Burning For A Stranger

Chapter six: Tension Rising

(Dominic's POV)

She said don’t.

Two syllables. Soft. Barely there. But it was all I needed to hear.

Most women who crossed my path gave in because of my name, my money, the power that came with standing at my side. They wanted what I could offer them status, indulgence, protection. None of them wanted me.

But her?

She had no idea who I was when she stepped into this club. No clue what it meant to be caught in my orbit. And yet here she was, letting me strip away her defenses one breath at a time.

Her back hit the wall, my hands framing her jaw. Her mouth was sweet and defiant, every kiss a fight she didn’t know she’d already lost.

I liked that.

The fire. The resistance. The way she made me earn every sound, every shiver.

My thumb brushed across her bottom lip as I pulled back, just enough to see her eyes. Wide. Dilated. Already drunk on me, though she hadn’t had more than a sip of whiskey.

“You taste like trouble,” I murmured.

Her lips curved. “You look like it.”

I laughed, low and genuine. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken to me like that. Like I wasn’t untouchable. Like I wasn’t a man who could ruin them with a word.

Clothes came off in fragments, her dress sliding down her shoulders, my jacket tossed aside, her breath catching as I pressed her wrists above her head. She didn’t fight it. She wanted it.

The sound she made when I kissed down her neck raw, unguarded nearly broke me. I wasn’t supposed to feel this much. I wasn’t supposed to want like this.

But she made it impossible not to.

Every curve, every tremor, every plea she tried to swallow I took them. Memorize them. Branded them into me like scars.

And as I claimed her against the window, the city lights sprawling behind us, I realized something I hadn’t in years:

This wasn’t about control anymore.

This was chaos.

Her chaos.

And I was letting it consume me.