Page 62 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner
He’s everywhere.
Filling me.
Claiming me.
Breaking me down to nothing but gasps and sobs and mindless, desperate need.
Dominic growls low, the sound vibrating straight down my spine. His fingers flex at my hip, gripping harder, bruising, branding, each stroke harder than the last.
“God, look at you,” he grits, voice rough and wrecked. “So fucking perfect like this. Taking me.”
I sob, wrecked by the crude, devastating beauty of his words, the relentless, brutal rhythm of his body hammering into mine.
Savage pleasure builds deep in my core, tightening harder and harder with every brutal thrust. Dominic yanks my headback further, forcing my gaze up to him.
The firelight turns him into something unholy—wild, untamed, beautiful in the most dangerous way possible.
His teeth bare in a snarl of raw hunger as he looks down at me—at the way I tremble for him, at the tears streaking hot down my cheeks, at the way my body clutches desperately at his cock like it never wants to let go.
His voice rips from him, rough and merciless:
“Come for me.”
Chapter 16
Dominic’s commanddetonates inside me like a grenade, shattering whatever fragile control I had left.
Pleasure explodes through me, violent and blinding, ripping a hoarse scream from deep inside my chest as my body convulses around him. Nothing like that has ever happened before. Not to me. But something about his command…
It does something to my mind. Opens a part of me I never knew existed, a part that desires to please and obey.
Dominic curses viciously, his hips slamming hard one final time as he buries himself deep and follows me over the edge, growling low and broken against my skin as he empties himself inside me with brutal, claiming shudders.
Dominic still doesn’t stop. Not when my body jerks and trembles through the last savage pulses of my orgasm. Not when I whimper, wrecked and gasping, crushed between his body and the rough floor.
He stays buried inside me, so deep I swear I can feel his heartbeat pounding against my own, the thick length of him still throbbing with every broken breath he drags into his lungs.
His hand stays tangled in my hair, his fingers tight and unrelenting, keeping my head tipped back so I can’t look away from him.
His other hand slides from my hip to my ass, gripping me harder, lifting me higher onto his cock like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold me tight enough.
The possessiveness in him is brutal. It sears through every nerve ending I possess, branding me as his in a language older than words.
“You’re not done,” he rasps, voice torn and guttural against my mouth.
His hips jerk, grinding into me, and I sob again, the overstimulated nerves of my body firing wildly at the renewed pressure.
I’m shaking so hard I can’t think, can’t breathe, but Dominic doesn’t give me a second to recover. Doesn’t give me the mercy of time.
The world dissolves into heat, sound, and pressure. Into the desperate, relentless slap of his hips against my thighs. Into the bruising grip of his hands, the punishing scrape of his teeth dragging down my throat.
He mutters something raw and filthy against my skin—something about how good I feel, how tight, how he’s never fucking letting me go. But the words melt into the roar in my head before I can catch them.
I sob, overwhelmed, overstimulated, and shattered into a million pieces.
And still, he doesn’t stop.
Pleasure rises again, savage and blinding.
