Book Trk
64
Dominick had said he could get me out of my contract. I certainly liked the sound of that, but then what would I do? Would I return to graphic design at an advertising agency? Would I make stationery and greeting cards for some mom-and-pop printing press? And when the clients requested meetings with the designer, would they remember my bare ass? The way I had looked when I was mounting my boyfriend? Or when I was on my knees, giving him head? Or the smeared pink lips from the actor I’d supposedly fucked in a public restroom?
They would think I was the biggest slut ever.
With these thoughts running on a continuous loop, sleep was even further away than before. I needed something to distract my brain, so I tiptoed out of bed and grabbed my phone, quickly bringing it back beneath the covers.
I knew better than to check Instagram, but my finger automatically pressed the app, and I typed Daisy’s name into the search bar.
She was a poster, constantly providing fresh content, wanting to always stay relevant to her fans.
But there was nothing new on her page. No posts for a few days, no stories.
Maybe Daisy and her assistant were too busy, which could have been the case, or maybe she was actually feeling some sort of emotion from what had happened between us, drowning in a sea of thoughts, like me.
I typed Mark Hall’s name into the search, clicking his profile once it appeared. He didn’t have many followers, and his photos were mostly of his dog, some of his family, and a few in the editing room of the studio, showing him hard at work.
There wasn’t a single one of Daisy.Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.
His most recent post was a quote that he’d shared yesterday.
YOUR ACTIONS DON’T DEFINE YOU.
MOMENTS HAPPEN. SOME EARN YOU TROPHIES; OTHERS EARN YOU PARKING TICKETS.
HOW YOU HANDLE TOMORROW IS WHAT COUNTS.
BY THEN, I’LL BE A BETTER VERSION OF ME.
BECAUSE I’M NOT PROUD OF THE MAN I WAS.
This was a guy who had been so willing to hurt me. I just wanted a peek into his life, to see the things that were important to him. I didn’t expect to find remorse. Even though he hadn’t apologized to me, it looked like he was sorry.
It also looked like he was in pain.
He’d lost a girl he liked.
A job that probably meant everything to him.
And now, he was left with only memories of both.
“You should be sleeping,” Dominick whispered as he rolled toward me.
I appreciated that he’d pulled me out of this brain cloud, and I exited out of the app and set my phone on the nightstand. “I can’t.”
His hair was ruffled, his cheeks dark from him being so lax about shaving since we’d arrived on the island. I enjoyed the scratchiness every time he kissed me, knowing once we flew back to LA, he would shave it off and return to suits and aftershave rather than the swim trunks and suntan lotion he’d been living in.
I ran my fingers across his face while he gripped my hips.
“Mmm,” I moaned from his touch, the way his lips were nuzzling into my neck. “I know one way you can get me to relax.”
He moved me beneath him, like I weighed no more than a pillow, and slipped my tank top off, kissing me the second I was naked. My legs parted, and I instantly felt the probing of his tip, my wetness greeting him.
“Fuck me,” he growled. “Your cunt is dripping.”
The roughness of his face kept me in the moment.
“And it’s tight … goddamn it.”
My head sank into the pillow as he slid in deeper, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” He moved to the other side, licking the peak back and forth. “How hard I was going to fuck you.”
“I can’t believe you waited this long to have me.”
“I was going to wake you in the middle of the night, surprising you with my mouth.” He smiled as he looked up at me. “But if you’re not sleeping, I can’t do that.”
“I need this.” I swallowed while he buried the rest of himself inside me. “I need you.”
He held the back of my head and thrust forward. “Then, I won’t make you wait for more.”
The arch of his hips sent a burst through me, a second wave as he reared back and repeated the same motion.
As the air came in through my lips, the emotions that had been keeping me awake released, my chest loosening, the strain in my stomach letting go.
“Fuck yes.” He plunged all the way in. “You have the tightest pussy.” His lips were on top of mine. “You pulse and clench every time I’m inside you.”
I could feel it. The fullness. Almost like he was hitting the end of me each time.
“A pussy molded just for me.”
He reached down, slowly brushing the top of my clit. He didn’t use a pattern; he gave me nothing to get used to. He just knew how to build my body around him.
I could barely breathe.
I couldn’t even control the fluttering of my eyes.
He was owning me.
And I was lost in the sucking of my nipples, in the rubbing and friction between my legs.
Swirls of bliss dominated my stomach, my thighs turning numb, my back lifting off the bed.
No amount of bristles could keep me present.
“Yes,” he hissed. “I can feel you coming.”
There was a surge in my clit, an explosion of tingles that moved up my body, first shooting through my abdomen, causing a scream to ripple through my mouth and, “Dominick,” following. Once the air was out of my lungs, a mix of sensitivity and shuddering came next, a flood of both gliding through me.
He didn’t pause.
He definitely didn’t still.
He continued to caress my clit, his cock diving into my wetness, his power not letting up at all.
“Fuck,” I huffed, trying to inhale as a second round blew through me, unable to stop moaning from the intensity. “Oh God.”
He calmed for just a moment but only to reposition us, sitting on the end of the bed, where I found myself on his lap, facing away from him with my feet on the ground.
And directly in front of us was a mirror.