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Authors: Lena Black

BOOK: A Dominant Man
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I rise and fall sluggishly, watching his wrenched face as I cloak him. He guides my hips in a circular motion, g
yrating his beneath me, hugging me about the waist, holding me down onto his rapturous cock. I lean my face into his neck and lick his Adams apple. Low animalistic growls emit from deep within his throat, vibrating my tongue, shooting straight to my core. He lifts me up, almost extracting himself completely, and his ravenous, pouty mouth claims my erect nipple. His tip is barely inside me, floating about my entrance, causing my unyielding desire for his possession to bubble over. The feeling’s exquisite.

He nips softly and drags his teeth along my sensitive nipples, extracting me from his warm mouth. He thrusts his hips and plunges me back onto him with remarkable force. I let out a loud cry of pleasure and pain from receiving him rapidly. He removes himself and slams me back onto him, hitting my pleasure zone again and again. Damian’s solid cock pounds veraciously with concentrated, unwavering blows. I keep time with him while grinding and thrashing my hips into his rough drives. Our breathing is harsh, bodies dripping in a cold sweat, grunting with each thrust.

Hunt slithers his thumb onto my throbbing clit and gently strokes in a window wiper motion. I coil and tense, every muscle clenching tighter as the orgasm builds. I can’t hold on any longer, and we come undone, calling out one another’s names, clinging desperately to one another. We collapse in a sweaty heap, bodies trembling from pure erotic bliss.

Hunt reaches up without looking and unfastens the belt, allowing my arms to fall dead at my sides. He cradles my exhausted body to his, holding me comfortingly, still nestled deep inside me. My head lies heavily upon his shoulder while he caresses the length of my back. After a bit of cuddling and tickling, Hunt whispers in my ear, “Sleep now, Elle. Close your eyes.”

He kisses the top of my head, and the world fades around me as I fall into an abysmal slumber.

Chapter Twenty-one

 

Crime and Punishment

 

I
rouse before my alarm, before Hunt. He’s sleeping sprawled out on his back, one arm bent on the pillow over his normally chocolaty caramel hair. It shines in the sunlight peeking through the large arched window, revealing more honey and gold. He looks so peaceful. The tense lines aren’t there, and his mouth’s slightly slack. He’s naked under the sheets, highlighting every curve and contour on his able body. ‘Little’ Damian’s up, as well, greeting me a pleasant good morning.

Damian begins groaning and mumbling, but I can’t
make out what he’s saying. His hips gyrate, causing the sheets to stretch taut against his cock, showing his impressive width and length. His fingers clasp to the pillow and sheet while he moans and writhes. I’m unsure if it’s a nightmare or dream until he growls out, “Gabrielle.”

He’s dreaming of me, of fucking me, and from the sound of it, spectacularly. I’m curious and a bit jealous of myself, because I’m not involved in the kinky fun. I want to be, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I yank the covers off, fling one leg over his waist and hover, the tip grazes my cleft.

I angle myself so the next thrust claims me and it does, ramming into me to the root. He clasps to my hips, pushing me down and undulating beneath me, asleep. He bites and licks his lips, brows furrowed as he concentrates on me, the pleasure. He moans louder and cries out my name. I respond to his pleads, unsure if he can hear me, “Yes, Damian? Do I feel good, slick?”

He pounds harder at the sound of my voice.

“Yes,” he hisses.

“Do you want me?”

“God…yes.”

“Then take me. I’m all yours.”

I moan, head thrown back as I meet his avidly charging hips with my own. I splay my palms on his chest for extra balance and leverage. I’m totally immersed in him and his need for me, even in his dreams.

“Gabrielle?” Hunt’s sleepy, husky voice breaks through my sexual reveries. I gaze down at his curious, happy face.

“Hi,” I purr.

“Good morning,” he replies with an enormous grin that travels to his alert, shadowy eyes.

He allows me to take control and clasps his hands to my thighs, eyes cemented to mine. I plunge and swivel my hips in a hurried pace fueled by our strained breathing and impassioned moans. Our hands press into slippery flesh, fingers curl and dig from the growing sensation waiting to explode from us.

I watch his lovely face go slack and tense when I hit the right button. I’m close, so close to coming unwound
, and Hunt is, too. I feel it in his jerking muscles, see it in his hungry stare.

“Take me, Damian. Show me how it’s done.”

He hugs me to him and rolls us, taking me as demanded. His magnificent drives are exactly what I need, and the electric, body-shaking, mind-altering waves rush everywhere. I clench around him, and we cum savagely.

“Fuck!” Hunt cries, rolling us over
again, allowing me to go limp on his heaving, hair-speckled chest. I lie there gasping and juddering from the aftershocks of our unreal wake-up call. We wrap our bodies around each other and bask in the afterglow of our lovemaking.

“What compelled you to fuck me awake?”

“I figured if you were going to screw me, I should be included.” He gawks at me, perplexed by my cryptic response. “You were having a wet dream about me, writhing and groaning out my name. I was jealous, so I climbed on.”

“You were jealous? Of yourself?” He chuckles and tilts my face to meet his li
ps for a chaste but loving lip-lock. “I’m pleased you joined me. Dream Elle doesn’t compare to the real thing.”

He shoves his face in my hair and inhales sharply.

“The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Hunt.” I rest my head on his chest, and he runs nimble fingers through the messy strands. “Are you ready to join the real world?”

“No
,” he mumbles through the thick disaster atop my head.

“Well, too bad, mister. We don’t have a choice.”

“I believe the word you were searching for was Master.” I laugh, and he sighs. “Can’t we postpone until next week?”

“Fat chance. I don’t want the new boss to fire you or me. I hear he’s a real ball-busting, tight-ass.” I smirk up at him.

“Ha. Ha. I really don’t think termination is an option.”

I roll my eyes, and he cocks a brow.

“I want to go to work. I’m ready to learn the new position and get my hands dirty. I’ll see you later tonight.” I wince at the idea of being without him until this evening.

“No. I don’t think so,” he says in a stern tone.

“You don’t want me to come over tonight?” I ask, wounded. I attempt to climb off him, but with his grip firmly in place and hard cock still shoved deep inside me, I’m trapped.

“No, I’m not going all day without being near you, touching you. We’ll have lunch together, and I’ll drive you home after work.”

“I’m having lunch with Chase, and he’ll drive…”

“I’ll be at your office at noon. I expect you to be ready and waiting.”

“You’re being ridic…”

“No, I’m not. He’s going to be around you for the majority of the day, and I want time for me. Is it so terrible I can’t be without you for longer than a few hours?”

“No, I feel the same, but I’ve been neglecting my friends, and I want to make it up to them since I’m in a better place.”

“Fine, I’ll see you at lunch.”

He isn’t going to give up. It’s not as if I expect him to, because he wouldn’t be who he is if he quit easily. I’m not in the mood to continue arguing, so I wave the white flag of defeat. I groan and shove my face against his chest.

“I’ll be ready and waiting,
” I mumble from smashed lips.

“Thank you. You should jump in the shower, and I’ll make us coffee.”

He lifts my face to his and sweeps wavy tendrils behind my ear. He cups my cheeks and brings me onto his lips. His able hands relocate to my hips and pull me off him. He sits up and hugs me into him, grasping the back of my head, smashing our lips together until they sting and tingle.

 

I
totter into the living room and spot a cup of coffee waiting for me on the kitchen counter. I grab the tasty brew and spot Hunt on the couch reading the newspaper, sipping on his coffee. I prepare my cup of Joe, adding hazelnut creamer and sugar.

Hunt glances up at me, and I walk over to the couch, taking a seat next to him. “Are you done with the front page?” I inquire.

“Sure. I’m reading the business section.”

“Of course you are.”

I snatch the front page off the pile on the coffee table. I settle in, flinging my legs over Damian’s lap and lean into the soft leather of the couch cushion. I’m reading and sipping on the delish coffee a few minutes later, when I hear Maya giggle from the hallway. I glimpse up at her, and she’s shaking her head with an ear-to-ear grin, leaning against the frame. I get up and meet her in the kitchen.

“You two appear extremely cozy.”

I snag the eggs and bacon out of the fridge and set them on the island.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like watching an old married couple. You’re in sync, as if you’ve been together forever. It’s cute.”

I crack the eggs into a bowl and whip them into submission.

“Yeah, yeah. Did you get enough sleep?”

“Plenty. I’m starving. Are you making breakfast?”

“No, I’m painting a portrait. What does it look like?” I grin at her, and she turns red.

“Ok, dumb question. Could you make me some?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Yes I can. I’m going to teach you how to cook. How long were you thinking of crashing?”

“I was actually hoping I could talk to you about that.”

I pause as I’m lying the bacon in the pan and stare at her.

“Spill it.”

“Maybe we’ll talk after breakfast, when you’re not hungry or irritable.”

“Ask already.”

“I want to move in. I don’t want to live alone, and I don’t think I could live with my friends. I promise to pay rent, clean, anything. Please?”

I glance over to Hunt, but he’s already in the shower.

“Fine. You have to help me around here. No parties without my knowledge, and I teach you to cook because I won’t be your personal chef and maid.”

“I got it. Teach a man to fish and all that. I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“I may not be here most evenings, but I’ll show you the alarm code and whatever else you need to know.”

I go back to fixing breakfast.

 

W
hile Maya is setting the table, Hunt saunters out fully dressed in a black suit, crisp white shirt, and silver tie. He’s stunning, but I still prefer the construction worker look he had on last night. Maya whistles.

“Looking sharp, D.”

He shoots her a killer smile heading over to me and plants a chaste kiss on my temple.

“Breakfast smells wonderful,” he comments and takes a seat at the head of the island. I sit next to him and serve out the food, attacking mine as if I’ve never eaten before.

“What’s the rush?” Maya asks.

“Babe, slow down. You’re going to choke,” Hunt adds.

“I have to get ready, and I don’t have much time,” I reply with eggs in my mouth.

“Don’t rush. We’ll get there when we get there.”

“I don’t want to be late. It’s not professional. Besides, I thought you’re never late for anything, and you love to work.”

“Baby doll, I would never work again if it meant you’d spend your days and nights with me.”

Maya lets out an, “Awww,” Then a longing sigh. “That’s sweet, Damian. You’re not callous like everyone seems to think you are. You’re very charming.”

Hunt’s shy smile swells m
y heart. “Thanks. You and Elle are the only people who think so.”

“Our parents think very highly of you. Marshall’s nervous about your reputation, but Lizzy loves you. She’s rooting for you two.”

I feel hot with humiliation. My skin turns a deep shade of pink. “I think I should get dressed. I won’t be long.”

I dash into the bedroom, pick out a crea
m pencil skirt, purple silk button-up blouse, and nude platform pumps. I secure the top half of my wavy hair with a few well-placed bobby pins and settle on a little liner, mascara, and nude lips as usual. I chose a tan knee-length coat and rush out to the living room.

“You’re sublime, very professional. I’m impressed how quickly you manage to get ready,” Hunt comments as I walk toward the island.

Maya’s nowhere to be found.

“Where’s
Maya?”

“She headed to the gym. She said to tell
you to have a wonderful first day.”

I check the time and notice it’s eight thirty. We should be leaving.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask anxiously.

“No, but let’s get this show on the road.”

He rises from the table, folds the newspaper, and slides into his black coat before helping me into mine. We walk out hand in hand and remain linked together until we reach Hunt Industries Inc. The butterflies flap their tiny wings violently in my stomach. My skin vibrates from the nervous rush bursting through me when we arrive.

I notice
the name of this man-made marvel etched above the doors in bold, frosted letters.

 

THE HUNTSMAN

 

It’s a modern, glass monster, hungry for fresh meat, ready to chew me up and spit me out. Terrified as I am, I’m in awe of the sleek architecture and size of the behemoth structure. Larger than life, same as the man who owns it and rules over those inside its walls.

Hunt climbs out and meets me on the curb next to my door. While I gawk petrified at his building, I spot black curtains hanging in tall, narrow windows across the street, the dungeon reflected in the mirrored glass.

Damian follows my gaze to the reflection. “Are you alright? Does it bother you?” he asks cautiously.

“It’s convenient,” I tease. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m nervous about today.”

“You’ll be exceptional. I have faith in your abilities. I wouldn’t have given you a promotion unless I felt you were qualified and deserving.”

He clasps my hand and squeezes
it tightly. I feel better knowing he’ll be right above me, and Chase would be there to guide me. I inhale the crisp morning air and concentrate on the bustling sounds of the city street.

“I’m ready.”

He escorts me into the building, and people scramble to get out of his path. His stride never falters. Hunt is a powerful man, answering to no one. He is the kind of man people fear and respect. They practically lunge out of his line of fire. The men slouch in his presence, like boys compared to this man, this Adonis.

Women are worse. They ogle and strut around
, swaying their hips with more swagger than necessary. When they finally notice Blondie attached to him, they glare and snicker at me. I can’t take it personally. I’d be jealous, too, if I saw him clinging onto another woman. He’s a walking sex fantasy, an erotic god that women dream about when their men aren’t quite doing it for them.

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