I returned to sifting through the bag, looking for a long-sleeve shirt to wear. “Because I freed myself. I grew wings and flew away. Freedom.”
There was a knock on the door, and I froze.
“Food,” he said as he stepped toward the door. He opened it just enough to get the boxes in and hand over some cash.
Cash. Crap.
I had a stash of cash I forgot to grab. It wasn’t much, but a couple hundred dollars that was probably confiscated when they trashed my apartment.
The only things I had to my name were in the few bags sitting on the floor. I was about to check the contents of my Louis Vuitton when the scent of pizza hit my senses and I began to salivate.
I almost jumped him for the cardboard boxes in his hand, but he held me at bay with a look.
“Drink this first,” he said, holding out a bottle of Coke.
I didn’t ask why. Instead, I chugged the soda, moaning at the sweetness that bubbled on my tongue.
“Oh, sweet heaven.” Once it was half empty, he handed me a slice of pizza.
“Eat slowly. Don’t just devour it.”
“Why?” I asked. Every part of me said to take the entire thing in one bite.
“So that you don’t throw it up. You haven’t had much. You need to take it slowly to get your body used to food again.”
I blinked at him. “Why are you being so…caring?” There had been instances over the last weeks, ones laced with his dominance, but it didn’t feel the same.
“Eat.”
Apparently the time for revelations was over.
As much as it pained me, I took small bites, and when I’d eaten a whole slice, he had me finish the Coke before handing me a second slice. I got only halfway through it, despite my body begging to inhale the entire pie.
“Fuck, this is good,” I said as I took one last bite before surrendering.
“Try for more in an hour,” he said, moving the boxes to the dresser.
I finally took the time to look around. It was unlike any hotel I’d ever stayed in by less than a few stars. Everything was dated, dirty, and stained, but it was a big step up from my cage.
I fell back onto the mattress, a moan crawling out of me. The mattress was old and lacked a pillow top, but it was clean, as was I.
The bed dipped beside me and I turned to find Domenico propped up against the headboard, his long legs extended.
“I haven’t decided if I should thank you or not,” I said.
A deep chuckle, something I wasn’t used to, rumbled from him. “All those times you said that to Roman and you never saw through that friendly facade. I free you, and you have to think about it.”
I shrugged. “Different reactions. A smile goes a long way.”
“To making people believe you’re something you’re not.”
“It’s politeness as well,” I pointed out.
His eyes met mine. “So if I fucked you with a smile, would I fall into that category?”
“Hmm, I suppose not.”
I turned back to stare at the opposite wall. “It was all his act.”
“You’ve never been anyone that you weren’t.” It was a statement. La Bestia was who he was through and through.
“No reason to be. I am who I am.”
I rolled onto my side and scooted closer, drawn to the warmth of his body. “I wish I was that confident in my own self-image.”
“Is that why you dance?” he asked.
My brow scrunched. “What do you mean?”
“Why do you dance? Why choose to do that?”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. While not lies, secrets sat just below the water, ready to bubble up and be exposed. “Why not?”
“There are other ways to make money.”
“Maybe,” I said, not mentioning the need for proper identification, which I didn’t have. I’d bought my car in cash, Al had registered it for me, and I’d made damn sure to drive by the rules. Al had also paid me under the table. I wasn’t the only runaway, and at times I thought he felt like a surrogate father and helped how he could.
At nineteen, I had a crash course in life and he helped to guide me.
I sat up and faced him. “But they’re just another cage. Dancing is freedom. Dancing is power and control. What I do, the way I move, entices. I control the game—I control what is done. I control how turned on a man is. And I control whether or not he touches me.”
He straightened at my last words. “That’s it, isn’t it? Someone touched you.”
His perceptiveness was spot on again. “Someone forced me to stand naked in a room full of men after ripping the clothes from my body and calling me a whore. Someone who was stronger and more powerful than me touched me to show his dominance and to put me in line.”
I blinked away the wetness filling my eyes. After over three years I still feared him. His home was not my home. It held no comfort or sense of family. No, he had killed it all until it was a temple, a testament to his power.
“Then I touched you.”
I blinked at him. He had. Again and again. It didn’t matter if I wanted it—he’d taken me. And I had to admit one of my deepest shames—I did want it. Every single time. In his grip, a possessive passion set me aflame.
He’d never hurt me. He’d grabbed me and dominated me but never truly hurt me.
I crawled up the bed to him and straddled his hips. I tore at his belt. The button of his jeans and his fly were next. Then my hand was inside his jeans. His dick was limp but began to fill as I pulled it out.
A groan rumbled from deep in his chest. I fisted his growing cock, running my hand up and down.
His hands landed on my hips, fingers digging in. My arms stretched as he pushed me back.
“Ella,” he growled as he tried to pry me off, but I could see the lust darkening his eyes, taking over. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Then don’t. And it’s Ari,” I reminded him.
I wanted this, wanted him. It was a desperation inside me. A need crawling in my veins, expanding like a virus. I needed to know the difference between the man making a show and his true desires.
Still dominant, but different, reverent.
I stood and pulled my yoga pants and thong down. They were just past my knees when Domenico leaned forward and ran his tongue against my slit, giving my clit a little flick at the end. My knees went weak and I fell forward. He caught me and settled me right over his face.
I drew in a ragged breath, my fingers tightening on his hair, fisting it as he devoured my pussy. I was practically seeing stars, and I couldn’t stop sharp little moans from slipping past my lips. His eyes were hooded as he stared up at me, watching me.
My legs shook and he gave one last long lick before pulling my leg from my pants and moving me down to where the head of his cock kissed my opening. His hands left me, arms spreading open.
His eyes never left me. “Take it.”
I stared at him, trying to understand. I lifted my hips, thinking he would grab my waist and plunge into me, but he didn’t move.
Take it.
Take the power back.
I cradled his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his before reaching between us and repositioning him.
I sank down on him, my lips parting as he filled me. Euphoria, fireworks, and every other wondrous feeling collided the deeper he went.