Dominated By Her Novels & Stories

Matteo asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion to what Dominic had just revealed. “I meant what I said,” Dominic replied quietly. “I’ve been watching her for months. Tracking her. Knowing where she’d be. Studying how she moves, how she reacts, how she speaks when she thinks no one’s really listening.” “Why?” Jax demanded from behind him. “Why the fuck would you do that? Why her?” “Because she’s the type of woman who doesn’t break for anyone,” he said. “The kind who fights. The kind who walks into other people’s pain and tries to fix it like it won’t leave cracks in her own bones.”

Her pulse quickened. “Dominic.” He was standing near the window. Watching her. “I cleaned up unnecessary noise,” he said casually. “You deleted my messages?” “I filtered them.” “You had no right.” “I have every right.” She stared at him. “This isn’t protection.” “It is.” “It’s control.” He stepped closer. “You collapsed because you were overwhelmed. I will not let that happen again.” “You can’t silence the world.” “I can silence what reaches you.” Her hands trembled. “You don’t get to decide what I handle.”

she whispered, her voice fragile but steady against the crackle of the fire. Dominic’s jaw tightened, his thumb rubbing roughly against her chin for a brief second before he finally released her jaw. The absolute satisfaction of her submission settled deep into his chest, the dominant beast within him finally content that his territory was secure. He stepped back and sat down on the stone edge of the hearth, his large hands resting on his knees as he continued to watch her like a silent guardian.

Hell, her dad hadn't even protected her. Dominic's theory was that if he could get her to understand that he wouldn't abuse any power she ever gave him over her then just maybe she wouldn't fight him so hard. Oh, she'd still be fiery and obstinate and spit strings of profanities at him, but she might just be more accepting of his dominance. "Move, you piece of shit!" she growled as she squirmed wildly, snapping her teeth at him. She met his gaze boldly and unflinchingly, trying to stare him down.

“You should be with her. She’s perfect. She’s everything you wanted. I’m just... I’m too old for this game.” “I decide who I want,” Dominic growls, his eyes darkening until they are pure obsidian. He presses his weight into her, making her feel every inch of his dominance. “And right now, I want to teach you why you should never, ever break my rules.” Before she can blink, he hoists her up with a grunt of exertion. Her skirt bunches high as he slams her down onto the edge of the cold marble vanity. He steps between her knees, his thighs spreading hers wide, his presence an absolute, crushing weight.

I remain silent, allowing her to speak. “And almost every time, it became the same thing.” “What thing?” I ask. “Control.” The word comes out quietly, and I watch the disgust on her face. “They wanted to dominate me.” Her voice becomes more bitter. “They wanted to tell me how I should dress. Who I should talk to. Where I should go. What I should do. What I shouldn't do.” She laughs without humor. “And the moment they realized I wasn't going to obey, suddenly I became difficult.”

Her hands trembled slightly but not from fear. From adrenaline. From the thrill of standing her ground. She sat back down slowly. Heart racing. Mind spinning. Something was changing. The power dynamic wasn’t disappearing. But it was shifting. And she could feel it. Dominic wanted fire? Fine. She would burn.

She sounds pissed… but seems too classy to roll in the mud with paupers like me. Maybe she knows she owns him. My man! I sob for the wrong reasons. When Dominic had other ladies naked on his table and fucked them like rags, I found pleasure in it, moaned to every one of them, stuck my fingers inside of me, and dreamed of him breaking my cunt. But with her… It's pure jealousy. ‘Cus he’s not permitted to be with anyone but me! “Dominic?” She asks again, her voice straining as she’s losing patience.

“At least you’re not completely clueless.” I huffed out a quiet breath through my nose, eyes dragging over her once more, slower this time, taking in every detail, every calculated piece of her presentation, and then I let my lips curve slightly. “And what exactly does Frederick Ross’s daughter want with me?” Her expression darkened again at that, like I’d already annoyed her more than she expected to be, and she crossed her arms lightly under her chest, gaze hard. “I’ll make this simple for you,” she said. “Dominic is mine.”

That choice had fascinated him, unnerved him, and most unexpectedly, drawn him closer to her. Julian leaned against the doorway, grinning. "She's… something else, isn't she?" Dominic's jaw tightened. "She's dangerous," he said, the word almost a whisper. Dangerous, yes but also compelling. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Victor's gaze was steady and cold. "Don't underestimate her. And don't forget… someone else is pulling strings. Dominic, this isn't just about her defiance. There's more at play than you see."