Cross Of Santo Domingo Novels & Stories

she gasped. Thing is, while she had seen a picture before, her mind was still completely blown when she saw the building that was Ricardo DiSanto's place of residence in real life. Astrodomo de DiSanto, the locals called it; and an apt name too because the building was actually a large glass dome in the sky, vividly reflecting the red hue of the setting sun on the ground like something out of a sci-fi movie.

Bree's GPS beeped, breaking into her reverie, and the mechanical voice told her to turn one half mile ahead. And there it sat, in the center of a long stretch of what the locals called a pole fence. The gateway's sign proclaimed the entrance to Rancho Dominacion. She swallowed a chuckle. Emilio Dacosta, the host of today's munch, was listed on the San Antonio BDSM site as a Dom with his own group. She wondered how many people thought the name merely implied his standing in the ranching community.

"And now that he’s done exactly what you asked, you’re turning your backs on him?" More murmurs, hesitant this time. A flicker of uncertainty in their angry expressions. But then the old man’s voice booms again, cutting through the tension. “We don’t care that he has found you! The curse is still here! We need a new Alpha!” His bony finger shoots out, pointing toward the enormous statue of Santa Claus standing proudly near the entrance. "You see that?" His voice trembles with something dangerously close to reverence. "That statue belongs to the only person who has helped us all these years. A mysterious stranger who has been providing for us, keeping us alive, comforting us while our Alpha w

he says with a wink before exposing a tattoo that I recognize as the whip wheel and I am guessing from his demeanor he is a dom. I wear a signet ring with the same symbol and only people in the community would know what it signifies. “I’m sorry you will be leaving. I would have enjoyed being your friend,” I say. “But I believe you are correct in your assumptions.” “We can be friends before I leave and perhaps discuss our mutual interests. As such, I will let this place go for a great deal less than I had planned, if you are the buyer. My name is Dominic and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Cruz,” he replies.

My cheeks heat up, and I peer to look at Santino, who has the same Stoic expression he normally has. “ Maximo, let the girl go!” Santino glares at his brother, who pauses. Maximo stops his advances and pulls away completely. I breathe out in relief and I look at Santino, who has the tiniest smile tagged on his lips. Oh! So he can smile. Maximo takes out a cigar and blows on the tip, instantly lighting it up. I can't help but stare in awe, he always amazes me with his tricks, while Santino keeps his hidden.

He stepped forward and fired off two shots—one in each head of the men I’d injured. Domenico nodded. “Thank you, Santiago.” He took a step forward, but before he could take another, his legs gave out and he crashed to the marble floor. “Fuck.” Santiago rushed forward and called the others over. They got him to his feet and walked him out to the car. “Miss,” Santiago said as I watched in horror as Domenico’s strength spilled out of him. My gaze moved away from him to Santiago. “Get him to a doctor. Fast.”

Although I wished it wouldn't get to that point. I watched as Dominic dropped to his knees in front of me. He gestured for me to lift my dress and I trustingly did so. I heard him take a sharp breath in when I revealed the red lace thong. It wasn't for anyone but myself, it made me feel good and capable of accomplishing anything I set my mind to. "I would have your name engraved but I don't want it to be traced back to you." Dominic said before using his hand to separate my thighs, lingering a moment longer than necessary.

Father Dominic’s eyes burned with unholy lust. He lifted me onto the main altar like a sacrifice and laid me on my back. The cold marble made me gasp. He took the large golden crucifix from its place of honor and pressed the smooth metal shaft against my dripping cunt. “Rub your filthy nun cunt on the cross, Sister,” he ordered. Shame burned through me as I obeyed, grinding my swollen clit against the holy object while he watched. He then pushed the thick end of the crucifix inside me, fucking me slowly with it.

“I couldn’t get myself to sleep, so I thought it’s better I just kept myself busy with a cup of tea.” He paused what he was doing, taking a second to look at me. He nodded, “That’s good.” He said, then continued what he was doing. My gaze shifted to his neck, I was certain I wasn't blind when I said he didn't have his cross on. I walked towards the wardrobe to find something lighter to wear when my eyes met with one of Mateo's shirt spread on the single couch with a silver cross on it. I was shocked, my gaze fixed on it. It was the exact type of Dominic's and the one I had. I shook my head slightly, muttering under my breath. "This can't be real. I was wrong after all."