Page 21 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner (Angel’s Peak #6)

Dominic’s command detonates inside me like a grenade, shattering whatever fragile control I had left.

Pleasure explodes through me, violent and blinding, ripping a hoarse scream from deep inside my chest as my body convulses around him. Nothing like that has ever happened before. Not to me. But something about his command…

It does something to my mind. Opens a part of me I never knew existed, a part that desires to please and obey.

Dominic curses viciously, his hips slamming hard one final time as he buries himself deep and follows me over the edge, growling low and broken against my skin as he empties himself inside me with brutal, claiming shudders.

Dominic still doesn’t stop. Not when my body jerks and trembles through the last savage pulses of my orgasm. Not when I whimper, wrecked and gasping, crushed between his body and the rough floor.

He stays buried inside me, so deep I swear I can feel his heartbeat pounding against my own, the thick length of him still throbbing with every broken breath he drags into his lungs .

His hand stays tangled in my hair, his fingers tight and unrelenting, keeping my head tipped back so I can’t look away from him.

His other hand slides from my hip to my ass, gripping me harder, lifting me higher onto his cock like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold me tight enough.

The possessiveness in him is brutal. It sears through every nerve ending I possess, branding me as his in a language older than words.

“You’re not done,” he rasps, voice torn and guttural against my mouth.

His hips jerk, grinding into me, and I sob again, the overstimulated nerves of my body firing wildly at the renewed pressure.

I’m shaking so hard I can’t think, can’t breathe, but Dominic doesn’t give me a second to recover. Doesn’t give me the mercy of time.

The world dissolves into heat, sound, and pressure. Into the desperate, relentless slap of his hips against my thighs. Into the bruising grip of his hands, the punishing scrape of his teeth dragging down my throat.

He mutters something raw and filthy against my skin—something about how good I feel, how tight, how he’s never fucking letting me go. But the words melt into the roar in my head before I can catch them.

I sob, overwhelmed, overstimulated, and shattered into a million pieces.

And still, he doesn’t stop.

Pleasure rises again, savage and blinding.

Hotter.

Sharper.

More brutal.

I’m coming before I even realize it’s happening—a desperate, broken thing tearing from my throat as I clamp down around him, my body milking him, dragging him deeper, higher, into the abyss with me.

We cling to each other, locked together in the wreckage, breathing each other’s air, hearts slamming out a wild, broken rhythm that feels like the only thing left holding me to this earth.

I don’t have time to think.

I don’t have time to breathe.

All I can do is fall over and over again.

He’s relentless, a force of nature, fucking me back into the floor with savage, desperate thrusts, like he needs me to anchor him to something real.

Like he’s afraid that if he lets go, he’ll tear himself apart.

I lose track of time.

Lose track of everything except the burn and stretch of him inside me, the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the way he murmurs rough, filthy words against my ear as he takes me again and again.

Between fits of sleep—shallow, broken, gasping—he wakes me with his hands on my body, his mouth between my thighs, his cock pushing deep inside me from behind.

Each time rougher.

Each time more.

At some point, he flips me over, shoving me to my knees on the thick rug.

My thighs tremble, barely able to hold me up, but his hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to arch for him.

The tip of his cock brushes my lips, and instinct takes over?—

I open for him.

Dominic groans, filthy and raw, and slides between my lips, filling my mouth the way he fills my body— relentless, claiming, unyielding.

He fucks my mouth with slow, grinding thrusts, his hand tangled viciously in my hair, controlling my every move.

Tears blur my vision, heat flooding my face, but I don’t pull away. I don’t want to.

When he pulls free, I’m wrecked—shaking, panting, strings of spit clinging between my lips and his cock.

He catches me before I collapse, pulling me down with him in front of the fire.

Dominic wraps himself around me like a shield, dragging the quilt from the couch over our bodies. The fire crackles low, bathing us in molten gold and deep shadow.

His arms tighten around me, crushing me against the broad wall of his chest, one heavy hand cupping the back of my skull, holding me exactly where he wants me.

I feel the steady beat of his heart against my cheek. Feel the raw tremor still running through him. Hear the low, broken sounds he makes—not words, just shuddering breaths like he’s still trying to hold the last pieces of himself together.

His hand slides down my back, rough and trembling, tracing the bruises he’s left on my hips, my ass, my thighs.

His voice is a rasp in the dark when he finally speaks, so low I almost miss it.

“You’re mine now.”

I bury my face against him and nod, too wrecked, too full, too his to say anything else.

And in the quiet dark, wrapped in his brutal, broken embrace, I fall into the first real sleep I’ve known in years.

When I wake, Dominic’s arm is locked around my waist, his chest molded to my back, each slow breath stirring the loose strands of my hair. His weight presses me deep into the mattress of blankets and skin, grounding me even as my pulse kicks wildly against the confines of my ribs.

For a moment, everything is still.

Then I feel it?—

The thick, heavy length of him, hard and ready, grinding against the curve of my ass.

The tightening of his hold.

The low, rumbling growl vibrating from his chest into the fragile bones of my spine.

There’s no warning. No soft words. Just Dominic shifting his hips and thrusting deep into me in one brutal, devastating stroke that steals the air from my lungs.

I cry out, my body clenching tight around him, instinctive, helpless.

He shudders out a breath against the back of my neck, fisting a brutal hand in my hair and yanking my head back so sharply I gasp. His mouth skims the tender underside of my jaw, a brutal scrape of stubble and teeth, before he speaks.

“Good morning,” he growls, voice rough velvet, dark and wrecked with need.

All I can do is feel the blistering stretch of him pounding into me. The harsh drag of my gasps fills the heavy air. The iron grip of his hand anchors me in place, hips slamming against mine with savage, unrelenting force.

Dominic rides me mercilessly, thrust after thrust. My body arches helplessly into his punishing rhythm, caught in the undertow of a pleasure so raw it borders on pain.

His hand leaves my hair only to slide down my front, finding my clit with brutal precision. Two fingers rub hard and fast, matching the savage tempo of his hips.

I’m already close—too close?—

The orgasm hits with punishing violence, ripping through me so hard I sob his name into the blankets.

Dominic groans low in his chest, thrusts deep once more, and spills inside me with a broken, vicious snarl, his body shuddering against mine.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the crackling of the fire, the harsh slap of our breathing, and the heavy, shaking weight of him blanketing me, as if he’s still trying to bury himself deeper inside my body.

Then, slowly, he softens his hold.

One big hand smoothes down my trembling stomach, the other still braced in my hair like he’s not ready to let go.

He stays inside me. Wrapped around me. Breathing me in like he can’t bear the thought of even an inch of space between us.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his voice low and rough against my ear, each word scraping across my skin like sandpaper and silk.

For a second, I can’t answer. I can’t even think. I’m too full of him, too wrecked, my body still trembling from the force of what just happened.

I close my eyes, letting the heat of him soak into my battered, boneless limbs, the steady thump of his heart against my back anchoring me to the world.

When I finally find my voice, it’s a broken whisper.

“Ruined,” I breathe, my throat raw, my mouth tasting like fire and him. “In the best possible way.”

I feel the rough scrape of his smile against the side of my neck before he presses his mouth there, the kiss too soft to match the brutal claiming that came before it.

His arms tighten around me, one large palm splaying low over my belly, holding me flush against his chest like he can’t stand the idea of letting me go.

His cock still rests deep inside me, softening slowly, but he doesn’t move to pull out.

Doesn’t rush.

He just holds me.

Like I’m something precious.

We stay like that, tangled in the wreckage of each other, the fire hissing quietly beside us, the world shrinking down to nothing but the slow, rhythmic glide of his hands over my skin.

Fingertips tracing circles on my hips.

The backs of my thighs.

The vulnerable curve of my spine.

Each touch anchoring me deeper into the space between us.

“You’re shaking,” Dominic murmurs after a while, his voice hoarse with concern.

“I’m fine,” I whisper back, but my body betrays me, shivering violently despite the heat of the fire and the thick quilt tangled around our legs.

Dominic makes a low sound deep in his chest, half-growl, half-soothing murmur.

Without a word, he eases out of me with agonizing gentleness, the sudden emptiness making me whimper before I can stop myself.

He shushes me quietly, sliding one arm under my knees, the other behind my shoulders, lifting me effortlessly against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he says, fierce and low.

Dominic carries me through the house, the long shadows of the fire flickering over the walls as he takes the stairs two at a time.

The cold air bites at my skin, exposed and flushed and raw, but it doesn’t touch me.

Not with his body wrapped around mine, sheltering me from everything but the way he feels—solid, immutable, mine.

At the top of the stairs, he nudges his bedroom door open with a shoulder, then crosses to the massive bed and sets me down with terrifying gentleness.

The covers are still rumpled from when he tucked me in earlier, the sheets faintly holding the ghost of his warmth .

Dominic kneels briefly, dragging the heavy quilt up over my naked body, tucking me in like something precious he’s not ready to let go of.

Without a word, he slides into the bed behind me, the mattress dipping under his weight.

An arm slings heavy around my waist, hauling me back against his chest, anchoring me in the circle of his body like he’s reeling me in against a tide.

I let out a shuddering breath, the last of my resistance bleeding away as he pulls me closer, his bare skin branding every inch of mine.

For a few seconds, he holds me.

Then, low and rough against the shell of my ear, he gives the only command I’ve been waiting for.

“Go to sleep.” His hand tightens at my waist, the weight of it an unspoken promise that he’s not done with me yet.

I close my eyes against the sting of sudden tears and let myself sink into him.

Reality seeps in as the adrenaline fades. This started as a business trip. Dominic is supposed to be a potential supplier, not a lover. The boundaries we've crossed can't be uncrossed, and the implications for my professional integrity are significant.

I don’t regret a thing. Whatever complications this creates, the connection between us feels too rare, too valuable to dismiss as a mere lapse in judgment.

As I drift toward sleep, my thoughts swirl.

Elation at this unexpected connection. Fear of its inevitable complications.

And beneath it all, a terrifying realization.

In three days, this gruff, passionate, complicated man somehow slipped past defenses I've maintained for years and cracked me wide open.

Whatever happens when the roads clear and reality intrudes, I will leave this mountain changed in ways I never anticipated. The question is whether those changes will strengthen or break me when I return to the world I've worked so hard to conquer.