Dominic Sherwood Eyes Novels & Stories

He still remembered his daughter's baby eyes which were as blue and deep as the sea. It looked as if she was holding the sea inside her eyes. She was holding all the greatness, destructiveness and secret of the sea inside her eyes. It was so beautiful that he could never forget that pair of eyes. No one could ever forget that pair of eyes if they had ever seen this. "With respect, back off sir. I don't think you are making my mate comfortable." Dominic said with a frown while glancing back Athena. Athena's tear wasn't stopping as she clutched Dominic's shirt to gain some strength from him.

Look at my eyes. "They're beautiful." "I appreciate the compliment but look at them closely," I ask him, and as his glazes into mine, I have them change the color to a violet hue. "Okay, you can change to the other color, which is also beautiful, but what's it to do with the baby?" "Okay, I'll get straight to the point," I exhausted as I have to explain to Dominic makes me want to pull my hair out. "His eyes color to red." He turns to look at me. "Red? Like Elder Vernon and Shani?"

I almost gagged at the sigh in front of him. “Don’t call me blue balls.” Dominic let out a satisfied sigh as he stood up facing me, stains of blood covering his black jeans but they were barely visible because of the color, but his hands were totally another story. They were covered with blood, I could barely pinpoint his fingers so I tore my eyes from them and did one simple mistake. I looked into his eyes. His green eyes had darkness than any brown eyes I had ever seen before. He had this look in his eyes, a look that made you wonder just how many people he killed, or perhaps, he probably lost count with how sane he seemed to be.

I couldn’t help but stare. The photos I’d seen of him before didn’t even come close to doing him justice. Mr. Dominic wasn’t one of those delicate, pretty boys who relied on soft features to win attention. No, his looks were sharp and commanding, as if his face had been sculpted by a master. His jawline could probably cut glass. And those eyes.

I opened my eyes, blinking through the haze of pure lust, a breathless whimper escaping my lips. "Dominic? Please... don't stop. I'm right there." Dominic looked down at me, his grey eyes wild, bloodshot, and completely consumed by a dark, terrifying war. His breathing was so ragged it sounded like he had just run a marathon, his massive chest heaving violently against mine. The internal battle that had been torturing him for weeks was written in every sharp line of his face. As he stared at my unraveled state. My bare skin. My parted lips.

But it was his face that made the breath die in my lungs. Dominic’s eyes weren't brown. They weren't violet. They were completely, entirely, and bottomlessly black. The irises, the sclera, the pupils—everything had been erased by a solid wall of absolute shadow. There was zero humanity left in his gaze. There was no recognition. There was only a blank, primordial hunger. "Dominic?" I whispered, taking a step toward him, my mate-bond suddenly screaming with a violent, deafening wave of pure, unadulterated static.

The kind that says I see you and I am glad and this is everything and I will not make it weird. When she pulls back her eyes are doing something. "Do not," I say. "I am not doing anything," she says. "Your eyes are doing something," I say. "They are fine," she says, blinking rapidly. "Completely fine. Dust." "Hackney dust." "Notorious for it," she says.

The boy’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion and blood loss, but he was awake. Drazen continued, venom in his voice. "Do you even remember her name, Dominic? Or was she just another tool? Another sacrifice on your altar of power?" Dominic said nothing. He stood still, unreadable. His face was blank, but his eyes were sharp. Focused. Watching only one thing: Derek. He gave no signal. No nod. No gesture. But his eyes spoke. Again and again, in a way only someone smart enough—and desperate enough—could understand.

But I forced my eyes open, locking onto his photo. Those eyes seemed to bore into me, promising the dominance I craved. I pumped the dildo faster, the wet sounds of my pussy squealing in the quiet room. Christmas lights twinkled faintly from the living room down the hall, but here, it was just me and my filthy fantasy.

Amelia’s POV I couldn’t sleep. Even after Dominic left, the air in my apartment still felt heavy with him — like his scent clung to the walls, his touch left invisible marks on my skin. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him standing there in the low light, his hair a mess from my hands, his lips swollen from our kisses. And those eyes. God, those eyes. I’d never seen them like that before. So raw. So exposed. Like for a moment, the man who kept the world at arm’s length had let down his walls just enough to let me see what was hiding behind them.