Chapter 3

The words stayed with her all night.

Next time you call me that, I might not stop.

Aria barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes she heard his voice again, low and rough, like a promise and a threat at the same time. By morning her body felt restless and tight, skin too sensitive under the soft cotton of her sleep shirt.

She came downstairs late on purpose. Dominic was already at the kitchen island with a mug of coffee and his laptop open. He looked up when she entered. For a second his eyes moved over her bare legs and the way the shirt hung off one shoulder. Then he looked away.

“There’s coffee,” he said.

“Thanks.”

She poured a cup and leaned against the counter opposite him. The silence stretched. She could feel him trying not to look at her. She could feel herself hoping he would.

“I meant what I said last night,” he said finally, still staring at the screen.

“I know.”

“Good.”

She took a sip of coffee and watched him over the rim. His jaw was tight. The muscle there flexed once, twice. He was fighting himself again. The knowledge sent a slow heat through her stomach.

She set the mug down and walked around the island until she stood beside his chair. Close enough that the hem of her shirt brushed his arm when she shifted.

“Dominic.”

He closed the laptop. The click sounded loud in the quiet kitchen.

“Don’t,” he said.

“Don’t what?”

“Whatever you’re about to do.”

She rested one hand on the back of his chair and leaned in just enough that her breath touched his ear.

“You said next time.”

His whole body went still.

Aria let the word fall soft and deliberate between them.

“Daddy.”

For a heartbeat nothing happened.

Then his hand shot out and gripped her waist, hard enough to pull a small sound from her throat. He stood in one smooth motion, turning her so her back hit the edge of the counter. His other hand braced beside her hip. He was close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said, voice low and strained.

“I think I do.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. She watched the exact moment his control cracked.

He kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry and angry and full of everything he had been holding back. His mouth opened over hers, tongue sliding deep, one hand sliding up into her hair to tilt her head exactly how he wanted it. Aria made a soft broken sound and clutched at the front of his shirt. He pressed her harder against the counter until there was no space left between them. She felt him, thick and hard against her stomach, and her knees went weak.

Dominic made a rough noise in his throat and kissed her deeper. His hand left her hair and trailed down her side, over the curve of her hip, then lower. When his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and found bare skin she gasped into his mouth.

He pulled back just enough to look at her. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

“Last chance to walk away,” he said, breathing hard.

She shook her head.

His hand slid higher under the shirt until his palm covered her breast. No bra. Just warm skin and the tight peak of her nipple against his hand. He groaned like the contact hurt him. His thumb brushed back and forth, slow and deliberate, and Aria’s head tipped back against the cabinet.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, while his hand kept exploring. When his fingers finally slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts she was already soaked. He cursed softly against her mouth and stroked through the wetness, finding her clit with practiced ease.

Aria’s hips jerked. A helpless sound escaped her.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “Let me feel how much you want this.”

He rubbed slow circles, then slid one thick finger inside her. The stretch made her moan. He added a second and curled them just right, thumb still working her clit, mouth on her neck. She clung to his shoulders and tried to stay quiet. It was impossible. Every stroke of his fingers pulled another soft broken sound out of her.

“You’re going to come for me,” he said against her throat. “Right here in the kitchen. Like this.”

She nodded frantically, past words.

He worked her faster, deeper, the wet sound of his fingers moving inside her obscene in the quiet house. The pressure built until it snapped. Aria came hard, thighs shaking, face pressed against his chest to muffle the cry. He held her through it, fingers still moving, dragging every last tremor out of her body.

When she finally went limp he eased his hand out of her shorts. He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted her without breaking eye contact. The look on his face was pure sin.

Aria’s legs felt like water. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the sound of a car door slamming outside froze them both.

Dominic’s head snapped toward the front of the house. His whole body went rigid.

“Stay here,” he said, voice low and urgent.

He stepped back, adjusted himself with a wince, and walked toward the entryway. Aria stayed pressed against the counter, heart slamming, shorts still damp, the taste of his kiss still on her tongue.

She heard the front door open.

A familiar voice floated in from the hallway, bright and completely unexpected.

“Surprise, you two. I caught an earlier flight.”