I usually avoid looking in a mirror, I meanreallylooking at my reflection as if you're staring at someone else, examining every single imperfection right down to your very soul. I can recognize the scars because it’s become part of me that tells a story of what I’ve been through. The tattoos speak of control over myself, hiding the pain from the outside world. But for the life of me, I don’t recognize my face. It’s not the features I’ve always despised inheriting, it was thinking Payne was part of me. I have Diana’s eyes, right down to how expressive they are, but who else do I see on my face if not him? Where do my full lips come from? The shape of my chin?
Fiddling with the bow that slips through my fingers like water, I try not to think of what happened at Logan’s house. Seeing the rage in Diana’s eyes, it was downright hateful. She probably never wants to see me again. I’m not even going to start thinking of what Franco did, I just can’t right now. It’s all too much. I can’t really blame Diana if she forbids me from seeing her but I have something inside of me eating away. I need to know who my father is. It’s almost noticeable now that Payne isn’t shown in my features, he never was a father figure, and seeing how nothing on my face looks like him makes it seem as if I’ve never really looked at myself.
“Hey, mama.” That raspy, smooth voice makes it feel like hot, scalding water is sliding down my spine, enough to make me shiver from the heat but wanting to burn my flesh away just to feel warm.
I lift my head and my gaze connects with his dark ones that are reminiscent of a black abyss. You can’t look away even if you tried, you want to tip forward and see where it takes you.
“Dom.” I pry my eyes away with a great deal of difficulty, not in the least bit ashamed of how much skin I’m showing in front of him.
His gaze feels familiar on my back, hot and intense. I’m not surprised by this at all. I should have figured it out.
“You've been following me?” I question, not looking up as I continue playing with the silk bow.
My breath leaves me in a sharp gasp as rough, big hands grasp my shoulders and spin me around before walking me backwards until my back collides with the mirror. The cold glass on my back makes me shiver but my front is warm, really warm from Dom crowding my space with his whole, tall, muscled body.
“It’s like you're asking me to throw you over my shoulder and keep you for myself.” His minty breath washes over my face as he comes closer until the tip of his nose is barely skimming mine. “You're lucky it’s only me stalking you. You’ve been very naughty, mama. Why did you sneak out?” he asks, bringing his big hand up to cup my cheek like I’m made of fragile glass.
He’s staring at me like I am unbreakable, strong with those dark eyes of his but we both know that just the slightest pressure of his hand could break me into pieces. I bet he could end everything without breaking a sweat and I wonder how many people he’s killed with his scarred hands. Yeah, I noticed that right away at the rave. They’re the hands of a fighter, cut open many times and healed but only to reopen again. It’s such a weird feeling, he’s purposely holding back and being gentle with me. Some people can spend forever together and still feel like they are just finding out new things about their loved one but looking into Dom’s eyes doesn't feel that way. I’ve only met him once and I felt safe, comfortable in my own skin. This is our second time meeting but it feels like we’ve been doing this for centuries. Familiar and easy, like gravity pulling you tight together because you're meant to be near each other.
“I needed to get out. I couldn’t breathe.” The words fall out of my mouth truthfully and easily.
“I should kill those punks, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t be too pleased with me if I did.” His thumb glides from the corner of my bottom lip slowly to the other side, making my mouth part at the feeling washing over me.
Rough and warm.
“I–I don’t want that. It’s not about them. You should stay away from me. Everyone who comes near me ends up getting hurt.” I swallow thickly as I look up at him from under my lashes, wanting to take back my words and knowing I can’t because it’s true.
Everyone I care about gets hurt because of me.
Dom leans his upper body away, trapping my lower half to the mirror with his as he stares down at me with an angry expression. So passionate with his dark eyes, narrow, thick brows, and thick lips that tighten with his emotions. He moves his rock-hard thigh between my legs and takes my face between both of his palms so I’m fully looking up at him.
“If I ever hear those words out of this perfect mouth again, I’ll fuck you until the only word you know is my name. I’ll drag out so many orgasms from you and keep going, even when you're begging me to stop. I’d do it right now, but it seems luck is on your side today. I imagine they'll be here any minute so me being right here in front of you should tell you that I’m not going anywhere. A King never leaves his Queen behind.”
I don’t grasp what he’s saying about someone coming soon because all my attention is on the promise he makes that heats every part of my body like it’s on fire. My pussy clenches, empty and dripping wet with my new panties sticking to my lower lips. His harsh, thick lips curl into a smirk as he stares into my eyes as if he knows how my body is reacting to him.
I don’t even have time to argue or sass back to prove he’s wrong even though he’s not. He pushes me further into the mirror, and my body arches as his thigh rises higher between my legs until he’s rubbing right against my clit. My body shudders, hips rolling to seek more pleasure as I rub my hands up and down his muscular chest. I imagine I’m soaking his pants, that he can feel my juices smearing all over him. I don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it though, I just keep rocking my hips against his muscular thighs and bite back a whimper as he rubs perfectly in the right spot on my clit. Every sound that escapes my mouth is loud and echoes in the dressing room. My body slows slightly, only realizing where the hell I am but Dom puts a stop to that right away. His calloused hand grabs the back of my neck and tilts my head by placing his thumb on my jaw to angle how he wants me. The first brush of his lips is soft, warm, and light like he’s teasing me but cherishing me at the same time. I moan without caring who hears, parting my mouth to push my lips harder against his until he fucking destroys me.
Devours me.
Like I’m his last meal and he plans on savoring me.
He groans deep in his throat, tightening his fingers around the back of my neck, and slides his tongue along my bottom lip. I grip at his taped waist, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as I ride his thigh faster and tilt my head back more as I try to get impossibly closer to him.
He rips his mouth away, breathing hard as he places his other hand on the mirror like he needs to support himself and rests his forehead against mine. His long fingers massage the back of my neck, tightening and loosening as if he’s trying to hold himself back. I like that, he needs to contain his need around me and let me ride out my pleasure.
“That’s it, mama. Ride my thigh. Push that gorgeous pussy harder against me and soak my jeans until I have a wet spot on my thigh from all those juices dripping out just for me. Come for Papi.” He holds my gaze, tightening his grip on my neck when my eyes start to close as pleasure washes over me.
I don’t hold back my moans, not caring if anyone hears. My breath comes out in hard pants as I stare at him, the way my body shakes and clenches tells me he’s going to have a very obvious wet spot on his thigh. I feel like liquid, boneless, and finally feel like my chest isn’t as tight as before.
“There she is, my Queen.” He places a tender kiss on my forehead, staying for a second longer before reluctantly stepping away. “I have to go. Be a good girl, mama. I’ll be watching.” My stalker winks and turns towards the open door but before he disappears I blurt the words out of my mouth.
“Why do you call me mama?”
He glances over his shoulder and smiles devilishly at me like he knows something I don’t.
“What else would I call the future mother of my children?” he says before leaving while I stand there like a fish out of water.
Did that just happen? He came in like a devil in disguise, all quiet and mysterious, gave me pleasure without asking anything in return and kissed me like I’m his. And he left just as he came, like a dream… as if he was never really here. The throbbing between my legs and the panties I now have to buy because of the very noticeable wet spot in the front are the only evidence he was here.
