Page 64 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner
I bury my face against him and nod, too wrecked, too full, too his to say anything else.
And in the quiet dark, wrapped in his brutal, broken embrace, I fall into the first real sleep I’ve known in years.
When I wake, Dominic’s arm is locked around my waist, his chest molded to my back, each slow breath stirring the loose strands of my hair. His weight presses me deep into the mattress of blankets and skin, grounding me even as my pulse kicks wildly against the confines of my ribs.
For a moment,everything is still.
Then I feel it?—
The thick, heavy length of him, hard and ready, grinding against the curve of my ass.
The tightening of his hold.
The low, rumbling growl vibrating from his chest into the fragile bones of my spine.
There’s no warning. No soft words. Just Dominic shifting his hips and thrusting deep into me in one brutal, devastating stroke that steals the air from my lungs.
I cry out, my body clenching tight around him, instinctive, helpless.
He shudders out a breath against the back of my neck, fisting a brutal hand in my hair and yanking my head back so sharply I gasp. His mouth skims the tender underside of my jaw, a brutal scrape of stubble and teeth, before he speaks.
“Good morning,” he growls, voice rough velvet, dark and wrecked with need.
All I can do is feel the blistering stretch of him pounding into me. The harsh drag of my gasps fills the heavy air. The iron grip of his hand anchors me in place, hips slamming against mine with savage, unrelenting force.
Dominic rides me mercilessly, thrust after thrust. My body arches helplessly into his punishing rhythm, caught in the undertow of a pleasure so raw it borders on pain.
His hand leaves my hair only to slide down my front, finding my clit with brutal precision. Two fingers rub hard and fast, matching the savage tempo of his hips.
I’m already close—too close?—
The orgasm hits with punishing violence, ripping through me so hard I sob his name into the blankets.
Dominic groans low in his chest, thrusts deep once more, and spills inside me with a broken, vicious snarl, his body shuddering against mine.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the crackling of the fire, the harsh slap of ourbreathing, and the heavy, shaking weight of him blanketing me, as if he’s still trying to bury himself deeper inside my body.
Then, slowly, he softens his hold.
One big hand smoothes down my trembling stomach, the other still braced in my hair like he’s not ready to let go.
He stays inside me. Wrapped around me. Breathing me in like he can’t bear the thought of even an inch of space between us.
“How do you feel?” he asks, his voice low and rough against my ear, each word scraping across my skin like sandpaper and silk.
For a second, I can’t answer. I can’t even think. I’m too full of him, too wrecked, my body still trembling from the force of what just happened.
I close my eyes, letting the heat of him soak into my battered, boneless limbs, the steady thump of his heart against my back anchoring me to the world.
When I finally find my voice, it’s a broken whisper.
“Ruined,” I breathe, my throat raw, my mouth tasting like fire and him. “In the best possible way.”
I feel the rough scrape of his smile against the side of my neck before he presses his mouth there, the kiss too soft to match the brutal claiming that came before it.
His arms tighten around me, one large palm splaying low over my belly, holding me flush against his chest like he can’t stand the idea of letting me go.
His cock still rests deep inside me, softening slowly, but he doesn’t move to pull out.
