“Did you know Lucas was going to be there?” Eden found herself asking on the quiet, tension filled ride back to the mansion a while later. In fact, she hadn’t meant to say anything at all and inwardly cursed her wayward mouth, hating that she’d goaded herself to filling the deafening silence. Seated once more across from him, she was privy to his facial expressions for only the briefest of moments before he schooled them back to granite, closing her off like he was always did. Withdrawn and mired in silent introspection, he appeared unaware of her presence in the car, and for once Eden wanted to know what he was thinking, wanted insight into that detached expression that shadowed his rawboned features. If they were to have any sort of peace in the ensuing six months of this contract, then they would need to come to some common ground. Never mind that her curiosity was highly piqued now, her mind refusing to ruminate on anything other than what Lucas had told her. It changed nothing of course, but Eden wanted to know what had happened. How that little boy Lucas had described ended up being this brutally contemptuous man who relished controlling every aspect of her life.
Dominic settled narrowed eyes on her beautiful face to find her luminous golden stare focused on him and quickly realized that she was trying to read him, glean secrets he was nowhere ready to share. Never having been the object of sympathy, Dominic’s pride resented the notion that he was the subject of her pity. He wanted nothing more from her than what she could do for him in the bedroom. He wanted her pliant and supple body writhing beneath him as he rode them both to delirium, and in return, Dominic could shower her with jewels and every materialistic thing she could possibly desire. That was all he was equipped to give her, all he could provide. Anything else…there was nothing else. Lucas’s words dragged on with fervor, reminding Dominic of a dismal childhood that had been filled with more fear and agony than any child should ever experience.
It had taken a great exercise in restraint not to violently hurt his younger brother and even still, Dominic was filled with the undeniable urge for vengeance—the inescapable emotion that came so naturally to him—to retaliate in the worst possible way and make his brother pay for divulging secrets that Dominic himself had vowed would never see the light of day. From the very moment he’d come into his inheritance, he’d gone to great lengths to see that his past with Sheila Swanson was eradicated, not only to insure that no one ever learned the extent of his mother’s abuse, but to also exorcise himself from that upbringing. He’d worked tirelessly to forget, to bury and remember only when they manifested themselves in his dreams. Those memories, his demons and the shame they brought, were solely for him to contend with, but one careless, or rather deliberate slip of the tongue from a brother who would sooner see him hang, had left Dominic utterly exposed, vulnerable to the one person who had the means to use it against him if she wanted. It unsettled him that she was privy to this information, that along with her already low opinion of him, she now had knowledge of this, too. That unwelcome reminder dragged contempt and savage hatred to the surface, and it burned with acidic rage, wanting him to unleash it.
“What the hell were you doing with my brother?” he queried in a voice edged with unveiled savagery. “Convening on how to take down a mutual enemy? Or scheduling that long overdue rendezvous for the next time you decide to run?”
Taken aback by the unprovoked attack, Eden stared bemusedly at him, astonished at the thunderous expression of anger that clouded his features. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. Dominic didn’t need any particular reason to be malicious; he wasn’t at all content unless he was being a complete dick at some point. “Yes, of course because you think me so incapable of having a conversation with any man, least of all your brother without it involving sex. I am amazed of how very little you think of me,” she shot back with biting sarcasm.
“I did not enjoy seeing you with him,” he groused darkly, showing very little sign of contrition. “And it would appall you to learn just how much you consume my thoughts.” He shot her a look so raw and primitive that she wanted to open the car door and flee. But imprisoned as she was inside the confines of the limousine, Eden could only avert her gaze and silently sustain the palpable heat of what that look implied.
“I wasn’t putting him on my ‘who wants to fuck Eden schedule’. Lucas was saving my ass from his snake of a mother and her pit of vipers. He took me to the bar and—”
“And told you an origin story.” His mouth twisted. “It’s one Lucas is very fond of telling.”
“So you tell it,” she invited softly, running her tongue across her lips in nervous habit. “What Lucas said—”
“Bears no relevance to our contract, therefore, it is not your concern,” he said flatly, his stony expression putting an end to her line of questioning. The limo came to a stop at exactly that moment, and he descended without a word. That he could dismiss her so abruptly, so callously and reduce her to nothing more than the contract that they’d both signed was telling of the endless dynamic of their relationship. In a sense, it was sobering for him to do this, to keep her at arm’s length, so that she remembered exactly where she fit in his life and what role she was designated to play. And she’d forgotten that, hadn’t she? For one ephemeral moment she’d wanted to know a little bit about the man she had married, the man who had fathered her child. She’d felt moved to feel something for him, and he’d ungraciously tossed it back in her face. Well, now that Eden was cured of her momentary lapse of insanity, she was once again focused on her goal: the divorce.
Once she’d showered and dressed, she set Liam inside his crib and returned to her bed, collapsing on the yielding mattress with a big sigh. It didn’t take long for sleep to weigh her eyes down and slacken her body, and while she tried not to think about Dominic and the shadowy details of his past, Eden slept fitfully while plagued with dreams of a little boy who looked like her Liam and some unknown specter trying to take him from her.
* * *
It was odd that they would both come to the same unspoken truce in the ensuing weeks, where they tried not to antagonize each other, yet worked seamlessly towards a mutual purpose: Liam. Liam was their common ground, and Dominic demanded to be involved in every aspect of Liam’s life. From mundane monthly doctor appointments to giving, sometimes unwelcomed input, as to what his child would be wearing. If Eden was annoyed by his highhanded intrusiveness, she kept it to herself. She did however execute his requirements of her with quiet resolve, playing the hostess to his rare and illustrious parties, where she laughed easily and charmed his guests into enjoying themselves.
The parties were very exclusive, very private, attended solely by the city’s elite and held almost always on Dominic’s yacht. They were daunting of course, and faced with these affluent people who were worldlier and far more educated than she could be, Eden relied solely on her intuition and charm to get her through it. It wasn’t anything new to her. She’d done this before, had been paraded around these people more times than she could count. But there was a glaring difference now than before—Dominic’s attentiveness—his undeniable presence by her side when they attended these events. For one thing, he’d called her “his wife” more times than she could ever remember him saying. There was not only a quiet possession there, but it was said with the authority of a man who understood the significance of the word. There were no piercing glances of reproach or even a hint of that air of entitlement when he introduced her to his guests. For once, Dominic Armstrong did not outright demean his wife or make her feel completely inferior to him. And for all of Eden’s confidence and façade of indifference, Dominic’s mannerisms disconcerted her. She didn’t know what to think or how to react to this side of him, so she said nothing, choosing to ignore the conflicting emotions this sudden change produced.
With sleep eluding him and a stack of neglected work clamoring for attention on his desk, Dominic made his way to his home office to attempt to get some work done. Finding that he did his best work with a little incentive, he ambled to his liquor cabinet to pour himself a glass of his best scotch and that was when he heard it. It was faint, barely discernable at such a distance, so he paused for a moment, thinking he’d imagined it. Standing at the threshold of his office door, he strained to listen from where the sound was coming from. It was louder in the hallway and grew louder as he followed it, drawn like an ill-fated sailor to the siren’s call that compelled him closer, lured him until all that mattered, all that existed for him was that sound.
Up the stairs, around the corner, until finally he stood outside the closed doors from where the sound originated. He drew it open with one smooth yet forceful tug and was instantly besieged with the strains of piano chords, ascending and descending, skimming effortlessly over complex intervals with dexterity. The melody was a soft one, sad, and her voice accompanied it, fused so perfectly with her playing that Dominic stood arrested. God, she could sing. He’d forgotten she held this pure and natural talent. There was a soulful quality to her voice, one that she possessed with brilliant control, and while the song emphasized the warmth and resonance of her voice, it also stirred something in Dominic, reaching down to the center of him, touching his core, and providing a glimmer of warmth to his otherwise bleak and dark soul.
Breath left his lungs and he felt like he was being choked as memories from his childhood flashed through his mind, where pain, violence, and fear from so long ago contested with the crushing warmth and tenderness that her voice evoked. He must’ve done something, probably made a noise that put an immediate stop to the song, to her voice, to the torturous memories that left him hating the world. She turned to look at him. He looked at her and then was in front of her. Lightning fast reflexes kept her from leaving; he trapped her, cornered her against the baby grand and his large body. He fisted his hands into her unbound hair, his fingers gripping the silken mass to bring her to him even as his mouth found hers with scorching urgency.
He tasted her, her sweetness his undoing as he groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest. He claimed her, forgoing tender kisses for plunging his tongue into her, angling her head to gain better access. Dominic wanted more, he wanted it all, needed her like he needed his next breath. He nipped at her lips, at her chin, and drew her head back to gain access to her delicate neck, grazing his teeth and licking until he left marks. She was braless, her nipples hardening as he cupped a hand around the shape of her breast. She gasped as Dominic clamped down over that pert little nub between his teeth. She released a sweet little sound that was between whimper and mewl as her back arched reflexively, her chest rising to meet the unarguably arousing heat of his persistent mouth that suckled her breast through the thin layer of her shirt. He couldn’t get enough, ravenous, Dominic wanted to consume her. In the silence, there was nothing but his harsh breaths coming short and fast as he quickly lost his grip on control. His searching hands slid up her smooth legs and as he eased between her parted thighs, he gripped her hips and impaled her on his cock.
Eden choked on a gasp, her eyes wide she stared into the unfathomable vortex of his green gaze and found herself desperate to jump. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, needing to keep the moan she knew he yearned to hear to herself as he moved against her. It was appallingly erotic, devastatingly sensual, and as he moved, sensually thrusting his hips forward, making sure that she felt his length stroking right down the center of her, the disjointed sound of the piano keys punctuated every stroke. God… she felt every single velvet steel inch of him through the layers of the clothes that separated them. And just because he knew she refused to share the symphony of pleasure he so easily evoked, he gripped her jaw, inserting just the right bit of pressure to have her mouth fall open and release that whimper that was music to his soul. She needed him to stop. She needed to push him away. But he deprived her of speech, impeded her actions as he threaded a hand through her hair and took possession of her, filling her mouth in the same manner he wanted to fill her cunt.
“If you won’t let me fuck you, then let me taste you.” The primitive growl of his voice was unrecognizable as he breathed against her mouth only to astonish her when he lowered himself before her. “Just a taste…” He sounded tortured, agonized, like life in that moment was contingent on her acquiescence. It shouldn’t have been a very difficult choice at all, and any other woman, a stronger, saner woman, would’ve denied him this request, yet Eden found that she could not lie to herself in that instant, not when every atom in her body strained for his touch. In his all-consuming gaze, she saw her own weakness. Fascination and fear ceaselessly warred inside her, and Eden knew just as much as she hated him, she yearned for him with a raw, unfettered intensity that threatened to burn her from the inside out. But she couldn’t say the words, she couldn’t give her consent because to do so was to openly admit this weakness to him, to give him access to hurt her again.
Dominic however didn’t need her spoken assent as he spied it in her luminous golden eyes, and he relished the small tremor that shot through her when he pressed his mouth to her inner thighs. With all the expertise of an experienced lover, he stripped her of the shorts while the piano keys provided a soundtrack. With the barrier of her shorts gone, his lustful gaze feasted on her with such gluttonous avarice, Eden flushed. Instinct impelled her to close her legs to him, but he put a stop that action instantly with one strong sturdy hand to her thigh. “No...don’t…”
When he slipped a middle finger down her slick center, Eden tensed, biting down on her bottom lip she watched him through shuttered eyes, while her heart raced erratically in her chest and every single fiber of her being paused in bated anticipation. He nipped and indolently licked the soft, tender skin of her inner thighs, until he was poised at the apex of her sex, sensuous mouth to wet pink lips. He hovered, the warmth of his breath melting her further as he wrapped his arms around her quivering thighs, anchoring her in place, and then finally, in one long, indolent stroke of his broad tongue, he tasted her, from the bottom of her slit up to her clit. Eden’s breath hitched in her lungs, and if it wasn’t for his unyielding grip on her, she would’ve slid off the piano. He did it again and again, the impossibly slow drag on his tongue was sheer torment, but Eden did not want mercy, playing the budding masochist to his delicious sadism, she relished his torment, setting her legs on his shoulders to gain better purchase, she rode the indescribable riptide of passion rampaging through her. Every sensory nerve clustered and pulsated between her legs, her ability to think was wiped clean making it impossible for Eden to do anything else but writhe wantonly against his face, offering herself up to be devoured like a maenad at his alter. And he worshiped her like a god, licking her with fiendish delight, devouring her like she was the cure to his infinite sweet tooth. He frenched her cunt, fucked her with his tongue, and just when Eden thought she could take no more, he did it again, possessing her so completely that she thought she was going to burn in his consuming inferno.
She threw her head back, her short nails dug into her balled fists, her eyes drew tightly closed as she felt her muscles tightening, “Dom…” she moaned his name, her voice no longer recognizable as the building force of her orgasm tore through her. When it was over and she was a boneless heap in his arms, he rose to full height and captured her lips in raw masculine claim, cupping her ass to draw her to the hard angles of his body so that she could feel the length of his arousal for her. She clung to him, whimpering helplessly as he impaled his tongue deeper into her, making Eden taste herself, taste him, the heady combination a sinful intoxication that made her feel lightheaded. As if he knew that she was near fainting, he jerked back but did not release her. He set his forehead against hers and cupped her face with one hand, his thumb tracing indolently across her bottom lip. “You can’t even begin to understand how badly I want to bury my cock into your sweet little pussy and fuck you until you can’t move,” he said gravely against her mouth. “But I refuse to take what you aren’t willing to give me. So I’m going to let you leave before I do something I will regret.”