Page 33 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)
Wren
“I know that your parents died, and you went into foster care, but I want to hear the details.”
I glance over at Dominic in surprise. He’s been mostly silent for the past twenty minutes while we walked Hunter along the quiet forest trail behind his home.
Hunter’s been off leash, his nose pressed to the ground, chasing smells and darting through underbrush like he’s having the time of his life.
The two times we passed other people, Dominic called him into heel. I was stunned by the way Hunter snapped into position, his golden brown eyes locked on Dominic, waiting for a release command.
It didn’t feel like forced obedience, it felt like devotion. It was beautiful to see.
Watching them out here together—man and dog, perfectly in sync—is peaceful. I feel honoured to be witness to something that seems so sacred. I’d been content enough to just observe their daily ritual, and learn what I could from the quiet they shared.
So when Dominic finally spoke, asking such a personal question, it surprised me .
“What do you want to know?” I ask, a whisper of a smile touching my lips.
My story isn’t a happy one, but he shared his pain with me earlier. It feels more than fair to share mine with him.
He keeps his gaze on Hunter as we walk, like he’s trying to spare me the full weight of that intense stare of his. “How did your mother die?”
“She had an inoperable brain tumor. She died in hospice about six months after diagnosis,” I explain, running my hands up and down my forearms. I’m warm in the oversized sweatshirt Dominic gave me before we left the house, but the memory of my mom’s passing never fails to bring a chill with it.
“I’m sorry.”
I nod, a sad smile on my face. “Thank you. She was an amazing woman. She loved books, and tea, and soft blankets. She was the epitome of a quiet, cozy life.” I pause, my throat tightening as I embrace my grief. “My dad loved her so much. It destroyed him when she died.”
I chance a glance at Dom, and the look in his eyes tells me he would be destroyed if he lost his brothers. I can tell just the thought of it upsets him.
“What happened to your dad?”
The grief washes over me again, a fresh sadness settling into my heart when I remember the day he died.
To my surprise, Hunter wanders over. He falls into step beside me, bumping my leg with gentle nudges like he can sense my sadness. Like he’s saying: I’m here .
I reach down to stroke behind his big, soft ears, and he looks up at me with the most soulful eyes. He’s a healer, this one. I’m sure of it.
“Her death broke him. I think he died with her that day,” I say sadly, thinking back to the terrible scream my dad let out when he realized she was truly gone. “I wasn’t enough for him to stay. He ended up drinking himself to death right there in our family home.”
Dominic says nothing, like he’s lost in thought. I look down at my hands, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, the fabric soft beneath my fingers.
“One night I woke up in the middle of a migraine attack. I was starving, my stomach hurt so much. I went downstairs to try and find food…” My voice wavers, transported back to that night. I almost can't finish. “And I found him dying on the couch from liver failure.”
Dominic stops walking, reaching out to grab my hand. I gasp when he pulls me into his arms, and I stumble against him. My hands land on his chest, my head tilting back to look up at him.
“You’ll never experience starvation again. Do you understand me? Never. Again.”
A blush creeps up my neck, the warmth of his body chasing away the cold of the awful memories.
A moment passes between us, and I realize just how serious he is. How strongly he feels about my well-being. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it .
“Tell me you understand,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine in a tender kiss that feels so much like a vow. “Tell me.”
“I—I understand,” I whisper.
He kisses me like I’m an oasis and he’s been lost in the desert for years.
When I first met Dominic, I thought he’d be all rough edges—selfish, ruthless, the kind of man who takes without asking and never bothers to give anything back.
And yet every time he kisses me, it completely wrecks that image. There’s so much sensuality in the way his mouth moves against mine, it feels like I’m being worshipped with every stroke of his tongue.
Every time his lips touch me, the rest of the world goes quiet. My thoughts scatter, my knees go weak, and all I can do is cling to him like he’s gravity itself.
When he finally pulls back, I’m flushed and breathless. This man’s mouth is a weapon.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, then he releases me and continues walking down the trail, as if he didn’t just shatter me with a kiss and the perfect kind of praise.
“How long were you in foster care?”
It takes me a solid minute for my mind to come back from where it went floating through the clouds. I jog to catch up with him, and when I do, he reaches out to take my hand in his.
His fingers thread through mine like we’ve done this a hundred times, like it’s the most natural thing in the world .
I stare down at our clasped hands. The simplicity of it catches me off guard. We’re just walking down a forest trail, holding hands… it’s almost like he’s my boyfriend.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “A little under a year.”
“Were they good to you?”
His eyes stay fixed on the path ahead, watching as Hunter chases a squirrel up a tree, but I can feel the silent threat behind his words.
I hesitate for a moment, wondering what he’d do if my foster home had been abusive like his was.
He killed a stranger who tried to take my life in the middle of the city, where anyone could’ve seen him. What would he do with a little time, a little planning, and a list of names of the people that hurt me?
The thought makes me shiver.
“They didn’t hurt me,” I say with a shrug. “They mostly ignored me, and made me do a lot of the house work, while they collected their check from the government.”
Hunter lets out several sharp barks, the squirrel now perched on a branch with its tail twitching in irritation. I smile as I watch the interaction, Hunter’s tail swishing like he’s proud of himself.
Abandoning the very threatening squirrel, Hunter takes a turn that looks like it leads us back home. Dominic mentioned we were taking a smaller loop in the trail system, and Hunter probably knows these paths by heart.
“So… you do this ev ery day?” I ask.
Dominic nods. “Ryker’s busy running Blood Siphon most of the time, but he shows up to take care of Hunter as often as the other two. Sometimes they fight over who gets to take him for a long hike, or for a jog out here in the woods.”
“Hunter is so loved,” I say, mostly to myself, as I watch the big, happy-go-lucky German Shepherd trot ahead of us like he doesn’t have a single worry in the world.
After another twenty minutes spent in surprisingly comfortable silence, we make it back home.
As soon as he opens the front door, Hunter trots inside and drinks deeply from his bowl. Then he curls up on his bed with a long, satisfied sigh.
Dominic places Hunter’s well-worn leather collar with its matching leash on a hook next to the whiteboard by the door. Once Hunter’s gear is put away, he turns to me with his hand extended.
A blush creeps across my cheeks. I hesitate for a few seconds, then slide my hand into his. “Where are we going?”
“I need a shower before we head out to the club.” He leads me through the spacious bungalow, into the bedroom and straight to the bathroom.
I’m still blushing when he releases my hand to turn on the water in his shower, spacious and sleek, and easily large enough for two.
When he turns back, he steps into my space and crowds me. My heart begins to race as he looks down at me with an intensity that has my lips parting as my breath becomes a little uneven .
“Did… did you want me to wait in the bedroom?” I ask, my voice so quiet it’s barely louder than a whisper.
He shakes his head.
I feel like I’m running a fever as I watch him reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, and tossing it into the laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom.
He breathes deeply, and my eyes shamelessly roam his powerful chest. His abdominal muscles are something out of a fitness magazine. His work out routine must be intense.
He steps into me, closing the distance between us. One of his heavily inked arms snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against his rock solid body.
“I love how soft your body feels against mine,” he confesses, his voice gravelly with lust.
I’ve never been confident with my body, so his words make my blush deepen. Between being predisposed to chubbiness when I’m not starving, and stretch marks from a lifetime of rapid weight fluctuations, I’m not exactly the picture perfect model I imagine men as gorgeous as Dominic attract.
As if he can sense my disbelief, he pulls my body harder against his, until I feel the rigid length of his hard cock between us. “You’re beautiful, Wren,” he says pointedly. “I don’t deserve you at all, but I’m a greedy bastard, and I won’t let you go.”
My head tilts back as I look up into his eyes. All I find is sincerity, and it makes my heart ache.
He leans down, his mouth finding my throat. He kisses me there, his lips brushing across my fluttering pulse .
My knees weaken as lust brews inside of me like a violent storm, threatening to once again steal every bit of my questionable sanity.
His mouth leaves a hot trail from my throat to my jaw, until his hand grips my face and forces our mouths together in a sensual clash.
His kiss is drugging, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to stroke against my own. I melt against him, dizzy from the feel of his huge, powerful body pressed against mine. He’s overwhelming, overpowering, and dangerously seductive.
I didn’t think I had a type before now, but Dominic is it for me.