Chapter 18: Chapter 18
Music Recommendation: Bring me back to life by Chris Gray, Allegra Jordyn.
......
The crowd below buzzed in oblivion.
Paddles raised and fell but none of those were any business to Celeste.
Dominic leaned in, mouth against her ear, he said with a voice low and dangerous.
"Take them off," Dominic murmured.
She froze, and turned to him.
Her eyes were wide when she met his. Her breath turned shallow. "Here?"
He didn’t blink. "Here."
The word hit her like a command.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, trying to find sense in anything. But the look in his eyes stripped her down until she was nothing but pulse and heat and need.
And obedience.
With trembling fingers, she reached beneath the slit of her gown. The silk whispered when she parted her legs. Just enough to touch herself, realease a low moan, and reach for her waist. Her hand disappeared beneath the fabric, and she felt the brush of lace against her skin.
She slipped it down over her hips and thighs. Every movement was agony and arousal, wrapped in one.
She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t.
The lace slid off her ankle and hung loose in her hand. She turned to him, and he was already waiting.
His hand was out, palm open.
She placed the black lace in his hand. She swallowed when she did that. It felt like she was handing him the last piece of control she had.
Dominic looked down at the panties in his palm. A slow, deliberate breath escaped his lips. Then he tucked the fabric into the inner pocket of his jacket.
Without a word, he reached for her. His hand disappeared under her gown.
Celeste gasped when two fingers parted her. She swallowed, sharp and sudden.
He inhaled softly, his lips twitching in satisfaction as his bare, and warm long fingers filled her up.
"Already this wet for me?" he murmured, voice like smoke curling into her ear. "You were waiting for this."
Her nails dug into the plush velvet armrest. She couldn’t speak. She could barely even think. All her focus was on the rhythm of his fingers. He was slow and exact, extremely teasing, knowing, and devastating.
Her thighs trembled, and her breath hitched.
She bit down on her bottom lip so hard that she tasted blood. She didn’t want to moan. People were around.
"Eyes on me," he whispered.
She turned her face toward him, her eyes glassy, with her mouth parted.
Dominic watched her unravel. His jaw clenched as he watched every tiny twitch, and every helpless sigh fluttered past her lips.
It drove him mad.
Still hidden by the shadows and fabric, his hand worked her mercilessly. His thumb pressed right where she needed it most, circling slowly, cruelly, until she was on the edge of something she couldn’t name.
She arched slightly in her seat. Her eyes were wide, with fear of being seen, yet desperate enough not to stop.
"You’re going to make a mess on this chair," he muttered, voice laced with dark pride. "You like being touched where people can’t see?"
She whimpered.
His fingers slid deeper.
Her entire body tensed. "Let go," he breathed.
She didn’t mean to. She wanted to fight it. But her hips jerked once, twice— And then she shattered.
Clutching the armrest, her legs trembling as her entire body lit up with pleasure so intense it felt like pain.
Dominic never looked away.
Even as she collapsed against the seat, flushed and boneless, panting into the curve of her arm, he held her gaze like he owned her.
"Let’s leave," he offered.
"What?" She questioned but sat up quickly when she saw a knowing smirk at the corner of his mouth. "Let’s go."
....
The hallway outside the auction hall was suddenly longer than Celeste remembered on their way home.
Dominic’s hand pressed against her lower back, possessive and dangerous, guiding her toward the private elevator like she already belonged to him.
Celeste’s pulse throbbed beneath her skin. She could still feel the ghost of his fingers, and the way her body had responded without hesitation. Her thighs were damp with her own juice. Her breath was short. She hated how much she wanted more.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. She stepped in without questions, and he followed.
And as soon as the doors closed, the silence thickened. The tension grew teeth.
Dominic didn’t touch her. He simply stood beside her, tall and unreadable, watching her through the mirrored walls as the elevator climbed.
Celeste’s hands clenched by her sides. She could see her own reflection. Lips parted, cheeks flushed, and eyes wild. She didn’t look like herself.
The air between them pulsed.
"You’re shaking," he murmured.
"I’m not," she whispered back, even though she was.
He paused, and then smirked. "You will be."
The elevator pinged at the top floor.
The moment the doors opened, everything shifted.
Dominic reached for her wrist, and led her out. His penthouse was wide and expansive, a sea of marble, shadows, and glass. City lights poured in through floor-to-ceiling windows, but none of it mattered.
He didn’t speak as he turned her around, his hands coming up to cup her face. For a second, Celeste thought he might kiss her gently. Instead, his lips hovered just above hers.
"You’re mine tonight," he said, low and final. "No safeword. Just obedience."
Her heart slammed once against her ribs. And she nodded, staring at him from under her eyelashes. She looked so small and tiny.
That was all it took. He kissed her.
And the world went black.
He didn’t walk her to the bedroom. He carried her.
One arm beneath her knees, the other behind her back. Celeste clung to his neck as he strode through the hall, his mouth devouring her neck, her collarbone, and tasting every inch of skin his lips could reach.
He dropped her onto the mattress, and stared at her. He didn’t fumble, nor did he undress her gently. He stripped her.
The gown slid off her body like a whisper, leaving her bare and burning under his stare. He only looked, with his eyes dragging from her parted knees, to her peaked breasts, and then, to her swollen lips.
He dropped to his knees before her, like a helpless man.
"Spread," he ordered, voice rougher now. A little more unhinged.
Celeste’s legs parted, helpless and willing.