Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
God, this man was beautiful! He was nothing like the men in the camp. The only time I’d seen a man naked was when the Divine One came to me that last time. He and his deacons had been readying to play their sadistic games so, naturally, they’d all gotten naked. There was no one who looked like Dom.
Tattoos graced his skin from the waistband of his underwear all over his torso, arms, and neck. He had some on his legs but not as many. His arms were heavily muscled and vein roped. Muscles played across his chest and belly. His thighs were thick and strong, muscles bunching with every shift of his weight.
Dom cleared his throat and I immediately looked up. The smirk on his face should have irritated me. Or embarrassed me because I’d gotten caught -- what did Lemon call it? -- eye fucking him. Instead, there was a sense of loss because now I had to tear my gaze away and carry on a conversation when I just wanted to stare a while longer.
I met his gaze with what I hoped was a blank expression. Like I had no idea what his problem was. “What.” The word came out more like a demand rather than an actual question. No way I was admitting to staring at his… uh… yeah. That.
“Like what you see, girl?” Could the man look any more smug?
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Maybe, huh? I think I warrant more than a maybe.”
“If I admit to more than just maybe, can I ask you for one favor?”
“Hmm… I suppose that depends on the favor. I might need more than an admission of where you were looking. I might want you touch where you want to look.” His smile was positively wicked.
Instead of dread threatening to pull me under, I got a hit of adrenaline at the thought of actually doing more than touching Dom’s arm or shoulder through his clothes. After everything I’d gone through, looking at a man in a sexual manner wasn’t something I ever thought I’d want to. And, yeah, the bikini contest misadventure had clued me into that painful fact earlier, but it didn’t look like I was going to listen to the rational part of my brain warning me I needed to protect myself. Besides, either I trusted Dom or I didn’t. And for all intents and purposes, I was living with the man. Besides, why would I deny myself something I was beginning to think I really, really wanted?
“You drive a hard bargain, but I think I could make that work.”
Dom grinned down at me. “You know I’ll give you any fuckin’ thing you want, girl. Name it and it’s yours.”
“When you have him, I want to be the one to kill the Divine One.”
* * *
Dom
“What?” No way I’d heard her right.
“I want to be the one to kill the Divine One. I mean, if you were really serious about killing him.”
“Oh, I was serious, honey. Just not sure I want you doin’ it.”
“Why?” Annie looked so serene she might have been talking about the weather. She was probably in shock after her panic attack. It was still eerie as fuck. Like something out of a horror movie where the sweet, child-like woman is possessed and calmly announces to everyone she’s getting ready to kill them all. And I’ll be Goddamned if my fucking cock didn’t stand up and take notice. So not the fucking time for this. Or the reaction I should have had. “I can do it. I’d have no problem and I wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep. It might even help me conquer these stupid waking nightmares.”
“I can help you conquer them.” Slowly, I reached for the shower gel on the shelf next to us. “You don’t need to expose yourself to that kinda shit. There’s too much sunshine in you for that.” I shook my head, trying to clear the unsettling mix of arousal and concern. “You shouldn’t have to stain your hands with that kind of darkness, Annie. Let me handle it.”
“But I need to, Dom,” she insisted, her voice steadier than it should be. “It’s something I have to do. I want to make him hurt like he hurt me.” Her expression hardened into something I hadn’t seen from her before. Oh, she was pissed. It wasn’t a hot, explosive anger, something that would burn out quickly. No. There was an ice-cold rage burning in her eyes. Calm. Calculating. She wasn’t going to let this go and I didn’t think I was strong enough to stop her. I didn’t mean physically strong. If this woman wanted something, by fucking God, I was going to give it to her or burn down the world trying.
I studied her face, searching for any sign of the fear or hesitation I might have missed, but found none. Instead, all I saw was determination burning in her eyes -- a fierce, relentless, cold fire that both impressed and worried me.