CHAPTER 4

Dominic: [How long do I have to wait for someone’s period to end just so I can touch her?]

Renata: [Maybe… a week?]

Dominic: [Damn. That’s too long.]

Renata: [Relax, sir. Once it’s over, I’ll let you know.]

Dominic: [I’ll be counting the minutes.]

Renata’s heart was still hammering when she ended the chat with Dominic. She slipped out of the apartment, ordered a cab, and headed back to her old boarding house to pack. It hit her then—she’d arrived at the new place with nothing but the clothes on her back.

A week later, Renata froze at the sound of the door. She’d just come home from class, fresh from the shower, her body still wrapped in a white kimono towel.

She held her breath.

The door opened without a knock, as if the lock were only a suggestion. Dominic stepped inside, black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the sharp scent of his aftershave cutting through the humid air. His gaze locked on the towel clinging to her damp skin.

“Sir…” Her voice cracked; she took half a step back.

He didn’t answer. He closed the distance in two strides, the door clicking shut behind him like a judge’s gavel. His fingers lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to his. His breath was warm against her throat.

“You said you were done waiting,” he murmured, low and rough. “I don’t like delays.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but his lips crashed onto hers—hard, demanding. His tongue slipped inside, claiming every inch. The towel slipped from her left shoulder, sliding halfway down, exposing the curve of her breast still steaming from the shower.

He pulled her flush against him, one hand circling her waist, the other pressing the small of her back until there was no space left between them. She felt him—hot, rigid—pushing against her belly through his trousers.

“Sir… wait…” She pushed weakly at his chest, but he caught her wrists, pinning them above her head against the wall.

“No more waiting,” he growled into her ear, teeth grazing her lobe. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

The towel pooled at her feet.

The cold blast of the AC hit her bare skin, every pore prickling to life. Dominic’s storm-gray eyes raked over her—collarbone rising and falling too fast, breasts trembling with each shallow breath, stomach tightening under his stare.

He loosened his tie in one slow pull, black silk whispering free. He stepped closer, hips pinning her to the wall, the hard length of him nudging between her thighs.

“You know what happens now,” he rasped, voice like sandpaper, fingertips tracing the side of her breast, leaving fire in their wake. “You already gave yourself up.”

Renata swallowed, eyes squeezing shut. “Sir…”

“Shh.” His thumb brushed her lower lip, then slid down her throat, pausing at the peak of her breast—already tight. He circled it slowly; she bit her lip to stifle a whimper.

He dipped his head, hot breath teasing the nipple before his mouth closed over it—soft at first, then a gentle bite, tongue swirling, sucking, pulling. Renata gasped, back arching, chasing more.

His other hand drifted lower, fingers slipping between her thighs, finding slick heat. “So soon,” he murmured, satisfied. His middle finger circled, then eased inside one knuckle, moving in time with his tongue on her breast.

Renata moaned, knees buckling.

He drew his hand back, licked the finger clean while holding her gaze. “Sweet,” he said, then scooped her up and carried her to the king-sized bed.

He tossed her onto the cool silk sheets.

Dominic shrugged off his shirt, revealing sculpted muscle and the faint outline of a dragon tattoo. He climbed onto the bed—not to cover her, but to kneel lower.

His knees nudged her thighs apart, fingers tracing the sensitive skin inside.

“Tonight,” he breathed, warm air brushing the most intimate part of her, “I want to taste you first.”

Then his mouth descended.

Warm.

Soft.

His tongue moved—slow circles, pressure, licks—finding the spot that made her fist the sheets, back bowing off the mattress. One finger slid in, then two, curling and thrusting in rhythm with his mouth.

Renata shattered—body locking, then melting, cries echoing in the room.

Dominic rose, lips glistening, eyes dark with hunger.

“Just the beginning,” he said, voice hoarse. “Now… your turn.”

And that night, Renata finally surrendered every inch of herself to Dominic.

***

Renata woke heavy, as if dragged from a dream too deep to surface. Black silk sheets clung to her sweat-damp skin. Thin morning light slipped through the curtains, illuminating a room that had been nothing but gasps and ragged breaths hours ago.

Dominic slept beside her, one arm draped across her waist, breathing steady. She stared at the ceiling, chest rising and falling. It all felt real now: the ache between her thighs, the sticky residue on her skin, the lingering musk of him on her body.

She wanted to move, but exhaustion pinned her down.

Minutes later, Dominic stirred. He opened his eyes, looked at her still-closed ones, and a faint, satisfied smile curved his mouth.

He sat up. The sheet shifted.

His gaze landed on the small red stain in the center of the white fabric.

He froze.

His heart seemed to stop. He stared at the spot, then at Renata—now awake, face pale.

“You…” His voice was raw with shock. “You were still a virgin?!”

Renata swallowed hard. She didn’t answer.

She just met his eyes, tears welling, guilt and terror swirling together.

Dominic drew a sharp breath, fist clenching the sheet.

“You lied to me!”