The Dom Project by Heloise Belleau, Solace Ames Read Free Book Online Page B

said.
    God, she needed to put all this aside. All this new confusion and possibility and bloodcurdling terror. Go back to a more straightforward time.
    They’d had a rent party one night at the old house. Robin remembered stumbling into John’s room to get his help with the music selection. The lights were low, and he was shirtless and on top of someone. He hadn’t turned to look at her, completely intent on the woman underneath him, who was letting out soft little moans at whatever John was doing. Robin, stupid stupid Robin, could have ducked out then, like she’d never been there at all, but instead she’d shouted and said something like, “Oh God, I’m so sorry, oh God, oh God,” and “Oh my God, I’m sorry I’ll just go, I’ll go right now,” before finally making her way out again.
    This time, though, the memory shifted, because at her outburst, John sat up, his powerful arms pinning the other woman to the bed. “Don’t go,” John said, and rose from the bed. The woman underneath him lifted her head, brushing the dark curls of her hair back from her eyes. She was wearing a deep purple velvet corset, her breasts barely constrained as she panted. The space around her full lips was bitten red.
    “Stay,” she pleaded, with a cautious, curious smile.
    Yes. Stay.
    Robin didn’t need to say a word. A nod of her head was all that was necessary. The motion was the pivot where reality and fantasy merged. The touch of her hand against her thigh. John gliding toward her.
    The liquid heat that coursed through her body, swirling between her tightly clenched thighs.
    John reached her. His eyes were dark pools and his face was unreadable in the gloom. She didn’t need to read his intentions, didn’t need to think anymore, just feel, because he took her, pressed her hard into the wall, one arm barring her across the chest to keep her still while the other reached down .
    She slipped a finger between her legs, into the delicious wetness that had built up under the lace of her panties. Her clit ached for more pressure—she thrust her hips up against her hand and clenched her teeth. Back in the shadowy room, John’s fingers—so much longer, rougher—cupped her mound through the same panties, teasing her, not touching her where she most needed to be touched. The lightest pressure from the heel of his hand made her whimper, a shameful little sound that seemed to please him, because he pressed even closer, resting his chin on the top of her head, forcing her hard enough against the wall to hurt, to make her feel every fucking inch of his body.
    She couldn’t hold back much longer. Please , she begged—John, herself, she didn’t know anymore. Maybe the woman, the other woman who was still watching, jealous, wanting what John was giving Robin.
    And then, at last, she let herself feel the pressure. The merciful release of his stiff fingers filling her cunt, then thrusting in and out, faster and faster as she fell apart around him, dissolving into formless ecstasy.
    She came back to herself in her own bed, half-numb and half-burning, fingers sore and slick and oh God she was close to crying, it was that good.
    No question anymore. She had to do this. Walling off these disturbingly intense feelings just wasn’t working anymore. Letting the feelings out, trusting John to see them and then putting them away again—yes. It would be like a safety valve. They were both adults. There’d be rules. Boundaries.
    She reached for the phone. And then she stopped herself, laughed shakily and got up to wash her hands first.
    This is insane .
    She texted draw up the contract to John, then turned off the phone before she changed her mind.

Chapter Four
    John woke up to his phone ringing.
    “Oh my God, would you just answer it, you asshole?” Therese mumbled through her tangled hair, then pulled her pillow around her ears.
    Not an exhibitionist, and very much not a morning person. Neither was he. When he finally scooped up the phone