Read Online A Dominant Fallen (A Dominant Series Book 2) by Lena Black - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lena Black
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him.
“Yes, and I want to know how you could sound so disconnected when you speak of these things that have happened to you. Why won’t you deal with everything that has occurred? Why won’t you let me in, Gabrielle?”
“I’m terrified, okay?!” I shout back and tears trickle from my eyes. I cross my arms and begin to silently weep. He grabs me up into his arms and places his cheek atop my head, rubbing my back in a soothing motion until the crying stops.
He pinches my chin between his thumb and finger, tenderly lifting my face up. He stares down at me with that conflicted air and then quickly diverts us away from the subject. “I’m going to make us dinner, and I want you to get in the shower and get ready.”
“Get ready? Get ready for what?” I ask, perking up a bit.
“It’s a surprise,” he answers with a sweet, soft smirk on his face.
“Well, if it’s a surprise, how will I know what to wear? I wouldn’t want to overdress.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose.
“I was hoping we could stay in tonight.” He can hear the disappointment in my voice.
“Elle, trust me.” I take a deep breath and shake my head weakly. “That’s my girl. Now, go take a nice, long shower and everything you need will be lying on the bed when you finish. I will be waiting for you in the main room when you’re done. Clear?”
“Yes, crystal.”
“Excellent.” He releases me, and I stand there for a moment, waiting for what, I’m unsure. “Go ahead.”
He gently spins me around and taps me on the butt, sending me on my way.
A fter buffing and shining myself from head to toe, I head back into the bedroom, and just as Hunt said there would be, this evening’s getup has been laid out on the bed for me. It’s a black taffeta gown, strapless, with a sweetheart neckline, fitted bodice, and a curve-hugging fit. It’s simple yet elegant.
Lying next to my gown is a corset, garter belt, and stockings, all black, but no panties. I realize what he means by this, as he never misses a detail, especially one that involves my panties.
He’s probably saving himself the trouble of having to rip them off. Damian Hunt, Pantie Killer. This thought perks me up. I wonder what he has in store for me tonight.
I walk over to the bed and grab the contents placed neatly atop it, taking them into the closet with me to get ready for my night of surprises.
O nce I’ve applied the last coat of make-up and pinned the last of my wavy hair in place, I take a long scan in the bathroom mirror, studying the strange woman I see before me. I make sure my make-up isn’t plastered on and my half up half down do is in order. Flawless.
Shit, Maya and Hunt were right about my appearance, I do appear smaller.
The gown that would’ve been snug on me a few months ago, feels a bit loose now. As I stare blankly at my altered image, I hear the faint sound of music coming from downstairs, my cue to join him for dinner.
I sigh heavily and exit the bathroom, nervous and excited. I’m actually becoming anxious about sleeping with Damian, as if it were our first time. Maybe it’s just jitters from not being together for so long, an eternity it seems, or the constant turn of events hindering us from consummating our newly mended relationship, building it up to nerve-wracking expectations. I shake it off.
I walk out of the bedroom and down the hall, the music growing louder as I near the top of the stairs. When I arrive, I pause to stare at Hunt, my dark prince, looking downright awestruck, his penetrating green gaze fixed on me. A look I return, as I take in the vision of male beauty in his black tuxedo, chocolaty brown hair slicked back, and a pearly white grin.
He’s standing next to a small square table with a black tablecloth, two long tapered candles, and a short bouquet of brilliant purple lilies in the center.
I slowly make my way down to him, being careful not to trip in my white
“Yes, and I want to know how you could sound so disconnected when you speak of these things that have happened to you. Why won’t you deal with everything that has occurred? Why won’t you let me in, Gabrielle?”
“I’m terrified, okay?!” I shout back and tears trickle from my eyes. I cross my arms and begin to silently weep. He grabs me up into his arms and places his cheek atop my head, rubbing my back in a soothing motion until the crying stops.
He pinches my chin between his thumb and finger, tenderly lifting my face up. He stares down at me with that conflicted air and then quickly diverts us away from the subject. “I’m going to make us dinner, and I want you to get in the shower and get ready.”
“Get ready? Get ready for what?” I ask, perking up a bit.
“It’s a surprise,” he answers with a sweet, soft smirk on his face.
“Well, if it’s a surprise, how will I know what to wear? I wouldn’t want to overdress.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose.
“I was hoping we could stay in tonight.” He can hear the disappointment in my voice.
“Elle, trust me.” I take a deep breath and shake my head weakly. “That’s my girl. Now, go take a nice, long shower and everything you need will be lying on the bed when you finish. I will be waiting for you in the main room when you’re done. Clear?”
“Yes, crystal.”
“Excellent.” He releases me, and I stand there for a moment, waiting for what, I’m unsure. “Go ahead.”
He gently spins me around and taps me on the butt, sending me on my way.
A fter buffing and shining myself from head to toe, I head back into the bedroom, and just as Hunt said there would be, this evening’s getup has been laid out on the bed for me. It’s a black taffeta gown, strapless, with a sweetheart neckline, fitted bodice, and a curve-hugging fit. It’s simple yet elegant.
Lying next to my gown is a corset, garter belt, and stockings, all black, but no panties. I realize what he means by this, as he never misses a detail, especially one that involves my panties.
He’s probably saving himself the trouble of having to rip them off. Damian Hunt, Pantie Killer. This thought perks me up. I wonder what he has in store for me tonight.
I walk over to the bed and grab the contents placed neatly atop it, taking them into the closet with me to get ready for my night of surprises.
O nce I’ve applied the last coat of make-up and pinned the last of my wavy hair in place, I take a long scan in the bathroom mirror, studying the strange woman I see before me. I make sure my make-up isn’t plastered on and my half up half down do is in order. Flawless.
Shit, Maya and Hunt were right about my appearance, I do appear smaller.
The gown that would’ve been snug on me a few months ago, feels a bit loose now. As I stare blankly at my altered image, I hear the faint sound of music coming from downstairs, my cue to join him for dinner.
I sigh heavily and exit the bathroom, nervous and excited. I’m actually becoming anxious about sleeping with Damian, as if it were our first time. Maybe it’s just jitters from not being together for so long, an eternity it seems, or the constant turn of events hindering us from consummating our newly mended relationship, building it up to nerve-wracking expectations. I shake it off.
I walk out of the bedroom and down the hall, the music growing louder as I near the top of the stairs. When I arrive, I pause to stare at Hunt, my dark prince, looking downright awestruck, his penetrating green gaze fixed on me. A look I return, as I take in the vision of male beauty in his black tuxedo, chocolaty brown hair slicked back, and a pearly white grin.
He’s standing next to a small square table with a black tablecloth, two long tapered candles, and a short bouquet of brilliant purple lilies in the center.
I slowly make my way down to him, being careful not to trip in my white
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