Page 27 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)

Wren

It’s his heart beat that wakes me. Strong and steady beneath my fingertips, where my hand is splayed across his chest. The rhythm soothes me.

There’s a cold breeze ghosting across my back, but it can’t rival the heat radiating off Dominic’s body where I lay nestled in his arms.

I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt this safe, at least not since I was a child. I don’t want this moment to end. I don’t want to open my eyes and face the wreckage of my life. If I could stay here in his arms forever, I would.

But all good things must end.

When I finally open my eyes, I’m greeted by the morning light cresting the horizon. It dances across the surface of the park’s pond, rippling gold and pale blue over the still water.

When I look up at Dominic, he’s watching me with his dark forest gaze.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep and… stay asleep all night.” My voice is tranquil, like the dawn light spilling over his face. It catches in his eyes, turning them to molten emerald .

He lifts his hand to brush the hair away from my face, his fingers tracing my jaw with a gentleness I haven’t felt since my mother was alive. “Don’t be. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He must be incredibly stiff right now, it looks like he hasn’t moved at all through the night.

I try to sit up so I can crawl off his lap and sit beside him in the grass, but his arms tighten, refusing to let me go.

He’s holding me like it’s his life’s purpose. “Why me?” I whisper, gazing up at him.

The ghost of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, like the question amuses him. “When you fell into me at the clinic, you found safety in my arms. You trusted me, you took comfort in my touch. It was the first time someone, other than my brothers, looked at me as anything other than a threat.”

I can’t relate to being seen as dangerous, but I can definitely relate to being labeled by the world and not being able to escape it—as hard as I may try.

Dominic has never tried to hide who he is from me. He’s never apologized for killing the man that tried to take my life. He’s made no apologies for stalking me, either.

“You are a threat,” I tease, smiling up at him and hoping he hears the humor in my voice, not the undercurrent of unease.

His smile mirrors mine, and I let out a quiet breath of relief. “Never to you,” he starts, before the smile fades. “Unless you try to run from me again.”

“I wasn’t really running. I just wanted you to chase me. ”

That brings the smile back to his face. “I know.” He leans down and presses his lips to mine in a sensual kiss, his tongue sweeping along my lower lip before pulling away.

“Who knew I was so into the crazy stalker type,” I tease.

His smile is radiant; his straight, white teeth gleaming in the morning light. “We are perfect for each other.”

“I know you’re… different, but you never made me feel like I was in any real danger.”

His brow, marked by a freshly healed scar, lifts in amusement. “Just because I’d never kill you, doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you. I will hurt you, Wren, I’ll just make sure you come while you cry for me.”

His smile deepens at the shock on my face, which quickly turns to a blush as my pulse thrums to life. The one between my legs, that is. Awakened by the memory of him giving me the greatest orgasm of my life. Something I didn’t even know was possible. Not to that extreme, anyway.

“Who knew you were so romantic.”

It pulls a laugh from him, sharp and sudden, and I like the way it lights up his face.

“I am many things, little lamb, just don’t forget that I’m not a hero.”

I study him for a moment, his expression serious now, like he’s expecting me to remember he’s a murderer and go running for my life. Maybe I should, that’s probably what a normal, sane person would do. But nothing about me or my life is normal.

And it’s been a long time since I meant anything to anyone .

“You’re the only one that looks at me like I’m not worthless. When you look at me, you really see me. You don’t look through me, or hope that I just… go away.”

I can’t hide the pain in my voice, and I can’t stop it from reflecting in my eyes. I fight back the urge to tear up, the sadness mixing with shame.

It’s not easy exposing the ugly parts of me to a man like him.

Dominic’s gaze narrows, and something dark and unrecognizable flickers in his expression. It vanishes before I can name it.

“You belong to me now, Wren. Your days of struggling through life alone are over.”

I smile at him, but it’s a sad one. He sees it instantly, and this time I can understand the emotion he’s feeling: frustration.

I reach up, cupping his face with my hand. “You’ll get bored of me. I won’t be mad when you’re ready to move on.”

“I need you to keep one foot in reality,” he says evenly, his voice dangerously low, like he’s trying to keep himself calm. “If you think I’m ever letting you go, you’re going to struggle through this transition.”

Transition? My confusion must be written all over my face, but he doesn’t make any effort to elaborate. I shake my head slowly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re moving in with me.”

Is that a joke?

“I’m literally a chronically ill homeless girl with no job,” I tell him, my voice a little on the hysterical side, because he’s acting like he’s forgotten everything he knows about me. “I’m nothing but a burden. You’re crazy to want me as a roommate.”

He can’t be serious. Especially knowing that I can’t contribute to anything until I find a job. Which has proven to be nearly impossible lately.

“You aren’t homeless anymore, because my bed is where you belong.” His voice is so steady, so firm, that I find myself speechless when confronted by it. “I want this transition to go smoothly. I wanted to be patient and ease you into it. But I can’t do that anymore.”

“I don’t understand.” The first threads of fear slither down my spine, coiling tight.

“You’re coming with me, little lamb. I’m taking you home. Right now.”

“I can’t accept that,” I protest, my voice catching. “As generous as it is, Dom, I can’t live off you. I can’t even help with bills. And we don’t—” I swallow. “We don’t know each other well enough to live together and—”

He shakes his head, silencing me. “I know that you’re mine. You know that you feel safe with me. You’ll learn everything else pretty quickly with us living together.”

I press my hands to his chest and try to shift off his lap, but he tightens his grip.

Instead of letting me go, he shifts my body upright and draws my legs around his hips. Now I’m straddling him, trapped in the cage of his arms.

“You won’t be paying any bills,” he says. “And you won’t buy a single thing unless it’s with my credit card. ”

My eyes widen.

“You can’t be serious, Dom. That sounds like… a marriage agreement.”

“We will eventually get married, yes.”

My pulse stutters. This is insane. I try in earnest to get off of his lap, but he makes it very clear that he’s not about to let me go.

One of his arms drops away, reaching into his pocket. What he pulls out makes my blood run cold.

In his hand, a loaded hypodermic needle.

“You are not about to drug me, Dom. I swear to God, I’ll scream.”

“You can scream, and you can fight, but the only thing it will do is get anyone who sees us killed. If you won’t come willingly, then I’ll take you by force. I warned you, Wren.”

I search his eyes, desperate for some flicker of mercy, some hint that this is a joke. I find nothing but conviction.

My body begins to tremble in his arms, the terror gripping me in a chokehold.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Wren. Not like this,” he murmurs, trying to soothe me through the panic.

“I’m going to take care of you, but to keep you safe, I need you with me.

Your life has been nothing but struggle after struggle, and the thought of you sleeping in a shelter…

or on the street… for even one more night?

” His jaw clenches, and his eyes darken.

“It makes me want to set the whole fucking city on fire.”

I stare at him, shell-shocked and shaking like a leaf, my breath catching in erratic, panicked bursts .

It’s too much, and far too fast. I feel like I can’t breathe, the sensation elevated by the way my heart is pounding fiercely in my chest.

These cat and mouse games we’ve been playing have been fun. Being the center of his possessive fixation has made me feel real for the first time in nearly a decade, but this—moving in with him—it feels so final. So permanent. Terrifying, because it feels like I don’t have a choice.

I don’t know what to do, or what to say. If I run, he’ll catch me. Do I even want to run? I should. I should want to run.

He’s safety. He’s protection. He wants to take care of me. He’s got a needle in his hand with the intention to drug me. He killed someone to save my life. He wants me to live with him. He says I belong to him. He warned me that he’s not a hero. He already feels like home.

My mind is racing, my thoughts a jumbled mess. My vision tunnels, the edges darkening as the panic attack runs through me full steam.

I’m shaking violently in his arms, and the tears I’ve been fighting slip free and leave wet trails down my cheeks.

He leans forward, his lips brushing across my skin, and he kisses his way along the salty line streaking down my face.

He pulls away, then uncaps the needle with his teeth. He holds my gaze as he turns his head just enough to spit the plastic out onto the grass beside us. It vanishes into the greenery, lost to the pale light of daybreak.

“Close your eyes, little lamb. When you wake up, you’ll be warm and safe in my bed. Let me take your fear away. ”

A noisy sob escapes me, my chest jerking from the force of it, but I squeeze my eyes shut.

I’m so tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of starving and tired of feeling like death is my only option.

I let the phantom of the safety he promises wrap around me like a blanket.

He presses a gentle kiss to my throat. “That’s it, little lamb. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to make everything better.”

When the warmth of his lips vanish, I feel the bite of the needle at my vein.

The tears keep falling, but I don’t open my eyes. I can’t look at him and see the truth, whatever it may be. What’s done is done, and there’s no going back now.

I’m letting go. It’s easier now that the choice is out of my hands.

He pulls me tighter against his chest, his arms wrapping around me and holding me like I’m sacred to him. I bury my face beneath his chin and quietly cry as heat begins to bloom through my bloodstream.

A rattled breath escapes me as the drug forces my central nervous system to calm down.

He saved my life. He eased my suffering. He gave me pleasure when all I knew was pain. I want him to be my hero, and all I can do now is hope he means everything he says. Hope that he isn’t going to torture and kill me now that he has me right where he wants me .

“You have me now, baby,” he murmurs, rocking me gently in his arms. “You’re mine. I’ll keep you safe.”

I’ll keep you safe.

The words echo through me, looping through the darkness, until a heavy fog descends and fills my head. It feels like drowning, but instead of panic and pain, all I feel is warmth and comfort as the storm inside of me becomes blissfully quiet.