Famished, Meghan O'Flynn [free ebooks romance novels .txt] 📗

I love you, Daddy, please…

You’ll like it. It won’t hurt if you just lie still.

I struggled against him, but he held my wrists tight, his face contorted in a grimace. He pushed closer. I cried out, yanking at my hands, throwing my knees up, gnashing my teeth when he lowered his head.

No, not again, no, no, no…

“Hannah, stop.”

The voice was not his. Daddy? No…

My eyes flew open. Someone was on top of me, pinning my wrists to the mattress. My breath came in ragged gasps.

“Stop.” His face swam into focus, nose inches from mine. Dominic.

He’ll help me get away. I was still trying to hit him. I stilled.

Dominic released my arms and climbed off the bed. His skin glistened under the waning moon that shone through the skylights as he headed for the bathroom.

Daddy.

Dominic.

I touched my face. It was wet, but my heart was slowing.

Stop. It didn’t work when Tammy said it, or when I tried to tell myself to knock it off. But somehow, it was different coming from Dominic.

He returned, stretching an arm out to me. “Come on.”

“What?” I took his offered hand and let him lead me across the room, around the stairs, and into the weight room. A chill brushed my damp shoulders, and I shivered. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter. Put your shoes on.”

“I think they’re downstairs.”

“I put them here, where they go.” He gestured under the bench.

What the hell? I tied them quickly.

“Treadmill.”

I gaped at him.

“Trust me.”

I got on, sleepy muscles protesting.

He stood at the head of the machine and pushed the button. It hummed to life. “Start slow and tell me when you feel warmed up.”

I walked, faster, faster, shrugging and rolling the tension from my shoulders as the stiffness in my leg muscles eased.

“Ready?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

He punched the button. I ran, breasts flopping all over the place under my tank top. Thank goodness I didn’t have torpedo tits, or I’d give myself a black eye. Maybe he liked torpedo tits. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to touch me. But I couldn’t think about it because the track was flying beneath me.

Sweat poured down my back. I gasped for breath.

“Dom…I…maybe—”

“You can do it. Keep going.”

I can’t.

He stared hard at me. I stared back and ran until there was nothing else, nothing but the treadmill and his eyes.

The machine beeped twice and skidded to a halt. My heart thudded in my temples.

“Weights.”

“I’ve…never done…weights before,” I panted.

“Good time to learn.”

“In the…middle…of the night?”

He shrugged and held out a barbell. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Am I? He kept saying it, so maybe it was true. I took the weight and let him lead me through a set of curls. And another. My muscles shrieked and burned.

“Last ten.”

I pushed harder.

“Now squats.”

“Dominic, I can’t.”

“Stop saying that and do it.”

I did. One. Another. Ten. Twenty. My jelly legs threatened to buckle.

“Stop,” he said, and my muscles seemed to skid to a halt in response to his voice.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a bowl of pudding. And now I want pudding.” I rested my face on the glass and saw his eye twitch in the mirror. Saw the smear on the glass from my sweaty face. I peeled my forehead from the mirror and stood. “Sorry, I’ll get that later.”

He nodded and held out his hand.

What now? Much more and I’d pass out.

“Shower. Then bed. I doubt you’ll have more dreams.”

My dream. I had forgotten all about it.

Under the shower’s hot spray, my muscles melted. He stood behind me and soaped my hair. I leaned back against him.

“Turn around.” His hand slid over my breasts, down my rib cage, between my legs. Another hand teased my nipple, flicking until it was hard. A fire rose in me. An intense liquid heat that spread through my belly and settled between my legs, pulsing and wanting. So this was passion. Real passion, something I had never experienced, something I had been so worried was just a onetime fluke in Dominic’s office. Somewhere inside me, a dam was breaking. His fingers slid into me.

I moaned and turned to him. He lifted me by my thighs and pressed me against the shower wall. The spray from the dual showerheads caressed my hair and sent rivulets of water down my body, awakening the nerves beneath my skin. And then he was inside me, hard but so gentle, so warm, massaging me from the inside. He captured my mouth with his.

I felt. I felt him. I felt everything, every wave crashing over me, every beat of our hearts throbbing in time to my lower body. My insides convulsed, shuddered, released. I screamed his name, over and over again, unable to close my mouth, unable to think.

I didn’t feel the shower turn off. I only vaguely felt his hands wrapping a towel around my back, carrying me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed. The cotton felt like silk against my back as he climbed in next to me and stroked the tender nub between my legs. Even in the dark, the colors of the world seemed brighter, each muted shade of gray more vibrant than I remembered. Through the skylight, stars glimmered, dazzling but nearly unrecognizable as if every star I had seen before tonight was a different, duller breed. My eyes prickled in spite of myself.

Dominic stopped touching me and shifted his weight to the side, moving his hand near my shoulder. “Are you crying?”

I wiped my eyes. “I worried that it was just luck or something. At the office.”

“Luck?”

“No one has ever made me…well, you know.”

He touched my cheek, trailed his fingers down over my neck to my chest and circled my nipple with his thumb. “They’ve been doing it wrong.” He climbed between my legs and slid into me. My hips rose automatically, seeking him.

He put his mouth to my ear and rotated his hips, slowly, sensuously. “Had I known you had this concern, I would have proven it to you before now. I assumed you wanted to get acclimated to your surroundings.” His breath was feathery against my earlobe.

He had been waiting for me to be ready. He cared. My feelings mattered. “And today? Now?”

He rose above me and smiled. “I thought it might help.”

“Oh, it did.” I really did feel okay with him. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but it had to mean something.

“I’m glad the shower helped you feel better,” he said. “It didn’t do anything bad for me, either.”

“Well, thank goodness for that.”

He thrust slowly, deeply, every inch of him exquisite, then faster, more urgently. I flung my legs wide and let him take me, clinging to him, pleasure surging through me until I was sure I would burst. When I could take no more, we fell asleep, side by side, my leg hooked over his hip.

When Dominic awoke, he was alone in the bed. He sat, listening. Not a sound save for the gentle tapping of rain or sleet against the skylight, a wake-up call far preferable to the muffled crying and swift