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CHAPTER 4

I slammed the door shut behind me harder than I had intended, the echo ringing off the penthouse walls like a curse. My pulse was still a wild drumbeat that refused to calm down.

My body was on fire. Every inch of my skin was filled with the ghost of his touch and his voice. That dark, commanding rasp that I hated to love.

God, I hated him. I hated the look in his eyes when he stepped back, the way he pressed that button and dismissed me like I was some… some toy he could pick up, play around with and then throw away when he’d had enough.

But more than anything, I hated myself. Because my cock was still hard and my body was begging for more, trembling for more, screaming for more. And the worst part? I knew exactly who I wanted to give it to.

“Fuck…” I muttered under my breath as I pulled my shirt over my head. My skin was burning, my jeans so tight it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I stumbled into the bathroom, yanked the shower handle, and let the ice cold water wash down over me.

But it didn’t help. The shock hit my body like knives and I leaned against the tiled wall but the cold didn’t kill the heat burning inside of me. If anything, it made it worse. My mind replayed the way his hand had gripped me through my jeans, the deliberate slide of his thumb and the cruel chuckle that had accompanied it when I reacted.

God, I wanted him.

My fist slammed against the wall, water splashing everywhere. No. No, I couldn’t let him win like this. I couldn’t let him own me in my head, not when he already owned me everywhere else. But then I pictured his mouth, inches from my ear, whispering “You’re mine,” and another shudder tore through me, and before I realized what I was doing, my hand slid down, curling around the aching dick that was pressing against my wet boxers.

“Fuck…” I ripped the short off, let it drop to the ground and wrapped my hand around my dick. The relief was both immediate and agonizing.

I pumped slow at first, teeth clenched, forehead pressed against the slick wall. Every stroke led to a moan and my hips bucked, chasing a rhythm I couldn’t control. All I could see was Dominic. His eyes... his restless hands… he had completely taken over my mind.

My grip tightened around it and I stroked faster and harder. I whispered his name, hated myself for it  but it slipped out anyway, echoing against the shower walls. “Dominic… ah… fuck!”

I was panting, every nerve in me screamed for release, for the satisfaction he denied me. My thighs trembled and my other hand clawed at the wall for balance as I pumped faster and faster, my stomach tightening as I did so.

And suddenly, I let out a broken cry, hot cum spilling hot against my fist, mixing with the cold water. My vision blurred, white heat washing over everything.

I collapsed against the wall, chest heaving, legs trembling so badly I could barely hold myself together. My hand slipped down, sticky, and I let the water wash it away.

Shame sank in quick, thick and suffocating. What the hell was wrong with me? Masturbating like some desperate teenager because of a man? And yet… even as the shame burned through me, I couldn’t stop the truth from ringing in my head.

This one wasn't the release I wanted. I wanted him.

I wanted his touch again, his voice again, his cruel games, his command.

His big dick in my hole. That is what I wanted.

By the time I stumbled out of the shower, I was completely exhausted. I dried myself off in silence, avoiding the mirror because I didn’t want to see what kind of wreck I’d turned into. And then I dropped into the big bed and pulled the blanket over my wet body. My muscles were loose now and my cock was laying peacefully but my mind? My mind was running around.

And as sleep lured me in, one thought ran in my head.

Tomorrow, I’d still want him. Even if he dumped me half way.

………..

The next morning, I told Dominic I needed to grab a few things from my apartment. I thought he’d wave me off but instead, he barely looked up from his coffee.

“Fine,” he said simply. Then, with the kind of casual dominance that made my stomach twist, he added, “But I’m coming with you.”

I almost laughed, I was sure he was joking, but he wasn’t.

The ride was silent. His driver sat like a statue in the front seat apart from the movement of his hands.  while I kept stealing glances at Dominic out of the corner of my eye. He looked composed. He wore on an immaculate suit with a gold watch flashing against his wrist as he scrolled through his phone. He looked put together, unlike me, sitting there with my frayed backpack at my feet and the weight of everything I hadn’t said yet pressing on my chest.

When we arrived, I unlocked the door nervously. I wanted to warn him before he stepped inside that it wasn’t much, that it wasn’t anything like what he was used to but the words never left my mouth.

His sharp gaze swept over the cracked walls, the secondhand couch, the stack of papers on the table and I watched his lip curled up in disdain.

“So you live in this cage?” he asked coldly. The words fell off like they weren't ill ones. “Pick what matters to you. You’re moving in with me.”

The words cut deeper than I expected. I turned to him, heat flooding my face. “You can’t just decide that…”

“I can,” he interrupted smoothly, stepping closer until the air seemed thinner around me. “And I have.” His eyes flicked to the sad excuse of a bookshelf and to the clothes spilling from drawers that could no longer close properly.

“This? This isn’t a life. And I won’t have you dragging this filth into mine.”

My pride was bruised but I couldn't even argue. He wasn’t wrong, not entirely. But God, the way he said it, like I was an animal to be rescued or worse, tamed… it made humiliation rise hot in my throat.

I turned away, gripping the strap of my bag. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll just… grab a few things.” I shoved clothes into a bag deliberately ignoring his presence for the rest of the time but I could feel his shadow stretched over me.

By the time I’d gathered my essentials, a few shirts, my laptop, the one photo frame I couldn’t part with… I felt stripped bare. Not just of possessions, but of independence

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