Skin Against Skin

"Go on, Sienna," Dominic murmured, leaning down until his mouth hovered an inch from mine. "Tell me if my brother knows it’s my name you moan when you come in your sleep."

Heat flared across my cheeks. I grabbed the edge of the charcoal silk sheet and yanked it up to my chin to cover the oversized black shirt.

"Where’s the Elysium case?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"Locked in my personal vault," Dominic replied. He didn't move back. Under the covers, his bare fingers traced the curve of my knee. "You slept for four straight hours. That’s four hours longer than I’ve tolerated anyone else in this penthouse in three years."

He shifted on the edge of the mattress, his grey eyes dropping to my wrist.

"White neroli and wild valerian," Dominic said, his voice get low. "Preston claimed he dragged me out of that crushed sedan three years ago. But Preston doesn't know the first thing about botanical distillation, and he certainly doesn't have hands small enough to reach through shattered glass in a thunderstorm."

I stilled, my grip loosening on the sheet. For two years, I’d believed Preston was a hero who had simply lost his nerve after a horrific crash.

"You were bleeding out," I said quietly. "I rubbed the oil on your temples and kept you talking so you wouldn't go into shock before the paramedics arrived. I didn't know who you were."

"You saved my life, and my brother stole the credit to buy his way onto the executive board," Dominic said. "Then he locked you in a basement lab to milk your formulas while he played house with your best friend."

Before I could scramble back, Dominic caught my waist, lifted me out of the tangled sheets, and settled me right across his lap.

The oversized silk shirt rode high up my thighs, leaving my bare skin pressed against the rough wool of his trousers.

He took my right hand and pressed my palm flat against his thigh. Beneath the dark fabric, thick, uneven ridges of scar tissue cut across the hard muscle.

"Feel it," Dominic ordered, his voice sounded rough. "Feel what that night left behind."

My fingers traced the jagged scar. He didn't flinch or show a hint of the touch aversion the press always whispered about. Instead, his bare hand covered mine, guiding my palm higher up his thigh until my fingers brushed the thick, hard length of him straining against his zipper.

"Preston used a forged medical report to justify ignoring you for seven hundred and thirty days," Dominic whispered with his mouth hot against the sensitive skin below my ear. "Let me assure you, Sienna. I share none of my brother’s afflictions."

His free hand slipped beneath the hem of my shirt.

Calloused fingers skimmed up the inside of my bare thigh, setting my skin on fire. I gasped, my back arching as his thumb found my slick, aching heat. He stroked me in slow, deliberate circles that made my vision blur.

"Give me thirty days," Dominic murmured against my throat as two fingers slid inside me, curling deep until a sharp cry broke from my lips. "Use my name. Spend my money. Walk into that boardroom beside me at ten o'clock and watch Preston lose everything."

I dug my nails into his shoulders. Every trace of exhaustion vanished, burned away by a desperate, greedy heat. He knew exactly how to work my body, driving me higher with every rough stroke until I couldn't think straight.

"Dominic," I gasped, my hips rocking helplessly against his palm.

He pressed his thumb harder against my clit, pushing me straight over the edge. Pleasure crashed through me, leaving me breathless and trembling against his chest.

Dominic wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my damp hair as my breathing slowly steadied in the dim room.

A sharp ring cut through the quiet.

On the glass nightstand beside the bed, my phone lit up the dark. Preston’s caller ID flashed across the cracked screen.

At the exact same second, the wall-mounted security tablet near the penthouse elevator chimed twice. The screen flashed red, pulling up a live feed of the ground-floor lobby.

Dominic glanced over my shoulder at the monitor, the corner of his mouth curving.

"It seems Preston wants his lab rat back," Dominic murmured, brushing a damp lock of hair from my forehead. "And your brother Marcus is currently in my private elevator, ready to tear the doors off to get his sister."