Chapter 181: Chapter 181 Unspoken Secrets
Elara
By the end of the night, Dominic was completely wasted. I called our driver to come pick us up.
"Elara, let me drive you two home," Logan offered, genuine concern in his voice.
I shook my head. "We’re good. You guys should head out. We’ll wait for our car."
Logan hesitated, then squeezed my shoulder before leaving with the others.
I scooted my chair closer to Dominic.
The man was drunk off his ass, his eyes half-closed and glassy. Heat rolled off him in waves. He’d unbuttoned half his shirt, looking like he’d been through a blender.
Right now, Dominic almost looked... harmless.
That word had no business being anywhere near this man. Ever.
I touched his flushed cheek. "Hey, Dom. When did you start liking me? Really?"
He straightened up with a dopey grin. "How’d you figure out I like you, beautiful?"
"Don’t mess with me. Three years ago? You liked me three years ago?"
"Mmm..." His eyes drifted shut, that lazy smile still there. But he was clearly not tracking.
"You’ve been carrying a torch for me this whole time?"
Nothing.
I sighed, tracing my finger along his bottom lip. "Dominic, when did this all start?"
My eyes dropped to his open collar, where I could see the edge of my name tattooed over his heart. Three years old.
Something twisted in my chest.
Before I could think better of it, I leaned in and kissed him.
"Excuse me, miss? We need to clean up." A server cleared her throat behind us.
I jerked back to find her staring at us like I was some predator taking advantage of a drunk guy.
Christ. Could this night get any worse?
"Sorry, we’re leaving now." My face could have lit up a Christmas tree.
I half-dragged, half-carried Dominic to the lobby. Thank God our driver was waiting outside.
Drunk Dominic was surprisingly docile. No fighting, no attitude. He let me maneuver him around like an oversized golden retriever.
Back home, after getting him cleaned up, I was beat.
But I still couldn’t stand the whiskey smell radiating off him. I grabbed a pillow and headed for the guest room.
Some questions were better left for tomorrow.
--
The next morning, I found Dominic half-sitting against the headboard, one hand pressed to his forehead. Classic hangover posture.
"You’re alive?" I walked closer.
"Barely." He looked up at me, those amber eyes genuinely apologetic. "Babe, I’m sorry about last night. Did I keep you up?"
I shook my head. "No. You slept alone."
"But you were pretty chatty when you were wasted. Said some interesting stuff."
Dominic went rigid. "Like what?"
"Nothing major."
I smiled innocently. "Just that you’ve had a thing for me since way back."
"Bullshit." The denial came way too fast.
His eyes narrowed. "Are you fishing for information?"
My playful mood died. "Whatever. You smell like a distillery. Go shower."
"And change these sheets. The whole room reeks."
Dominic’s tongue pressed against his teeth as he chuckled low. "Already sick of your mate?"
He slid out of bed, then swept me over his shoulder in one fluid motion, heading straight for the bathroom.
I yelped. "Dominic, what the hell?"
His voice dropped low. "Babe, nobody ever teach you not to poke a hungover alpha?"
The second we hit the bathroom, my clothes were gone.
He grabbed the hem of my tank and ripped it. Not pulled. Ripped.
The sound tore through the quiet bathroom and I felt the cold air hit my skin.
"Dominic, wait—"
"Shut up." His voice was pure gravel.
He dropped to his knees and yanked my shorts down with one pull.
No teasing. No slow build. Just his mouth on me, hot and wet, his tongue finding my clit before I even knew what was happening.
I screamed. My hands flew to his hair, gripping tight.
He made this filthy sound against me, like he was enjoying himself way too much.
His tongue moved fast, then slow, then fast again, and I was already shaking.
"You woke me up," he muttered against me, his breath making me twitch. "Now you deal with the consequences."
"I’m sorry—" I could barely get the words out.
"No you’re not." He was right. I wasn’t.
He stood up and spun me around, pressing my chest flat against the cold mirror. I heard his sleep pants hit the floor.
Felt him line up behind me. He pushed inside me in one deep, hard thrust and I cried out, my palms sliding against the glass.
"You feel that?" His hand gripped my hip, hard enough to bruise.
His other hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me back against him. "This is what you get for poking the alpha."
I couldn’t answer.
He was too deep. Moving too fast.
His hips slammed into me, the sound of skin on skin filling the bathroom.
The mirror fogged up from our breath. My body was on fire.
"Look at us," he growled. "Look how good you take me."
I forced my eyes open.
In the foggy glass, I could see him behind me.
His chest was heaving, his eyes dark, his hair a total mess. He looked wild. Like he hadn’t fully woken up yet and was just running on pure instinct.
That made it even hotter.
Two hours later, we finally emerged. My legs were pure jello.
"We’ve totally blown past our limit!" I tried to sound stern but came out breathless instead. "Way beyond what we agreed on!"
Dominic looked completely refreshed, hangover erased. He buttoned his shirt with maddening slowness. "What limit?"
"Don’t play dumb! Our agreement. The papers we both signed!"
"Oh, that thing." His smile turned wicked. "Sweetheart, we’re way past contract territory now. Your copy was in your desk drawer, right?"
He leaned closer, amber eyes gleaming. "Shredded both copies weeks ago."
