Page 27

DOMINIC

W aking up had never felt quite like this before.

Dominic’s body ached in places he didn’t know could ache.

His throat was raw, like he’d been screaming into a void.

Muscles twitched without rhythm, his skin tingled like a sunburn under a winter wind.

But it was the warmth brushing against his side, the steady, living warmth, that drew him from the fog.

The scent hit him next—lavender, smoke, and something sharper. Her . Always her.

“Back with me?” Lillith’s voice was soft but threaded with that familiar snark. A lifeline wrapped in thorns.

He blinked open heavy eyes, the low flicker of candlelight casting dancing shadows across the ceiling of her cottage. Wooden beams. Herbs drying in bundles from the rafters. A cat snoring near the hearth.

Her cottage. Her world. And him in the middle of it.

“Ugh,” he groaned, trying to push up on his elbows, but finding his limbs unwilling participants. “Why does it feel like I got tackled by a tree and then stomped by a moose?”

“You got glamoured, fae-cursed, nearly soul-ripped, and fainted like a damsel,” she said cheerfully.

He squinted at her. “You enjoy this too much.”

She sat at the edge of the bed beside him, legs tucked under her, wearing a faded band tee and threadbare pajama shorts. Her hair was a mess—tangled, wild, gorgeous. Her eyes though, those were clear. Clearer than he’d seen in weeks.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered.

She smirked, the corner of her mouth tugging. “That’s thrice now I’ve bandaged you up.”

Dominic grinned, despite himself. “Starting to think you’ve got a thing for broken men.”

“Starting to think you’ve got a thing for bleeding dramatically all over my rugs.”

“Fair trade,” he said, voice hoarse. “You saved my life.”

Her smile faltered then. Something softer curled into the corners of her expression. She reached for a glass on the nightstand and pressed it into his hand. “Drink. You’ll need it.”

He did, grateful for the cool water. When he handed it back, their fingers brushed. Static. Fire. More obvious than before.

The bond wasn’t there anymore. Not the magical tether that once snapped tight when they strayed too far. But this —this feeling? The heat of her skin against his, the breath they seemed to draw in unison?

Stronger. More real.

Dominic swallowed hard. “Lillith?—”

She cut him off, leaning forward. Her hands framed his face, fingers brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “No more running,” she whispered. “Not from me. Not from this.”

He stared at her, chest hitching. “Are you—are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Her eyes searched his face, as if memorizing every line, every scar, every shift in emotion. “I’m choosing you, Dominic. I don’t care about curses or destiny or what Thaloryn thinks I owe him. I choose you .”

He exhaled a laugh that cracked apart at the edges, raw with disbelief and awe. “You’re sure?”

She nodded once. “I’m done hiding behind what hurt me. I want something real. Even if it scares me.”

“Everything worth having does,” he murmured.

She kissed him then like she meant it. Like everything she hadn’t been able to say was being said in that one action. Like she’d been holding back for too long and finally—finally—the gates had opened.

Dominic responded in kind, threading his fingers through her midnight-black curls, anchoring himself in her as her body pressed against his.

Her cinnamon skin was warm against his palms, soft and freckled and glowing in the low candlelight.

Every place their skin touched felt like it burned—slow, aching, real.

His injuries throbbed, but he didn’t care. He was lionblood and stubborn, and there was no pain in the world stronger than the need he had for her. The need to feel her, to claim her, not with magic or mating bonds—but with his body. With truth.

They tumbled back onto the bed, laughter slipping into breathy moans. She straddled him, her thighs framing his hips as she leaned down to kiss the scar just beneath his collarbone.

His hands roamed her back, memorizing the dips and curves, tracing the trail of scale shimmer along her spine. “You’re unreal,” he rasped. “Like a fucking dream I shouldn’t have touched.”

“Then why do you look at me like I’m the one that’s dangerous?” she whispered against his throat, tongue flicking over his pulse point.

“Because you are,” he breathed. “Gods, Lillith—you are.”

She sat up slowly, fingers sliding down his chest, pushing up his shirt. He let her undress him piece by piece, never breaking eye contact. Her green eyes glowed with wild emotion, with the kind of need that looked too big for her frame. It matched his. Matched everything he’d ever denied himself.

When she tugged off his pants, her breath caught. “Fuck.”

He grinned, but it faltered as she reached for him, her palm warm as it closed around his cock. He hissed through his teeth.

“You’re already hard,” she murmured, watching him. “Already aching for me.”

“You’ve been in my veins for weeks,” he said, voice thick. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s your name I say.”

She stroked him once, slow and deliberate, and his hips bucked up. “Show me,” she said. “Don’t just say it. Show me how much you want me.”

That was all the invitation he needed.

Dominic flipped them, pinning her beneath him with a growl that rumbled deep in his chest. He kissed her like he was starving—slow at first, savoring, then rougher, teeth dragging against her lower lip until she gasped.

Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. “Take it off,” she whispered, tugging his shirt the rest of the way. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

He kissed down her neck, pausing at the ends of her shirt. “You sure?”

“Dominic,” she growled, breath shaking, “if you don’t touch me right now, I’m going to hex your cock.”

He laughed—deep and low—but the sound broke into a groan as he slid her shirt up and over her head, revealing the flush blooming across her chest, the way her nipples hardened from the chill and the anticipation.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, hands gliding up to cup her breasts. He kissed one, then the other, tongue flicking over her nipple until she arched beneath him, panting.

“Gods,” she gasped. “More. Please?—”

He obeyed, trailing kisses down her stomach, tongue dipping into her navel. He peeled her shorts down slowly, baring her inch by inch, until she lay beneath him completely exposed—freckled skin and fae fire.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, spreading her thighs with reverent hands. His golden eyes darkened as he looked down at her pussy, glistening and ready. “Lillith…”

She shivered at the way he said her name. Like a prayer.

He kissed the inside of her knee, then her thigh, then—gods—his tongue was on her, licking through her folds with a growl that made her hips jerk.

“Dom,” she cried, hands flying to his hair, curling tight in the tawny strands. “Oh, gods?—”

He licked her pussy like he had all the time in the world, tongue circling her clit, then flattening against it. Every flick sent electricity down her spine. She was panting, writhing, moaning without shame.

“That’s it,” he whispered, mouth hot against her. “Let me hear you.”

She did. Loudly. Especially when he slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right, his tongue never leaving her clit.

It didn’t take long. Her body tensed, breath caught, then she broke—coming hard, crying out his name like it was the only thing she remembered.

He kissed her through it, easing her back down, licking her slowly until she trembled.

When he crawled back up, his cock pressed hot and heavy between them, she locked her legs around him, dragging him closer.

“Now,” she whispered. “I need to feel all of it. All of you lose control.”

He didn’t ask again.

Dominic lined himself up, eyes locked on hers as he slid inside her, inch by aching inch. Her pussy clenched around him, hot and wet and pulsing with every beat of her heart.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “You feel—gods—you’re so tight.”

She arched under him, arms flung over her head, back bowed. “You’re so deep,” she panted. “You feel so good. So full.”

He paused once he was fully buried in her, his breath trembling against her throat. Her warmth enveloped him, pulsing around him with each of her shallow gasps, her body welcoming him like it had been waiting for this—just as long as he had.

“Lillith…” Her name was a prayer, a growl, a promise.

She cupped his jaw, tugging his face down until their foreheads touched. “Move, Dominic. Please.”

He obeyed.

Every slow thrust was reverent, a devotion spoken in the language of skin and sound.

He moved with aching control, like he wanted to memorize the exact shape of her body wrapped around his.

Her breath hitched each time he rolled his hips forward, hitting that spot that made her shiver and clutch at his back like she was afraid he might disappear.

Their bodies found a rhythm older than either of their bloodlines—lion and fae, shadow and fire—moving together in a syncopated song of want and wonder. The candlelight flickered across their skin, throwing shadows against the walls as if the room itself bore witness.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against her lips, voice low and rough, like it was pulled from the deepest part of him. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped, thighs tightening around his hips. “I’m yours, Dominic.”

“Again.” A ragged edge in his tone now, desperation laced through devotion.

“I’m yours.” Her voice cracked with emotion, with truth. “Gods, don’t stop.”

He kissed her hard then, swallowing her moan as he drove deeper, faster. But even then, it wasn’t just about the friction, the heat—it was the way she looked at him like he was hers, too. Like the walls she’d carried since childhood had finally crumbled, and he was the only one she’d let through.

Her nails dragged down his spine, a whisper of pain that only grounded him more. And when her legs shook around him and her body tightened with the force of another climax, he felt it like a detonation in his chest. She broke apart under him, beautiful and wild and unguarded.

“Dominic—” she cried out, voice raw, undone.

He couldn’t hold back.

He pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes locked even as pleasure overtook him. His hips stuttered, rhythm faltering as he spilled into her with a groan that reverberated from his core. She wrapped her arms around him as if she could anchor him to her soul—and maybe she already had.

Their bodies were still moving, slower now, a series of lingering rolls and soft tremors. His hands found hers, fingers threading together as he kissed the hollow of her throat, then her collarbone, then the curve where her neck met shoulder.

Her breathing was uneven, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes—not from pain, not even from joy. From release. From the kind of vulnerability that scared the strongest people the most.

“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

He brushed a sweat-damp curl from her cheek. “Me either.”

She turned her face into his palm, kissing it softly. “It wasn’t just the bond. This is something else.”

“I know,” he said. “I feel it too.”

They lay tangled in the aftermath, skin damp and hearts pounding in sync. Dominic shifted onto his side, drawing her with him until they were face to face beneath the blanket, their legs twined, her head resting on his arm.

His fingers stroked small circles across her lower back, grounding himself in the feel of her.

Lillith traced a line over his chest, slow and lazy, her fingertips dancing over the scar near his ribs. “You’ve always looked strong,” she said. “But you’re… soft, too. With me.”

“Only with you,” he replied, voice low.

She looked at him, green eyes glowing faintly in the candlelight. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“No more running. No more waiting. If this is real—if we’re real—I want all of it. The risk. The magic. You.”

He leaned in, kissed her gently. “You’ve had all of me since the first time you looked at me like I wasn’t the enemy.”

She smiled. Not a sarcastic twist of her lips, not her usual smirk. A real smile. One that lit up every freckle on her cheeks. One that made him ache all over again.

They didn’t speak for a long while after that.

Just the sound of their breathing, the faint pop of candle wax, and the distant rustle of wind through trees outside the cottage walls. The world could wait.

He was hers.

And she was finally ready to be his.