Dom (Alliance, #3)

by S.J. Tilly

And I don’t want to be hated. I just want to be loved.

“Life is too short not to lean in, my Valentine.” My Valentine. Jesus.

This is only a moment. I will be happy in another moment.

Savannah, my half brother’s wife, is the only Vass I don’t share blood with, but I think she might be the only one who really loves me. The only family I have that feels true affection toward me, not just obligation.

I grin as I raise my head. “Yeah, I’m not really into the whole getting caught thing.” His smirk makes me feel like he wants to say something but decides not to.

“I really like you.” I make sure I whisper it this time. Those lips press against my temple once more. “I’m going to remind you that you said that.”

“You. Are. My. Wife.” He punctuates each word with a step, stopping directly before me. “And people need to know that. If I can’t trust you to wear a ring, I’ll mark you myself for everyone to see.”

And if the heart inside my chest hadn’t already been turned into a diamond through decades of pressure, the expression on her face would break it.

If my loneliness can help save even one person, it’s worth it.

“I’ve done bad things, Valentine.” I brush my lips over her pinkened cheek. “But I’ll always be good to you.”

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear when I tattooed your name across my fucking throat. This”—I tap the letters—“is so everyone knows who I belong to.” I’ve never given someone this sort of claim over me, and it feels fantastic. “And inking the last words of my vow to you above my fucking dick.” I reach down and cup my hand over the front of my pants. “That’s all for you, Angel. So when you’re ready to wrap those lips around my cock and take me into your throat, you’ll be eye level with my promise to you. Even on your knees, I’ll still be yours.”

Dominic leans in closer to me, and his eyes reveal the fakeness of his calm exterior. “If someone hurts you, I will kill them. Do not attempt to stop me.”

He’s trying to push me away. But I slam my fist right back down, right into that same spot. A tendril of panic crawls up my spine. Because this man knows about my wife. He knows about my Valentine. And no one will ever touch her.

“There was no fighting me, Valentine. You’re mine. There is nothing you could have done to make that not true.” Her jaw muscles move as she swallows. “Tell me.” “I’m yours.” I pull in a deep inhale through my nose, filling my lungs. I was looking for I understand, but I’m yours is so much better. “Say that again,” I demand. She stares me in the eyes and tells me, “I’m yours.”

“Because I wanted to keep you, Angel. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”