Stolen

Alexa’s POV

“Just him. Just this addiction I never wanted to quit,” I whispered against Dominic’s neck as the last waves of pleasure faded.

He held me tighter, one hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles. “Then don’t quit. We have time. She’s not back for another ten days.”

Ten days felt like forever and not nearly enough. I fell asleep like that, still wrapped around him, his heartbeat steady under my ear.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed and the smell of coffee. I found Dominic in the kitchen, already dressed for the day in a crisp shirt and slacks, looking every bit the successful businessman. He turned when I entered, eyes darkening as they swept over me in nothing but his oversized T-shirt.

“Morning,” he said, voice low. “Sleep okay?”

“Better than I should have.” I crossed to him and rose on my toes for a kiss. He gave it willingly, hands sliding under the shirt to grip my bare ass.

“Careful,” he murmured against my lips. “Keep kissing me like that and we won’t leave this house today.”

“That a promise or a threat?”

“Both.” He nipped my lower lip, then pulled back with obvious reluctance. “I have a couple meetings I can’t skip. Virtual, but I need the office. You’ll be all right?”

I nodded, even though the idea of hours without his hands on me already felt wrong. “I’ll study. Maybe go for a run.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “Text me if you leave the house. And stay away from the front gate if Ethan tries anything.”

“I will.” I kissed him again, deeper this time, until he groaned and set me on the counter. We almost didn’t stop there, but his laptop pinged with an incoming call. He cursed softly, adjusted himself, and gave me one last heated look before disappearing into his office.

The house felt too quiet without him. I tried to focus on my coursework, but my mind kept drifting to the way he’d looked at me last night, the way he’d said I was his. By midday I gave up and went for that run, earbuds in, trying to clear my head. The guilt was still there, quieter now, but every time I thought of Mom it twisted sharper.

Halfway through the loop around the neighborhood, my phone buzzed. Unknown number again. I ignored it. Then another. And another. Finally I stopped under a tree and answered.

“Alexa, thank God.” Ethan’s voice, frantic. “Why did you block me? What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” I lied, breathing hard from the run. “We’re done. I told you that.”

“You sounded off that night. And now you won’t even see me. Did he do something? Dominic?”

My stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw the way he looked at you when he picked you up on your birthday. Like you were his. And you… you let him drive you home. Alone.”

“You’re paranoid.” My voice shook. “Leave me alone, Ethan.”

“I’m coming over. We need to talk face to face.”

“No!” The word came out too sharp. “Don’t. Please. Just… move on.”

He was still talking when I hung up and blocked the new number with trembling fingers. I ran the rest of the way home, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with exercise.

Dominic found me in the shower twenty minutes later. He stepped in fully clothed at first, then stripped and joined me under the spray, pulling me against his chest.

“You’re shaking,” he said, hands gentle as they soaped my skin. “What happened?”

“Ethan called. From a new number. He’s suspicious. Said he saw how you looked at me that night.”

Dominic’s body tensed behind me, but his voice stayed calm. “He won’t be a problem much longer.”

I turned in his arms. “What does that mean?”

“It means I protect what’s mine.” He kissed me, hard and possessive, backing me against the cool tile. “You don’t need to worry about him. Let me handle it.”

Water cascaded over us as he lifted me, legs wrapping around his waist. He took me right there—deep, urgent thrusts that chased every thought of Ethan from my mind. I came fast, crying out against his shoulder, and he followed with a low groan, spilling inside me.

After, he held me until the water ran cold, whispering that I was safe, that he’d never let anyone hurt me. The guilt tried to rise again, but his hands and his words pushed it back down.

That afternoon we barely left his bed. He worked from his laptop while I lay beside him, head on his thigh, occasionally distracting him with my mouth until he cursed and pulled me up to ride him instead. Every stolen moment felt more intense, like the risk was making everything sharper.

By evening I was sore and sated, curled against him on the couch with takeout we’d ordered in. My phone stayed silent—no more unknown numbers. I didn’t ask how he’d made that happen. Part of me didn’t want to know.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Dominic said, fingers playing with my hair.

“Just thinking.” I traced a pattern on his chest. “This can’t last forever. Mom comes home soon. We have to be careful.”

“We will be.” He tilted my chin up. “But until then, I want every second I can get with you. No holding back.”

I nodded, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss turned heated quickly. Clothes came off. He laid me out on the couch and took his time, licking and sucking until I was begging, then fucking me slow and deep while I clutched at his shoulders.

When we finished, sweaty and breathing hard, I whispered against his neck, “I’m scared how much I need this now.”

“Don’t be scared.” He kissed my temple. “I need it too. More than you know.”

The next morning brought another text from Mom: Flight delayed. Might be another week. Everything okay there?

I read it to Dominic while he made breakfast.

“Another week,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Good.”

I smiled back, but unease twisted in my gut. The longer this went on, the harder it would be to stop. And stopping felt impossible now.

We spent the day stealing every moment we could. Quick kisses in the hallway. His hand up my skirt while I tried to load the dishwasher. A frantic fuck against the wall in his office between calls. Each time left me more addicted, more willing to ignore the voice whispering that this was going to break us all.

Late that night, as we lay in bed, limbs tangled, I traced the line of his jaw.

“What if I can’t go back to normal when she returns?” I asked softly.

Dominic turned his head, eyes dark and certain in the moonlight.

“Then we don’t,” he said. “We find a way to keep what’s ours.”

My heart stuttered at the quiet promise in his voice. I should have asked what he meant. Instead I kissed him, letting the addiction pull me under once more.

Because telling him to stop was the one thing I still couldn’t do.