Dom (Alliance, #3)

by S.J. Tilly

“Make me happy, Angel.” I glance back up, finding his blue eyes locked on mine. “Let me feed you. Eat your treat.”

Usually, I’m outgoing. I’ve been called bubbly by coworkers, and it’s fairly accurate. It often takes a lot of effort, but I try my hardest to be nice, kind, and accommodating. My therapist says it’s a defense mechanism. That I do it because I want people to like

me and I’m overcompensating for my fear of rejection. My fear of not being liked. Not being wanted.

He narrows his eyes. “Keep teasin’ me, see where it gets you.” Pretty please, let it be pinned to his bed.

I’m trying to remain calm when one big, inked finger reaches out and pauses the movie. I look at him, but he just holds up that same finger in a one sec gesture. And then I watch him take his clothes off. Okay, so it’s just his suit jacket, but he might as well be getting naked with the way my panties are soaking themselves. “Here.” Dom holds out his jacket. “What?” My voice is so breathy it sounds like I’m panting.

Out of nowhere, I’m reminded of a video I saw once. It was of a raccoon with a handful of cotton candy. He looked so happy to have it, but then he put it into a puddle, because raccoons sometimes wash their food, and it dissolved. And the look on his face… I sniff. Fuck.

me to hear him. “It’s been a long time, and this sweet-as-candy pussy is about to suck the cum right out of me. So I need you to come, Valentine. I need you to be a good little girl and come first.”

“Alright, well, it starts tonight at eight. It’s a whole building thing again, so it’s still in the atrium on the fourth floor. But I’ve heard there’s a decent buffet this year.” “Oh, a buffet,” I say sarcastically. “Yes, you rich twat, a buffet. The thing we peasants flock to because we like free food.”