Page 75 of Their Domme

“I didn’t realize,” I said softly, forcing myself to focus my scattered thoughts.

“Realize what?” she asked, her hands coming to rest on my shoulders as she shifted, getting comfortable.

My hands ran up her hips to her sides, loving the feel of her warm flesh against my rough hands. “That I always called you on the anniversary of my wife’s death.”

Nicholette shrugged after a beat of silence. “That’s not the only time you would reach out, but you did reach out at that time every year without fail, which makes sense. Sometimes pain is easier to bear when you share some of it with someone else.”

I reached up and cupped her face with one hand, forcing her to look at me while I said this next part. “You did wonderfully, no matter when I called you. Most people wouldn’t have kept in touch or asked for me, yet you always did. It never made sense to me why you would be interested in someone like me. Outside of the money, obviously.”

Nicholette hummed, a spark of amusement in her eyes and her smile. “The person closest to my age is probably Oli or Bodhi. Everyone else in this arrangement is older than me by a lot, though don’t tell Sacha that. He gets a little prickly about the old man jokes.” Her good humor faded a bit as a more serious expression took over her face. “But age is just a number, Ansel, and it’s not really that important. Not for people like us.”

“Then what is?” I asked. She reached up and started to run her fingers over my short beard, looking contemplative.

“Pain. Trauma. All that fun bullshit that made us bend and break, forcing us to put ourselves back together into the people we are now. Anyone else would look at my past and try tosaveme. As if I need their pity or saving.” She rolled her eyes at that. “We don’t want to be saved, Ansel. Both of us embraced the darkness when life threw us into it, and we aren’t afraid to run into it when it’s necessary. Everyone I’m with… We are all like that.”

“You don’t want to change me? Make me a better man?” I asked, half joking. But in truth, I needed to hear her say it, to know beyond a shadow of doubt that it wasmeshe wanted, not some twisted fantasy I’d never be able to fulfill.

Nicholette didn’t laugh. She just tilted her head before trailing her hand down my neck to my chest. “Why would I want to save you, Ansel? I like the man you are and the killer you were made to be. I have no use for good men because I have no intention of being a good woman.”

I didn’t have a response for that. Not many people could make me feel this way, but Nicholette did. Usually, I knew exactly what to say and what others were thinking, but right now, as I studied her, I wasn’t sure, and I’d be damned if that wasn’t intriguing.

“You always manage to keep me guessing, Liebling.”

“I’d hate to be boring,” she quipped. “But there’s also something I don’t understand. Why me? I’ve been with… Well, it’s not an exaggeration to say I’ve fucked most of the people in your family. I’m dating seven other men, including one of your good friends. You’re still in love with your dead wife. Why are you pushing this with me?”

Straight for the jugular.

“I loved Iris, and I still love her. She was my wife and the mother of my children,” I replied, my voice rough with the grief that had never faded. “That won’t ever change for me. I don’t know if I could love anyone else like that, but you make me feel again. When she died, she took part of me with her and I’ve never been the same. I’m sure Blake and Emmerich would agree with that assessment. I was more than broken…I shattered.”

Nicholette didn’t say anything, but when I searched her face, she had no pity in her gaze, just patience as if she knew I had more to say. I traced random designs on her skin, loving the way her muscles tensed and relaxed in reaction to my touch.

“But when I’m around you… You don’t look at me like you’re afraid of what I’ll do. You’re not scared when I walk into a room or go on the defensive, bracing yourself as if I’m the villain in your story. And when you call me to bitch about killers in horror movies, I actually relax as I listen to your critiques. You make melaugh, Liebling. I haven’t laughed in a very long time.”

“That’s because the screenwriters don’t know what they’re doing,” she joked, a small smile on her face. She loosely wrapped her arms around my neck, her black hair falling around us. Her gaze was serious as she studied me, turning over my confessions. It wasn’t everything that needed to be said, but it was a start. “So, you want to be with me, in this insane arrangement, with no promises of love between us?”

“You sound so hopeful.” A smile tugged at my lips as I closed the space between us, unable to keep away from the soft skin so close to me. I brushed my lips across the top of her breasts, envious of the lace that kept her from fully being on display for me. I stopped when I felt something rough and leaned back just enough to realize that Sacha’s name was now carved into her skin. Selfishly, I wished I had my own claim to her body, but that was jumping the gun way too fast. But, hell, even the passing thought was intoxicating, stirring my darker desires. “Most people want love.”

“Love is not a requirement to be with me,” she gasped, her back arching into my touch when I started to trace the other man’s name with my tongue. “I’m not perfect. I can’t evenseeperfect from where I’m standing. But you have to get along with the others, at least somewhat, and there has to be trust. It’s not just about me anymore though, so maybe I’ll need more in the future… for them.”

“Twins,” I breathed, and my dick, which was already hard thanks to her proximity, throbbed at the mental image of her swollen belly. “You’re going to be fucking gorgeous.”

“I’m going to look like a beached whale,” she complained with a heavy sigh. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you liked that thought. I swear, if you and Maks both threaten to keep me pregnant for all the extra curves, I’ll lose my mind and you’ll lose your dicks.”

The mention of the other man should have stirred jealousy in me, I expected it to, but I laughed instead. “I’ll help him tamper with your birth control so we can pump you full of cum at every opportunity, Liebling. Breasts full and heavy, softness in every damn curve. I’ll make you beg for me to fill you up before I let you come on my cock. And don’t try to deny it because we both know if I checked right now, I’d find your pussy wet as hell.”

“Maybe you should check just in case you’re wrong,” she taunted even as her hips ground against my cock through my slacks.

“You want sex? Tell me what you’re thinking. No questions or redirections.” I reached around and unsnapped her bra, my mouth watering when her breasts spilled free. “You can choose to let me past your walls, or I’ll tear them apart for the fun of it, Liebling. So what will it be? We both know I love tearing people apart piece by piece.”

“Do your worst, old man.”

God, she’s perfect.

* * *

Nicholette

Friday

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