His powerful healing spell plowed right through the barrier I’d put on my own regeneration, which was a troubling thought, really. No druid should be able to slice through a dragon-kin’s spell like butter. Arch’s were different, though, which I had almost forgotten. And Dom in particular had always been unbelievably strong. I’d felt it even when he’d been just a teenager whom I’d had occasional, and very limited, contact with.

He let go of me quickly when he finished. I was standing so close to him, almost between his legs. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Gods, I wanted him. It was like a switch that had been in the OFF position for seven long years of total abstinence. All it took was proximity to this man and suddenly it was ON, and all of my self-control was gone. I was known for my self-control. I was practically famous for it. But how much could I possibly have if I couldn’t go five minutes in this man’s presence without giving in to my hunger? The answer was obvious.

I was on him, almost against my will, a second later. I was still fighting with myself even as my body took action. I was straddling him in his chair, pulling his head back with both hands, and pressing my mouth against his roughly. He ripped off my wig, and grabbed a handful of my hair, hard. He pulled my head back slowly, looking into my eyes. His own were positively electrifying. “What. Are. You. Doing?” he growled.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. I ruined it a second later when I whispered, “Please, Dom,” and moved against him.

“I hate you,” he growled at me, right before he caved.

“I know, baby. I think there’s a club you can join for that now,” I replied, trying to hide the catch in my voice.

He reached up into my micro-mini latex skirt and tore off my thong with one vicious motion. It took a few beats longer for me to release his hard length. I gripped him tightly, moaning. He was already impossibly hard and ready.

He shoved my hand away quickly, grabbing my hips and impaling me onto his length in one savage thrust. It was, perhaps, a punishment of sorts. But whatever he intended, it was exactly what my body craved. I screamed, coming instantly. He didn’t miss a heartbeat, setting a punishing pace that had me quickly building toward the pinnacle again. I put my hands on his broad, hard-muscled shoulders, stroking, and he stood, still impaling me, until I was shoved roughly against the heavy wooden blinds that covered the huge windows of his office. Only his erection held me upright as he wrenched my hands above my head, gripping my wrists tightly, then started thrusting again, hard and fast and angry. I wrapped my legs around his hips, arching into his thrusts.

I felt the blinds give behind me as something broke above our heads. Dom didn’t miss a beat. Turning, he cleared the surface of his desk in one quick swipe, the sound of breaking things surrounding us as it all hit the floor. He lowered me to the surface, and continued to thrust.

I felt another orgasm coming, and tried to slow it down, wanting to wait for him this time. He gripped my chin hard, never slowing. “Look at me,” he said. I’d been avoiding the intimacy of eye contact before that, not wanting to be reminded of all that we’d lost, but I did as he said. His hand moved from my chin to my neck, squeezing, exerting just the right amount of pressure.

His beautiful, other-worldly eyes were angry as he commanded,“Come.”

I did almost instantly. His voice was a trigger. “Domhnall,” I cried hoarsely.

“No one calls me that,” he said without stopping.

We came together with the desperation of seven hard years of separation.

We tore up his office. Papers flew, priceless sculptures were knocked over without a second thought. We split his beautiful black desk right down the middle near the finish. I knew it was in spite of himself that his hard eyes turned tender at the end. My eyes had been there the whole time, I knew. He fingered my now magenta hair, bringing a lock to his mouth. We cried each others names when we came. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I turned my face away to hide it.

I ran my hands over his shortly cropped black hair. “Oh, Dom, your hair,” I whispered to him, a break in my voice. He had been lying on top of me for a while. He stood when I spoke, wrenching out of my embrace. He started righting his clothes. I lay as I was, letting him eye me up in my sprawled, undignified position. “You told Mav that my hair changed color during sex. I never figured you to kiss and tell.” He went completely still, and I was perfectly aware of what I’d revealed.

“I didn’t reign in much of what I said or did, the first few months after you left. My uncle kept me tranq-ed at the beginning, after what I did to Declan. His killing was perfectly legal in the arena, but they were still a little alarmed about my state of mind…due to the- viciousness of it. It is a fact that we can ascend to the Arch position through right of combat. But my Uncle knows, better than most, that I could not have kept the position without support. And nothing will lose the druid people’s trust faster than a lack of control. There has already been too many civil wars. A clear head means peace. What I did to Declan was not controlled. My Uncle did his utmost to salvage my political aspirations. He wanted to prevent a repeat performance, and so kept me sedated. I can’t even say what I must have revealed, when I was so impaired.” He was much calmer now. I’m sure his release had helped. “So was this to convince me to help you?” he asked coldly. It hurt, but I knew a good opening when I heard it. I told myself it was better for both of us that he hated me. When he had loved me, and I had left, people had bled. A lot of people.

I shrugged. “Did it convince you?” I asked. I stretched slowly, arching my back. He had yanked down the front of my corset earlier, and I was well aware of the view he was getting. I cupped my br**sts in my hands, caressing myself firmly in the way I knew he loved. I pinched my ni**les roughly, never looking away from his hungry gaze.

His nostrils flared when he said. “I could use more convincing,” he snarled, and was on me. Well, that had backfired. We were at it again.

“So it was Mav and Michael,” he panted into my ear after we finished.

“Yes,” I answered, though he already knew the answer.

He climbed off of me and found his phone amid the mess his desk now made on the floor. He dialed a number and spoke quickly. “Cam, I want Mav and Michael in custody immediately. No, don’t tell them anything. They know what they’ve done.” He set the phone down and just stared at me for awhile. I stared back.

Tags: R.K. Lilley Heretic Daughters Vampires
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