Dominic Sherwood Eyes Mga Nobela at Kwento

He exhales and I pull back, no longer watching from above as I stare into his eyes, watching them slowly blink back open. I yank him to me, crying like I've never cried before. It's as if every single bad thing that's happened in my life has finally come to a head. Papa dying, my parents dying, the fire, Zach, Aunt Kelly knowing things she never told me, and now this. I clutch Dominic's neck so tightly, I'm almost surprised when I feel his arms wrap about me. I look up to see those beautiful brown eyes I wanted so desperately to see again. "Do not cry, my love," he whispers.

She was enjoying this. Dominic didn’t speak. He just watched. His gaze burned hotter than anything else in the room. “Eyes on me,” he said. It took everything I had to obey. I opened them, just barely, just enough to see him standing there like temptation personified—dark slacks, black button-up rolled at the sleeves, his eyes locked on mine while Zoey ruined me from below. Then I shattered. My thighs shook violently. My lungs forgot how to function. The orgasm hit like a wave breaking across my spine—fast, hard, and all-consuming.

His body tingled, and a heat bloomed in his stomach, causing him to become hard and leak from his backside. Emmett feels his hands on a rock-hard chest and realization sets in that Dominic is completely naked against him. It feels like a stampede of horses racing in his chest, pounding against his ribs. Emmett stares at Dominic's chest before he slowly looks up. The Omega's heart skips a beat when his eyes land on Dominic's. The 3rd in command looks at him so intensely. His dark eyes search Emmett's face before looking deep into his eyes, almost hypnotizing the Omega. Emmett realizes Dominic's eyes seem darker and he can't see the difference between his iris and pupils

His eyes—dark and locked on hers—burned Dominic

and the moment they did, Dominic’s eyes found them. He was standing by the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand, his dark suit still perfect, his expression unreadable. But his eyes... those sharp grey eyes.…burned with a quiet storm. Sienna was beside him again, still talking, still smiling, but Dominic wasn’t listening. His gaze was locked on Izzy... on her hand resting lightly on Adrian’s arm. Izzy felt it instantly. That same pull. That magnetic awareness that always made her heart skip a beat. She didn’t need to look...she knew he was watching.

He looked up and I could see his canines flashing, his eyes glowing red. Oh no. *********************************************** Dominic and Sky's asthetics are live on I-G (the_fem_ink). Have you checked them out?

A shiver ran down my spine the moment I locked eyes with Dominic. He stood in the doorway, his frame rigid, his golden eyes burning with an emotion I couldn’t quite place—but it was dangerous, thunderous, unrelenting. I had seen him angry before. I had seen his coldness, his indifference. But this? This was something else entirely. His sharp gaze flickered between James and me, his expression hardening as he took in the way my arms were still wrapped around James.

I felt that his aura was not really his. “ I know you’re not mad over a fucking human.” James said, standing in front of Dominic, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “ Dom.” I called his name, but my voice cracked. I tried to crawl to him, but when he looked at me with glowing red eyes, I knew to stay back. I laid back down and kept my eyes on him and James. I already knew what was going to happen. Footsteps were heard and even tree leaves began to ruffle. Soon, I was surrounded by a whole group of people, their eyes the same as James and Dominic’s eyes. However, Dominic’s was different. Everybody else’s eyes were a glowing green or blue, but his eyes were the color of blood.

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the dim, crimson moonlight filtering through the heavy drapes. Dominic was hovering over me, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. His dark hair was disheveled, and his torn silk shirt hung loosely off his chest, but his golden eyes were terrifyingly clear. He wasn’t looking at me with the lust of a man trying to claim a tribute. He was staring at my clenched, defenseless hands, then down at the stiff, rigid posture of my body, mapping my reactions with an intense, analytical focus.