“I’m awake.” His voice was deep and sent a ripple of anticipation through her body.
She heard the rustle of a wrapper, and her mouth went dry with want.
He parted her thighs and didn’t even check that she was ready for him. He knew. He knew how turned on she was and how desperate she was for him to fill her up.
She groaned when he did. Panted and clawed the sheets as sensation rocked her. His thrusts made her want this never to end, never to stop. To lie here forever with that delicious friction gliding through her body, ratcheting the tension higher and higher until her nerves felt like guitar strings about to snap.
He shifted them until he was on top of her, the heavy weight of him shifting her thighs wider apart, pressing her hips into the mattress, controlling her range of movement, so that there was no way for her to climax in this position but the arousal still built to almost unbearable levels. Her body was trembling and shaking and still he wouldn’t give her what she desperately wanted.
“Dom,” she groaned.
He lay flat against her, taking most of his weight on his elbows, but still immobilizing her with his strength, only the tip of him inside her, making her hungry for more, making her want to back into him and take him deeper.
“What?” His breath brushed her ear before his teeth bit gently into her earlobe.
“Please…” It was as close to begging as she’d ever get. As close to telling him how much she wanted him—not just his body—but him, all of him.
What was it about this man that hooked into a woman’s blood stream and made her addicted? No wonder women turned up on his doorstep with offerings.
Fuck me and I’ll bake for you. Fuck me and I’ll do anything…
He held her tight against him and then put his arm around her waist and pulled her body upright, maneuvering them closer to the headboard before bracing her hands against the top of it. She was completely open to him now. He held onto her hips, pumping faster, hitting her g-spot and then spreading his fingers around her clit before clamping down on that sensitive little bud. She pushed back against him, matching his thrusts and his strength. She wanted this madness to reach its peak and to shove her careening off that ledge at a thousand feet without a parachute. She had never felt this out of control, nor this controlled by another person before.
It was heady. It was terrifying.
Dominic’s other hand cupped her breast, and she was the one holding them up now as he delivered the trifecta of assaults of her senses. Finally, finally, an atomic bomb of pleasure crashed through her, and she shattered into a million sparkling pieces with Dominic crying out as he followed her, holding himself deep inside her as he came.
Slowly they both collapsed onto the sheets, and Dominic wrapped her in his embrace as he nuzzled her neck.
Neither said a word.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mallory, Alex and Lincoln Frazer stood on the pool deck outside Dominic Sheridan’s beautiful home. Except it wasn’t so beautiful anymore. The downstairs windows were trashed. Shattered glass everywhere, gleaming edges jagged and dangerous.
The sun was coming up even though it wasn’t yet six AM. The security company had been monitoring the place but had been unable to reach Sheridan or Sheridan’s boss, Quentin Savage, who was listed as the emergency contact. They’d eventually tracked down someone in the Crisis Negotiation Unit who’d known enough about what was going on to call Frazer. The security company had called the local cops, but by the time they’d got out here nearly forty minutes had passed and the culprit was long gone.
Alex showed her and Frazer the video surveillance footage using his phone. A dark figure approached wearing heavy black clothing, a ski mask, black gloves. There were no identifying features. No tics. No tells. No way of figuring out who the hell had perpetrated the vandalism—or why.
“They obviously knew he was away,” Frazer said. “They made no effort to break in. Where’s Sheridan’s dog?”
“Staying with a neighbor who has a farm,” Mallory replied.
“They walk in and out of the woods like they know the way and aren’t in any hurry,” Alex said calmly.
“Think they’ve been spying on Sheridan?”
Alex met her gaze. “They’ve definitely been watching him.”
Mallory glanced at the woods with a shiver. “Should we get tracker dogs in?”
At the place where they’d found Caroline Perry’s car the bloodhounds had led them back to the road but they’d become confused about which direction to go in. After an hour the handler had given up.
“Wouldn’t do any harm. Might lead us to some sort of hide. Although…” Alex started walking in the direction of the woods.
Even though Mallory didn’t want to follow, she did, and so did Frazer. Being summer, the undergrowth was thick and lush, draped in ominous shadows. The scent was of pollen and crushed grass, not the rot and decay of fall.
Mal was grateful that birds were sitting on branches and singing happily. It helped. A little.
Alex followed the path into the trees and led them to a gate in the six-foot tall wooden fence that surrounded the property. Alex stepped aside as Frazer slipped on a glove to carefully open it. Evidence Recovery Techs would dust for prints and DNA later, but it was unlikely the trespasser had left anything behind.
“Why do this?” Mallory asked Frazer, slowing down to catch her breath. No matter how she tried to pretend otherwise, her pregnancy was making it harder to do her job. Maybe she should have stayed in the office like Frazer had suggested. One day she’d listen to someone besides her own stubbornness.
“You okay?” Alex asked, coming back to her side.
Frazer glanced at her sharply and stopped walking.
“I’m fine.” She waved them both off, although she could already do with a nap. “Why break his windows? It seems petty and small for someone who has committed murder.”