Page 283 of Phobia
He studies me for a moment, but he won’t see past my poker face, not when it comes to this. “I do,” he finally admits.
Relief. It flows through me, calming my fear, and my body relaxes. I just took back some control. I can do this.
Dom keeps me pressed against him, gently teasing at the lace between my thighs but not touching the burning flesh beneath. It’s like he thinks my body needs convincing and is making it desperate for more.
If only he knew my body’s already sold. It’s my head that’s going to be the problem.
The car pulls up to a driveway, electric gates slowly open, and my nerves kick in. Attempting to defeat them, I raise an eyebrow at Dom. “Electric gates?”
We’re still in Camden Town, which is bloody expensive, but even the plushest of houses tend to be street-facing so the rich can show everyone how the other half lives.
Not here, though.
Dom leans against my ear, his teeth grazing the lobe and sending waves of shivers down my spine. “I protect what’s mine.”
I turn to face him, creating some distance between his lips and my skin, but the primal look in his eyes pulls me closer. Never have I wanted to be so owned. So completely consumed.
A tap at the window gets my attention, and then the cool night air flows through my hair, but Dom’s jacket shields the rest of me.
Dom holds me tight as he twists us both and steps out of the car, placing my feet on the ground. A slight wobble as I walk has him pulling me close, guiding me towards the door of a three-story home, which is way too much for one man.
Discretely, I reach for his left hand and glide my finger across it. I already clocked that he wasn’t wearing a wedding band, and I can’t feel the tell-tale indent that remains when a ring’s been removed. Still, houses this big can hide many secrets, and rich men can afford more than one woman.
“You’re like a moving statue.” Dom’s warm breath brushes against my ear, snapping me to attention. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I were afraid of you.” Breathing deeply, I watch as Dom opens the door.
Guiding me inside, he slams the door closed and pushes me against the wall, the shock and speed causing me to gasp. “Do you make a habit of going home with a man you’ve just met, Naomi?”
His eyes narrow as he presses his body into mine, engulfing me in the warmth that almost distracts me from how pissed off I am by his question.
“Do you make a habit of bringing home a womanyou’vejust met, Dom?” I retort, holding his gaze.
He grins, his tongue slowly sliding out before he grips my bottom lip with his teeth and sucks it into his mouth.
My entire body moves closer with the action like he’s pulling all of me in; the noise in my head is blocked out by my racing heart. It won’t last. It never does. Fear doesn’t leave when it resides in your soul, and distraction, whatever form it comes in, is always short-lived.
Lust flows through my entire body, settling in my eyes which are focused on Dom’s. His grip on me tightens, and he pulls me away from the wall. “It doesn’t matter what you do. After tonight, all you’ll think of is me.”
Tonight. That’s all this is. One night to ruin me, not make me his.
It’s better that way.
I slip off my shoes before we reach the stairs, not trusting that I’ll stay upright with the speed Dom drags me along. Taking no notice of pictures or décor, I stare at his back, watching his muscles tense against his white shirt, feeling myself getting wetter with each step.
When we reach the top, Dom turns and pulls me flush to his body as his lips claim mine. I moan into his mouth and tilt my pelvis to meet his, grinding against his hard cock.
There’s no stopping this now, so I push down the fear waiting to ruin everything, finding my strength in his.
“Want you so fucking bad,” he murmurs against my lips before picking me up and carrying me down the hall.
He shoves a door open, and within seconds, I’m on the bed, legs spread wide. Dom quickly fills the space and grinds against me as his hands find the straps of my dress. Sliding the thin fabric down, his hot tongue finds the breast he released, immediately going to work.
“That feels good,” I moan, grinding against him, the heat of his mouth setting my body alight.
“I’m not even getting started.”
The weight of his body no longer crushes me as he rises and slides off the bed. Dragging me to the edge by my ankles, his hands glide up my legs and body. Removing my dress, he tosses it across the room, and then his fingers hook each side of my knickers as he pulls them down.
