In the Hands of Dominic
“You are my home.”
They moved together like they’d never been apart, like they knew every rhythm of each other’s bodies. The pace was slow, sensual—more about connection than conquest. Every kiss, every touch, was an apology, a promise, and a declaration.
When it finally washed over them, it did so in waves—breathless, shuddering waves that left them gasping, clinging to each other in the aftermath. Dominic rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms, holding her like something sacred.
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