Page 43 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)

Wren

The pale morning light spills in through the cracks of the heavy curtains, fractured rays slanting across Dominic’s dark bedroom. It’s quiet, and peaceful. Or it would be, if my mind wasn’t a turbulent storm of emotions I can’t even begin to untangle.

When Dominic came back to bed last night, he slid between my thighs and spent thirty minutes eating my pussy until I was soaked and shaking. He didn’t stop until I was begging for mercy, nearly incoherent as he forced four orgasms from my body.

I tried to fight it, tried to will my body not to give in. It was pointless, because Dom already knows my body better than I do. He knows exactly how to shatter me—over and over again—even as I was trying to build walls between us.

When he was finished, he wrapped me in his arms. He held me tight against his chest, and eventually the steady rhythm of his heart beat against my cheek, and the pleasurable high still lingering in my body had me drifting off to sleep with him.

I was lost in his warmth, cocooned in the safety of his embrace. It was a comfort that still felt foreign, like something I wasn’t meant to have, but he gave it to me anyway. Like he was trying to warm places inside of me I thought had died long ago .

Including the fractures of my fragile heart.

I want to stay here forever, protected in the illusion, like there isn’t grave danger looming just outside the door. Pretending I didn’t hear what I heard last night. Pretending I still believe there’s a future here with the man I’m developing serious feelings for.

But reality came with the rising sun, and I can’t ignore what’s right in front of me. A path paved with heartbreak, layered in promises of suffering that I no longer have the strength to endure. A world I’m not sure I’m strong enough to survive.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back the tears burning behind my lids, and turn until my face presses tightly against Dominic’s throat.

A sob rattles through me before I can stop it, and every muscle in his body goes tense as his arms cinch tighter around me.

His voice is a low rumble, thick with sleep. “What’s wrong, baby?”

I let myself cry, torn between the part of me that wants to stay, and the one that knows I need to leave if I’m ever going to figure this mess out.

“Baby, please. Tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” His willing devotion is another blade to the heart. It feels so good to be someone’s priority for once, and knowing I may have to walk away from it forever feels devastating on a soul-deep level.

“I’m getting a migraine,” I whisper, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.

He hugs me against his chest, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Do you have any abortive medication?”

I shake my head, momentarily stunned he even knows what that is. But of course he knows what that is. He’s my stalker, after all.

“What do you need?”

I wipe at my face, trying to pull myself together enough to do what needs to be done. “Just my painkillers and more time to sleep. Yesterday was… a lot for me.”

“Of course, baby,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers along my jaw. “Stay here, I’ll grab everything you need. I’ll ask one of my brothers to come take Hunter for his morning walk so I can stay in bed and hold you.”

“No,” I plead, fresh tears slipping free. “I can’t bear it if my illness takes time away from you and Hunter. I’ll just be sleeping, anyway. Please take him.”

Dominic presses the sweetest kiss to my forehead. “Alright, baby. I’ll be right back.”

I watch as he slides out of bed and disappears through the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, his hair messy in a way that makes him look more human, and less like an unrepentant murderer.

When he returns, he’s carrying a bottle of water, a black sleep mask, and my bottle of painkillers. Sitting down at the edge of the bed, he cracks the cap and hands the water over to me.

When I take it, he opens the pill bottle next and offers it without hesitation. I take what I pretend to need, swallowing them down with a stomach full of guilt.

Regret sits heavy in my gut like a stone as Dominic places everything neatly on the nightstand, then stands again. “I’m going to get you some food you can pick at while I’m out with Hunter. When I come back, I’ll make you whatever you’re craving.”

I offer him a sad smile—one I’m sure he thinks is from the migraine, not because I’m about to do the one thing he warned me never to do.

I’m going to run.

He grabs a pair of black sweatpants and a black long sleeved shirt, and pulls them on. He leaves the bedroom to head toward the kitchen.

My anxiety is through the roof. By the time he comes back, my hands are trembling. Thankfully, I can blame it on my fake migraine.

He rounds the bed with a plate in his hands and sets it down gently beside me. My heart hurts with the devotion he’s showing me, his readiness to drop everything and take care of me.

For a moment, I consider forgetting my plans to leave and giving him every single part of me: his to love, or his to destroy.

I chew my bottom lip. Surely someone capable of this kind of devotion and thoughtfulness wouldn’t kill me. Right?

The plate holds a fresh blueberry muffin, some grapes, an apple, a few slices of cheese, and a handful of trail mix. I smile up at him, my eyes glassy. “Thank you, Dom.”

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll be back in an hour.”

I nod, leaning in as he lowers himself to kiss me.

When he turns to leave the bedroom, I feel like I’m going to throw up. These conflicting emotions are turning my body into a war ground—fear and love battling for dominance, ripping me in two .

Fear, because there’s still so much unknown here. And I fought so hard to survive, not to fall victim to a monster wrapped in a beautiful package.

And love, because I’m falling hard for a man who’s more villain than hero, but treasures me like I’m his own personal heaven… the only one he may ever know.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my mind to go quiet. I can’t think straight with his scent all around me, with the silk of his sheets still warm from his body, and with my heart racing at the memory of his touch.

Laying back down, I pull the sheets up to my chin. I listen as the man I now know is a serial killer coos softly to his beloved dog, like he doesn’t have a hundred bodies buried beneath his name like a macabre tally.

How can both parts of him exist at the same time?

It takes him five minutes to get himself and Hunter ready, before I hear the front door open and close again as they leave.

I’m going to miss Hunter, too.

Sliding out from beneath the sheets, I move quickly through the house and peek out the living room window. I spot them disappearing down the street, heading toward the trail.

It’s now or never.

I sprint back to the bedroom, into the closet, and yank on a pair of dark jeans, a t-shirt, and one of Dominic’s black hoodies. I dress fast, grab my bottle of pills, my phone, and snatch the blueberry muffin from the plate before rushing to the front of the house .

My backpack is right where I left it next to the large entertainment center. I grab it and take it over to the coffee table. I do a quick inventory to make sure I have everything I need: medication, water, charger, a little bit of cash, and my ID.

Tears are already sliding silently down my flushed cheeks as I shoulder the bag, slip into my shoes, and unlock the door.

Before I step out, I glance both ways down the sidewalk. Dominic is nowhere to be seen. A mother walks by with her two kids. A few cars are parked along the curb. The neighborhood looks quiet and non-threatening.

Still, my pulse is erratic as I step outside, then close the door behind me. I pull my phone from my pocket and shut it down. I’ll turn it on when I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions.

I don’t look back as I hurry down the street, forcing myself to eat the muffin I brought for a little boost of energy.

I don’t look back as I find my way back to downtown Toronto, walking through streets I’ve memorized from years of surviving them.

And I don’t look back as, two hours later, I’m navigating the busy metropolitan city streets and crossing into places I’ve never been before.

My heart is hurting so deeply.

I’ve fallen right back into old patterns—just another homeless ghost drifting through a cold world, forgotten by a society that doesn’t care whether I live or die.

Another hour later, I finally make a plan. I’ll head north and find a ride to a smaller town. I’ve never hitchhiked before, but if I can reach a quiet park somewhere up north, I can watch the sunset while I go over everything: what I know, what I’ve learned, and what I feel.

The minute I start thinking about my phone, and the messages I’m certain are waiting for me, my anxiety spikes into a sharp, nauseating spiral. I duck into a narrow alley and throw up beside a rusted dumpster.

Once I rinse my mouth and take a sip of water, I keep walking. There’s no hiding anymore. It’s time to face who I ran from.

I pull my phone from my pocket and turn it back on. My pulse hammers, a lump rising in my throat as I open my chat with Dom.

DOMINIC

Bad.

Fucking.

Girl.

I stare at the words on the screen, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, as arousal burns unbidden inside of me. My breath hitches, and I feel my fingers twitch with the need to answer him .

Everything about him is magnetic. From the possessive way he touches me, to the filthy words he doesn’t hesitate to whisper in my ear.

I never knew this aspect of my personality existed, this raw sexuality suppressed by sickness and struggle, then awakened by the perfect man for me.

Perfect, aside from being a serial killer.

Damn it.

ME

I overheard you and your brothers last night, and I panicked. I’m scared.