielding surface, muscles going liquid as my alpha’s fingertips traced possessive circles across my skin. Then?—

Smack.

Not hard. Just enough to sting, to surprise, to make me jolt forward with a gasp that came out far too much like a moan.

“Like that, baby?” Dominic’s voice was rough, dangerous. His hand soothed over the spot he’d just struck, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through me.

“Yes,” I gasped, my body betraying exactly how much I’d liked that sharp sting. My face burned against the cool wood, my cock half-hard and leaking.

Through our bond, I sensed Dominic’s reaction. He’d felt everything—the spike of arousal, the embarrassed want, the desperate need for more.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and I felt his cock twitch against my thigh. “We’re definitely exploring that later. But right now…” His fingers dug into my hips as he positioned himself and thrust back inside in one smooth motion. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

The new angle was devastating. He was deeper like this, hitting spots that made me nearly blackout with every thrust. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to leave marks as he set a relentless pace, all that pent-up fury finally unleashed.

“Mine,” he growled, one hand sliding up my spine to press between my shoulder blades, keeping me bent over the worktable. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, alpha,” I cried, as pleasure exploded through my body again. My release splattered across the scarred wood of my worktable.

Dominic came with a shout, driving in deep one final time. His teeth found my shoulder in a claiming bite that would definitely leave a mark, his release spilling hot inside me.

We stayed like that for long moments after, just breathing. Eventually Dominic pulled out carefully, and I made a soft sound of loss.

“Come on,” he said gently, helping me straighten on shaky legs. He swept down in a single fluid motion, one powerful arm hooking beneath my legs, the other cradling my back. My weight seemed inconsequential as he hoisted me up against his chest in a princess carry. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

My small bathroom seemed so much smaller with my alpha occupying it. The vintage clawfoot tub had been here since my great-grandfathers renovated the shop after combining their businesses.

I leaned against the sink, still catching my breath as Dominic ran the bath—testing the temperature, adding the vanilla and honey bath salts I preferred, making sure everything was perfect.

“In,” he commanded softly once the tub was full.

I climbed in gratefully, sinking into the warm water with a sigh. The heat immediately soothed muscles I hadn’t realized were tense.

Dominic stripped off his remaining clothes and climbed in behind me, settling so I could lean back against his chest. His arms came around me immediately, pulling me close.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much better.” But I couldn’t seem to stop touching him—fingers tracing the strong lines of his forearms, following the path of water droplets on his skin. The need for contact, for reassurance, was suddenly overwhelming.

I trembled against his solid form, my body betraying me with involuntary shivers despite the steam curling around us and fogging the small bathroom window.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whispered, my voice catching as his arms tightened around my frame.