Cam’s primal roar followed and the heat of his ejaculate prompted another tiny orgasm to flare, which he prolonged with short snaps of his hips.
She went limp as the synapses in her brain shorted out. Cam released his hold on her. After she fell face first on the mattress, Cam withdrew and a rush of wetness trickled down the inside of her thigh.
Undone. She was completely spent. He’d most likely ruined her for all other men the sex was so volatile. In the hazy aftermath of such explosive passion, she heard the sound of clothing being righted.
No. That couldn’t be right. Cam wasn’t just…leaving after he’d screwed her nearly unconscious, was he?
He tugged the robe tie, freeing her arms. He massaged her shoulders and slid the silk scarf off her eyes.
Blinking several times, Domini let Cam roll her onto her back. Very gingerly, he untangled the strands of her hair covering her face. Then his thumb followed the arch of her eyebrow as he cradled her head in his hand. “Jesus, Domini. You’re beautiful. You stun me.”
Not what she was expecting. Nor did she anticipate his achingly gentle kiss that lingered on her mouth and seemed to seep into her soul.
Domini lifted her hand, needing to touch him, but the second her fingers connected with the scar, he retreated.
“I have to go,” he said, as if he were trying to convince himself. “Sleep well and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before she pushed herself upright, she heard the door close and he was gone.
What the hell had just happened?
She’d done everything he’d demanded or asked of her—true, she’d done it because she’d wanted to, not just because he’d commandeered her sexual responses as his right.
Why had Cam dressed fast and raced out like he suddenly remembered he had another engagement?
Dressed. Wait a minute. That was the third time they’d had sex. The fourth time they’d had sexual contact if she counted the time they’d messed around on the couch. By all rights she should’ve already explored his remarkable body. Sucked his ni**les and raked her fingernails down his muscular back. Licked the bulging muscles in his arms. Traced his rippled six-pack abs with her tongue. Kissed her way from his belly button to his hipbones. Scraped her nails down his thighs. Nibbled on his knees. Tested his feet to see if they were ticklish.
Knees and feet? Cam only has one knee and one foot.
Domini clapped her hand over her mouth as the truth jarred her. His reaction tonight wasn’t an oversight in a moment of passion; it’d been calculated, like all their sexual encounters had been.
Cam, that sneaky jerk, didn’t want her to see his prosthesis. Tonight he’d blindfolded her so when he did strip down, she couldn’t see anything.
Domini tried to wrap her head around the fact he always bent her over the closest horizontal surface. He’d not allowed additional touching, no eye contact. And by bending her over, three freakin’ times now, she wouldn’t feel the difference of his artificial leg as he pounded into her from behind. She’d just remember how hot and kinky it was that he f**ked her so thoroughly.
Don’t move. Keep your hands just like that.
If he commanded her during the actual act of sex as well as foreplay, then she’d be less inclined to disobey and reach back to grab his thigh. Or the stump where his thigh used to be.
Damn him. Cam could continue keeping her off balance by seeing to her sexual needs, especially when she’d already given him control. Was Cam hoping all Domini would remember in the aftermath when she was alone was the blazing hot sex?
Yes.
Well, she had news for him. Not happening. Next time he’d come to her honestly, with the same trust she’d shown him, the same willingness to put himself out there, or he wouldn’t come to her at all.
And neither of them would come.
Domini grabbed her robe off the floor and hoped a shower would cool her burst of anger.
But somehow she doubted it.
Chapter Seven
“Domini, can I have a glass of milk?”
She set the blue marker in the crack of the coloring book. “Pretty soon you’ll start mooing.”
Anton shrugged. “I like it.”
She ruffled his blond hair. “To be honest, your milk addiction gives me an excuse to keep cookies around.” She filled Anton’s favorite Denver Broncos mug. As she plunked it on the table, she peered over his shoulder at what he’d been working on with such diligence.
Her jaw dropped. She’d always considered Anton’s artistic skills advanced for a seven-year-old boy, but this was beyond anything she’d seen so far. It was a pencil drawing of the road leading out of town. In the left hand corner was a small rendering of the building she lived in, which had a glow about it.
The depth perception was incredible, the telephone poles, the fence line, the pavement decreased in size and breadth, fading away until it was barely a speck. The landscape was stark and minimal, but it was the overall tone of the picture that left Domini feeling bleak.
Did Anton feel that way? Or was this just a picture?
Domini realized he’d gone utterly still. Was he waiting for her to criticize his work? “Anton, this is amazing. Did you just do that today?”
He reached for his milk and his legs began to swing under the table again. “Uh-huh.”
“Can I have it when you’re done with it?”
A beat of hesitation, then, “You really want it?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“’Cause it’s not happy. My mom only wants the happy pictures I draw.”
“I like all kinds of pictures.” Domini couldn’t resist smoothing his cowlick. “What were you thinking about when you drew this?”
Another drink of milk. “Sometimes I watch out the back window when mom is driving home. I keep watching until your building is tiny. Just like this.” He pointed at the drawing. “I’m thinking about you because I miss you.” He paused and said softly, “I wish you still lived with us.”
“I miss you too. But I understand why your mom wanted to have a place for just the two of you.”
Anton’s head whipped up. His pale blue eyes shone with accusation. “But it isn’t just the two of us. He comes over all the time now.”
Domini froze. Only one nameless he in Anton’s life. “Your father has been there?”
“Betcha she didn’t tell you that, huh?”
“No, she didn’t.” Nadia and Rex. There was a good reason Nadia kept her contact with her ex to the absolute minimum—the man was an abusive ass**le. “Is she trying to make you spend time with him?”