Page 29 of Until You Break

I want to trace them, feel each line beneath my fingertips, feel that pulse under his skin, feel what it would be like to have his warmth pressed up against me, close enough to make me forget everything outside of him.

A flush rises in my cheeks, warmth spreading through me as my mind drifts, lingering on the way he felt so close, the way his eyes held me captive, like he was daring me to push him away, daring me to see him for what he is and still want him.

And damn it, I do. I want him in a way that feels reckless, in a way that sends a thrill through me, heat pooling low in my belly, making me restless, needy, caught up in memories and fantasies that I know won’t go anywhere good.

But I can’t stop. I don’t want to.

I slip my hand in between my thighs and gasp when I feel how wet I am. Swirling my fingers over my sensitive clit, I arch my back from the bed and think of the one person I shouldn’t… not with this ring on my finger.

I think about his rough hands on me, how it would feel if he slipped his hand around my throat and squeezed until I nearly lose consciousness. How it would feel with him on top of me, fucking me hard and making me scream his name.

“Dominic…” I moan, coming so hard that white spots are dancing in front of my eyes. I can almost smell his scent, feel him as if he were here with me.

But as I come down from my high, my mind flashes to Mason and I feel sick to my stomach.

Chapter twenty-one

His Sinner

It’s the last nightof the trip Mason wanted so badly, the vacation he planned for us to “reconnect,” to “unwind” together. We’ve been at this beach house for days, and I should be relaxed, calm, ready to sink into the life Mason wants to build with me.

But instead, I feel like a spring wound too tight and barely holding it together.

It’s not even Mason’s fault. He’s been everything he always is—attentive, considerate, completely oblivious to the fact that every time he touches me, I have to force myself to respond, to smile, to act like I’m here.

Even when we’re fucking, I’m somewhere else, somewhere dark and twisted where Dominic’s hands are the ones I feel, where his voice is the one pulling me under.

It’s like Mason can’t even tell; he doesn’t notice the way I fake it, the way I bite my lip and hide how my mind keeps straying to a shadowed figure with green eyes that burn through every thought I have.

Mason’s in the living room, taking a call he couldn’t avoid, pacing back and forth while I walk to the bathroom, pulling out my hair tie as I go. I close the door, trying to shake the tension, trying to remind myself that Dominic isn’t here, that whatever I think I feel isn’t real. He’s not coming. He doesn’t even know where we are.

I flip on the light, grabbing my toothbrush and trying to ignore the whirlwind in my head. I focus on the repetitive motion of brushing my teeth, the bristles scraping against my teeth filling the small space.

It’s routine, mundane. Safe.

I reach for the glass and fill it up before I glance up at the mirror, expecting my own tired reflection. Instead, my blood runs cold.

Dominic is behind me.

Leaning casually against the shower door, arms crossed over his chest, dressed head-to-toe in black. His eyes gleam with predatory amusement, and that familiar smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth like he’s been standing there the whole time, waiting for me to notice.

My hand slips, and the glass of water tumbles from my fingers, shattering against the marble and sending shards into the sink.

“Shit!” I gasp, whirling around and stumbling back, pressing myself against the cool countertop. “Dominic?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, just tilts his head slightly, his green eyes drinking me in like I’m some prey he’s been stalking for days. Then, he chuckles, the sound rolling through the small space.

I reach for the bathroom door instinctively, slamming it shut and locking it with shaking fingers. My heart hammers in my chest, and I back up against the sink, gripping the counter for balance.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound strong.

“Missed you, Little Sinner,” he says, voice mocking. “Thought I’d drop by.”

I shake my head, the anger bubbling up, mixing with the thrill of seeing him here.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I say, my voice rising. “You can’t just show up whenever the hell you feel like it. We—” I pause, shaking my head. “We both need to move on.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing out there with him?” He nods toward the door, his smirk deepening. “Moving on?”

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