The Dominator (The Dominator #1) Read Online D.D. Prince

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Dominator Series by D.D. Prince
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Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
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I think my brain made me sleep to protect me because I couldn’t process it at the time. After I’d woken, most of me underneath him, unable to move without waking him, I just stayed still and tried processing it. I was still processing it. All of it.

That necklace had come off and on him. He’d been broody for the past few days and then there it was and he settled down. He took it off to be horrible to me when I’d pissed him off and then when I put it back on he told me he loved me and passed out like he’d exhausted himself.

It was on him at the beach after our first date when he’d been so passionate. It was on him in the basement when he wasn’t upset after I’d gone downstairs before he woke up.

I’d seen him take it off a few times when he was about to be particularly horrible. He didn’t want to wear it in Mexico when he went off to enact revenge against my kidnappers. He took it off when he wanted to punish me, twice from what I could remember.

What was it with that necklace and more importantly, how could I keep it on his neck? And how would I convince him that he needed therapy? He’d been really stressed out since the hospital. He’d hardly slept the past few days. That stress on his mind and his body...did it build up to this and then erupt like a volcano, spilling molten lava all over me?

After I kissed her, I wouldn’t say she responded, but she didn’t pull away either, she looked at me like she was trying to de-code me.

Good luck with that, baby.

I pulled her tight against me and kissed her on the top of her head and we stood for a long time just watching the lightshow. I ran my hands up and down her back and her arms, just holding her close to me. I wanted her to relax against me, but she was stiff, holding her arms at her sides.

“Ready?” I finally asked after it was obvious she wasn’t going to relax.

We walked back toward the hotel, hand in hand. Then two beat cops passed us on the sidewalk just before we hit the entrance. My gaze darted to her face. She glanced at the cops and then straight ahead, the way she’d glance at anyone we passed. I squeezed her hand real quick and then let out a long breath of relief. I wasn’t sure if she noticed or not.

We got up to our suite in silence and then when we got into the bedroom she disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on.

I debated whether or not to get in with her or go to the other bathroom, but finally decided I had no choice. I had to look after her. I had to make sure we were okay.

I walked into the bathroom, took off my clothes, climbed into the shower, and found her sitting on the tiles inside the shower stall, huddled in the corner, bawling her eyes out under the running water, her face buried in her knees.

She gasped when she saw me step in and then it was like transparent shutters came down and her expression went cold.

No. Fuck no! I had to fix this.

“Tia, come here,” I said as gently as I could, despite the emotion twisting in my gut, and motioned for her to get up.

She did, but robotically. I took her face into my hands and I kissed her and pulled her tight to me.

She stood there, trembling, despite the fact that the shower was scalding hot.

“Put your arms around me, baby, please?” I pleaded with her.

She did, but it felt robotic, too. I soaped up my hands and started on her back, rubbing my hands up and down. I massaged her shoulders and then took a step back and started on her beautiful breasts, moving my soapy hands up and down and then massaging her throat while softly kissing her face.

She reached over and took the shampoo and squeezed some onto her palm and then started to rub it into her hair, squeezing her eyes shut tight and focusing on her shampooing as if I wasn’t even touching her. I let go of her and started to scrub myself instead. She turned her back on me and got further under the stream. When she was rinsed off, she said, “Excuse me,” not looking at me, and then she squeezed by me and left the shower. I leaned against the wall and contemplated what to do next.

I could hear her blow-drying her hair outside the shower stall.

I got cleaned up and tried to let the hot water wash something, I didn’t know what, that was part of me, away. Yes, I’d wanted her pissed, I wanted her provoked so I could bring her to heel and satisfy my urges and work off my frustration, but it had gone off the rails. I never knew she’d run from me. The time between her taking off and her telling me she was back in the room put me over the edge. I knew she wasn’t far, I had a GPS in her ring and had seen she wasn’t far, but the fact that she’d pushed back that hard made me lose my shit like I’d never before lost it with a woman.


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