A Dominant Salvation (A Dominant Series Book 3) Read online

  A Dominant Salvation

  Lena Black

  A Dominant Salvation

  By

  Lena Black

  Copyright © 2017 Lena Black

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Editing: Joshua Minette & Julie Cameron

  Cover design: Double J Book Graphics

  Cover image: www.depositphotos.com

  Dedicated to

  The Ladies in Black

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Music

  Prologue

  I loathe them, despise them with everything I am. Who the fuck do they think they are? They shove their happiness in my face, showing off their blissfulness, boasting really. When he touches her, as if he has the right, I want nothing more than to slice his fucking throat from ear-to-ear and stand over his trembling shell until the last useless breath escapes his lungs.

  She’s mine.

  She has always been mine.

  I found her sleeping in his bed all those years ago, not him. I watched over her. I took care of anything and anyone who got between us. I was her unwavering rock through the tides. It was my hand she clutched when the waters got rough, even if she never knew it. After everything we’ve been through together, I’m sure as shit not going to allow him to get in the way of what belongs to me.

  I’m going to knock him down a peg, hit him where he fucking lives, break him apart brick by brick and watch him collapse beneath my wrath. I want him a broken man on his knees, emasculated and whimpering for leniency in the wake of my destruction. But he won’t know compassion. He has refused to pay me respect, forcing me to post-date the checks of kindness to him.

  I’ll take everything from him, rip his heart out, and squeeze until it disintegrates.

  The leather of my glove constricts as I curl my hand into a fist, imagining the beating organ clamped in its grasp. The sublime rush of adrenaline rips through my veins.

  I spy her coming, phone placed to her ear, oblivious to her surroundings and final minutes. Her mistake is my advantage. I’m finally going to have my revenge, and she will plead for my mercy.

  Chapter One

  Hindsight

  January 2014

  We arrived at my club, Prey, just after midnight. I’d chosen the name for one simple reason. I had always seen clubs as dark, loud breeding grounds, where men would come to stalk their nightly prey like wild animals in heat.

  I entered with a group of business associates looking to have a good time after closing a deal. They were horny fuckers, interested in nothing more than getting their dicks wet. I found them a group of young women happy to spend their money, one being a rather stunning brunette. She was hanging on my every word all night. If I wanted her in bed, I could’ve taken her to the dungeon and screwed her into a vegetable, too weak to move, to think. But I had my sights on another, for longer than I was used to pursuing a woman, and any other seemed less than appealing. Except this woman who haunted my dreams and thoughts was off limits to me.

  We were headed to my table in the back when I sensed a sudden charge in the air, a stirring in my gut attracting me toward the dancefloor. I’d never felt that kind of pull before, this raw intensity thickening the atmosphere until it was impossible to breathe. My eyes searched the swarm of people, grinding and dry humping to the music. Then the earth shifted and everything decelerated around me, as if someone had hit slow motion on a remote control.

  The horde of dancers parted and revealed a blonde in the middle of the floor, swaying to the music as if it flowed through her lush body. Her lids closed, she was lost in the melody, entranced by it. Her hair cascaded over her full breasts, swinging about her with every graceful movement.

  She was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen. I was mesmerized, taken by her innocent beauty, by that…angel. She was even more stunning than her pictures or my memory could’ve done her justice. There she was, in the gorgeous flesh, just feet from me. For the first time in the years I’d lusted for her, she was within reach. I wasn’t prepared to see her yet, not until the contract signing the following Monday. I’d been preparing that deal for six months with one intention, to get closer to her, to finally touch her, to feel her warmth under my fingertips.

  I remained frozen, studying her, willing her to open her eyes for me. As if she heard my thoughts, felt me, her light eyes opened, widening when they locked with mine. She stared back at me, paralyzed where she stood. I observed her with pensive concentration, making note of every inch of her lovely body. The corners of my lips curved in a lopsided grin as I thought of the defiling acts I wanted to perform on her, with her, for her. I wanted to possess this woman, control and nurture her.

  Her focus was ripped away, lending me an opportunity to move closer to examine the creature that had captivated me. I disappeared into the crowd, my eyes never leaving her. When she looked back to where I’d been standing, her brow crinkled and a worrisome expression plagued her face. It had upset her when she’d lost track of me. It thrilled me.

  Her friend grabbed her attention once more, and she began dancing again, allowing me the pleasure of observing the way she moved from a nearer point of view. She started swaying her hips with exaggerated thrusts, dipping low, and coming back up slowly. She felt me there, watching her with an unbreakable attentiveness. Nothing short of an earthquake could’ve broken my focus. She put on a show, entertained me, provoked me, turned me on. She liked to be watched.

  Exhibitionist, I thought, I’ve never had one of those.

  I had planned to remain a voyeur, but I’d seen enough. I wanted her body against mine. I knew if I could hold her, it would satiate the itch in me.

  The DJ spun into a slower song, and they headed toward the back of the club. I moved in with purpose, snatching her forearm with a firm hand. She spun back to me, stunned briefly. When she didn’t slap me in the face, as I was certain she would, I directed her to the center of the floor, keeping my gaze glued on her eyes, enthralled. I halted and brought her into my hold, pressing the softness of her against the rigidness of me. It was the first time I’d ever felt what I came to learn was a sense of being whole. I felt whole with her in my arms, as if she�
��d been there a million times before.

  We lazily rocked to the music, moving against each other. The feeling was tantalizing. She started to move with me, shifting one of her legs between mine. I slid my hands up and down her body, held her to me, felt the way she fit with me. I stared deep into her blue eyes, attempting to crawl inside, wanting to explore every inch of her body inside and out. I wanted more, and I realized, a little of her would never be enough. Like heroine, each fix would have to be bigger and bigger.

  When the song ended, we stood there grasping one another, drinking each other in.

  She was waiting for me to speak. I couldn’t very well tell her the truth. What would I have said? I’ve been watching you for years, and I want to fuck you more than I need life. I settled with, “I don’t mean to be discourteous, but when I saw you moving on the dancefloor, I felt compelled to meet you.” She gawked at me, keeping those plump lips sealed. After an agonizing couple minutes, I couldn’t take it any longer. “Tell me your name.”

  I knew her name. I’d heard it time and time again. I knew it and her very well, through gloating conversation with Marshall and Elizabeth. I knew her favorite flower was white lilies, her favorite color was green, that she graduated from a university in Washington state, that she lived in the city, that she knew my sisters in high school, and was currently employed at the magazine I was about to acquire.

  “Gabrielle.” Her tongue flicked on Elle as it passed her fuck me lips. I wanted nothing more than my tongue to flick on Elle…over and over again. “Yours?”

  Yes, you are.

  She stared at me from under the thick lashes that have brushed my cheek while I held her in my arms. It almost knocked me on my ass.

  “Damian,” I growled from deep in my chest. I scanned her up and down in a manner that bared her. “Let me buy you a drink,” I offered.

  “No,” she choked out. “Thank you. I should have a drink waiting for me at my table.”

  She attempted to turn away from me. No one had ever turned their back on me before, and my hooked arm ensured she wouldn’t either.

  “Do you mind?” she asked, glancing down at my brazen arm and then back up to my face. Amused by her strong-willed nature, a grin kinked my lips. I wanted this woman. I wanted to break her, to ruin her for any man that came after me.

  I left without her, her number, or the brunette I arrived with. I had Elle on the brain. I knew no one else would or could satisfy that grating need. I wanted Elle and only Elle. I wouldn’t be able to function until I had her, which lead me to my next problem.

  Marshall Benedict Hyde, business partner and personal friend. I assured him and myself I wouldn’t turn his daughter into another conquest. It would be the only promise I’d ever break.

  Seven months later

  I take her small hand in mine, weak and limp from the drugs invading her system, and vow to take down Dante no matter the cost. Watching your wife sleep off drugs isn’t an ideal way to spend your wedding night, but it gave me time to think about the path that brought us here. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, specifically those first weeks before she said she’d be mine.

  “Come on, angel.”

  I softly run my fingertips over her face, feeling the smooth texture of her strawberry and cream skin under the rough pads, willing her blue eyes to open. Her lids flutter, and I squeeze her hand, guiding her back to me.

  “I’m here, Elle. Come back to me,” I call her out from the darkness. I continue to caress her cheek, easing her into wakefulness. Her eyes still closed, she nuzzles it into my palm, a weak moan crawling up her throat.

  “There’s my girl.”

  Her lashes part only a sliver, her lids like lead from the drugs. I smile at her through her hazed stupor.

  “Where’s Dante?”

  She tries to spring upright and grasps her hands to my upper arms when a rush of wooziness hits her. She’s still out of it. She must be so confused and exhausted. One second, we’re celebrating our future together. The next, she’s waking in the honeymoon suite of my aunt’s bed & breakfast.

  “He disappeared,” I answer, ashamed I couldn’t give her a better one.

  She sits back, slumping against the brass headboard.

  “And the note?”

  “Liam took it, along with the bouquet, to be tested.”

  “Tested for what?”

  “We believe you were drugged.”

  I don’t want to say for certain until we get the results, but I know better. I’ve seen this firsthand.

  “Through a piece of paper?”

  “They soak through the skin. But we need to wait for the results before we’ll be totally sure.”

  Gradually, it seems to dawn on her. We’re no longer on the floor in the middle of our wedding reception. She looks past me, out the window where sun pours through the glass panes in a bright stream, her eyes widening.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Fifteen hours.”

  “Christ.” She presses her palm to her forehead. It must throb with every beat of her heart. Hard drugs can cause quiet the nasty hangover.

  “Head?”

  “Like it was kicked by a donkey.”

  “A symptom of being drugged.” My jaw ticks. “Let me get you Advil and water.”

  “Please.”

  I rise from the bed and disappear into the bathroom.

  When I walk back out, she’s staring at her gown folded over the footboard, appearing disappointed she’s no longer wearing it anymore. I’m disappointed I didn’t get to take it off her…with my teeth. But her well-being is more important than anything else. She peeks under the covers to confirm her nakedness.

  I stroll over to her and hold out the glass of water and my fisted hand, dropping the little pills into her open palm. She sits back against the brass railing of the headboard, the covers falling away from her breasts, and drinks them down. I take the empty cup from her once she’s finished and set it on the table beside me.

  “I wish last night had ended differently,” she comments, catching my eyes lingering on her heavy breasts. Not my finest moment. But I am a man after all.

  I reach up and sweep my knuckles over the side of her face. She nearly purrs. “We have a lifetime to make it up to each other.”

  “Well,” she climbs into my lap and wraps her arms about my neck, “I suppose we can start on the honeymoon.” She nibbles on my ear, and I stiffen. She pulls herself away to look me in the eyes. I avoid them. I’ve met royalty and done business with the most powerful people in the world. Yet, I can’t look my wife in the eye and tell her the bad news. She brings me to my knees.

  “We need to talk.” I move her off my lap and onto the bed.

  “What?”

  “This isn’t the best time for us to leave. Not with all this going on.”

  I’m furious with Dante, for drugging Elle, for ruining our wedding night, and now our honeymoon. She was looking forward to it. I was looking forward to it.

  “Actually, when you think about it,” she says, “now’s the perfect time to leave because this is going on. We could be halfway across the world.”

  “What if there’s an emergency?”

  “Liam is perfectly capable of handling any emergencies. He is the head of your security detail. Plus, I believe they have cell service in Greece. And you’re forgetting one thing,” she leans in and nips at my chin, “me, naked and lounging in the Greek sun.”

  “You make a convincing argument.”

  “I have a good teacher.”

  I bring my lips onto hers, but don’t move them or try to further the kiss. My fingertips move tenderly over her shoulders and arms.

  “I never could deny you, Elle,” I murmur against her sweet mouth and then pull away unhurriedly, tasting her off my bottom lip with a sweep of my tongue. “But I’m afraid I have to this time. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

  She must know I have the best intentions. Even though I’m disheartened my cocksucker of a
brother has gotten to us...again, I won’t allow him to get between us.

  “I understand, Damian.” She sets her hand on my chest, over my heart. “I’m yours. That’s all that matters. We’ll have our own little honeymoon at the Artemis.”

  “What did I do to have you?”

  “I feel the

  “You know,” I utter, removing her hand and glimpsing at the circular symbols of tradition adorning her finger, “self-preservation is a human’s number one instinct. Since the early days of man, we’ve paired off for the purpose of survival. The male would tie his mate to him with a cord of dry, braided reeds until eventually Stockholm syndrome set in and all he needed to bind the female to him was a simple band of twine on her ankle or wrist or finger, a reminder she was his, and he was hers.”

  “You say such pretty things, slick.” She chuckles. “What are you getting at?”

  “There’s no one on this planet I’d rather survive with than you.” I place my lips against her temple and take an elongated breath, smelling the calming scent of my wife, like vanilla and lavender.

  “And there’s no one I’d rather be bound to than you,” she whispers and then sinks into me with a sigh.

  I cradle her in my lap, my hand running over her sleep-mussed hair.

  “We should probably get you dressed. Our family’s been worried about you all night.”

  “Everyone’s still here?”

  “They refused to leave until they knew you were alright.”

  “Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

  Chapter Two

  Spanksgiving

  Present

  I gasp out his name and topple onto the mattress, a sweaty, satisfied mess, clinging to the sheets while I come down from my sensational sexual high. Hunt’s my favorite vice, and I want to overindulge on him.

  He climbs on top of me, shifting between my thighs, kissing me over my face and neck. With those piercing pools of emerald, he lifts his head to stare down into my heavy eyes, running his fingers through my sex-battered honey hair, and breathes a sigh of relief and contentment.