Page 75 of Laced With Secrets
“I’m recovering from a momentary rush of panic—that you instigated—and trying to hide it with sarcasm,” he corrected. His steel-gray eyes held mine, and through our bond I feltexactly what he meant—the raw fear and now relief beneath his controlled exterior.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“Never be sorry for calling me when you need me.”
“Even if it means hanging up on Blake during important business calls?” I asked, trying to lighten the moment.
“Especially then.” He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “Blake’s scrappy. He’ll survive well enough on his own. But if something happened to you...” He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t need to. I felt the rest through our bond.
“Ready to get home.” He straightened, his hand moving to my lower back in that protective gesture that had become second nature.
It wasn’t really a question, but I answered anyway. “Yeah.”
“Tired?”
“I’m fine,” I protested, but even as the words left my mouth, I realized how drained I felt. The memorial service, the speech, Helen Wong’s resigned grief, Constance’s confession—it was all catching up with me.
“I’ve had enough emotional upheaval for one day.” Dominic said, guiding me toward the exit. His alpha scent wrapped around me, settling something anxious in my chest. “And our baby needs you to rest.”
He was right, of course. And as we left the Historical Society building, stepping out into the winter air, I let myself lean into his warmth.
Through the window, I caught one last glimpse of the memorial display—Thomas’s photographs smiling out at a world that had failed him.
“What are you thinking?” Dominic asked as we reached his car and he opened the passenger door for me.
“Constance suspected Thomas was pregnant,” I said quietly, settling into the seat. “And if she figured it out, others might have known too. What if that person saw the pregnancy as a problem that needed eliminating?”
He closed my door and rounded to the driver’s side, sliding in beside me. “Meaning the motive had nothing to do with?—”
“Hiding financial crimes,” I finished. I placed my free hand over my stomach, feeling the small swell that held our child. “What if the criminal activities at the time are a red herring?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Morning light filtered through the curtains of our new bedroom, painting everything in soft gold. I woke slowly, awareness returning in layers—the warmth of Dominic’s body pressed against my back, his arm draped over my waist, his hand resting on the small swell of my belly. His breath was warm against my neck, steady and even.
His cock was hard against my ass.
I shifted slightly, pressing back experimentally against him. His arm tightened immediately, a low rumble of approval vibrating through his chest.
“Morning,” he murmured against my skin, his voice rough with sleep. Not fully awake yet, but definitely getting there.
“Morning,” I whispered back, rocking my hips deliberately. His hand on my belly flexed, fingers splaying possessively.
“Keep doing that,” he growled into my ear, his voice dropping to that dark tone that made heat pool in my belly, “and I’m going to flip you over and fuck you into this mattress until you can’t remember your own name.”
A needy whimper escaped me before I could stop it. My body responded immediately—slick beginning to gather, my hole clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.
“Mmm,” Dominic hummed as his hand slid from my belly, moving lower with deliberate intent. His fingers teased, not quite giving me what I wanted.
“Dom,” I whined, my body arching as I ground my hips backward, feeling his hardness press deeper into the curve of my ass.
“I don’t think so, baby,” his laugh rumbled against my skin, warm and husky. His tongue flicked the sensitive shell of my ear, sending a cascade of goosebumps across my flesh. “Not until you beg me.”
“Please,” I mewled, writhing beneath his touch. “Please, alpha.”
“Good boy.” He rolled me onto my back with easy strength, settling between my thighs. The sheet tangled around our legs, but neither of us cared. His eyes—smoke gray and intense—locked with mine as his fingers worked me open.
“So perfect for me,” he rasped against my ear. “You have any idea how hard it makes me, seeing you like this? Knowing I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this?”