After a tragedy, Amila Johnson abandons her life in New York and retreats back to her birthplace of Houston. She tries to start anew but she can't get far with the skills of being an almost classically trained ballerina.
Deciding to take up her fri...
The silk robe's sash, Dominic's brown robe, didn't put up much resistance as he tugged at it. The bow fell apart with ease like her legs did an hour ago on the floor in front of the roaring fire. The sheer memory of the moment made her mouth water but it was the way he was now resting next to her on the bed watching the robe fall away from her body that made her smirk. The room's air wafted over her dewy skin birthing goosebumps along her forearm or maybe it was from the gentle kiss Dominic placed on each side of her neck. Nope. It was a group effort.
"I love your collarbones." He whispered just before sitting a pair of kisses on the body part.
Amila giggled, her hand resting on the top of his back still slightly damp from the shower they just took that quickly graduated from getting clean to the water falling down her back as he deeply penetrated her.
"What game are you playing, now?" She asked, lazily stroking his back loving the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips.
"Naming all the things I love about." He moved from her side to hover above her. The way his eyes swept over her naked body made her teeth sink into her bottom lip. He coyly smirked as his eyes matched hers. "Wanna guess the next thing I love about you?"
"Hmm." She tilted her head to the side thinking. "My eyes." She playfully blinked.
"Love those too. They're beautiful but not where my head is right now." His sight snaked down and dipped his head.
Her back arched from the way the tip of his tongue flicked her nipple. Air left her mouth as he did the same thing to her other breast.
"I love your stomach." He peppered kisses down her abdomen.
"You're really becoming addicted to this four-letter word, aren't you." She said, watching him move down her body.
"It's easy to form a habit when working with such greatness." He traced the curve of her hip with his fingertip. "Excellence and beauty crafted in one body."
She propped up on her elbows, "Were you born spittin' game or is this a talent you honed from all the women you charmed."
"I read poetry." He winked, resting his hands near her knees. He pulled her thighs apart fully opening her up. "There it is." He let her thigh go to slide a finger through her folds. "You stay wet for me. I love that shit."
"Dominic." She moaned out his name, gripped his shoulder with her other leg already around his other one. "We...just...got clean. We're supposed to be getting dinner."
He sight glanced down at her dampness and then made her accompanied with a smirk.
Amila shook her head. "No. I need substance. You eating my pussy will not fill my stomach. Man..." She dropped her leg from his shoulder and sat up. "I'm deadass hungry. Feed me."
He chuckled, pecked a quick kiss to her lips before sitting up. He looked at her for a moment as if he got lost in her eyes and then smiled.
"What?" She asked, tying her robe again.
"Marry me."
"What?" Her hands fell from the sash as she rose from her haunches. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." He stood from the bed, the towel draped around his waist almost coming undone. "Marry me. Be my wife."
"I know orgasms have people making rash decisions but..." She chuckled, pulling her hair up into a ponytail only to let it fall back down her back remembering she didn't have a hair tie. "I didn't think it would have you talking about marriage."
"It's not a rash decision." He stormed out of the room and into the closet. She didn't have to wonder what he was doing for long, he was back within a couple of seconds with a small black box in hand. "I already thought about it."
Amila's mouth dropped open as he sat on the edge of the bed, opening the box. The radiant cushion-cut diamond sitting between a pair of diamonds on the gold band rendered her silent.
Dominic read her stunned silence and said. "I know leaving you after Thanksgiving was a mistake. I'm sorry for that but you leaving me, ending our contract made me confront some hard truths."
"Really?" She said, regaining the use of her voice as her eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes." He scooted closer to her. "A realized life with just work is dull. I made all this money because I wanted to..." He paused, took a breath then continued. "I wanted to be a man that was able to treat his woman like a queen and you're that woman. I want to make you happy, bring you joy every day. Lose trivia games to you and make pies for the rest of our lives."
She smirked. "I don't think there are enough pie variations for us to make it all our lives."
"Then we'll make pecan pie forever." His grin matched hers. "I want to show you the world and make love to you in every continent." He took her hand in his. "Marry me. Be my wife. Have my kids."
Amila took in a deep breath as she thought deeply. Her eyes dropped to the ring that had to be more than five carats.
"I don't know." Her eyes went back to him. "I just started back dancing and I don't know where that is going to take me."
He smirked cockily then said, "I'm a billionaire, baby. I can go wherever the hell I want. If ballet takes you to London and San Francisco then that's where we'll go."
"You'll do that?" She looked at him with disbelief.
"I can work from anywhere." He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Plus, an engagement can be however long we need it to be."
She nodded. "All I need is a year. A year to dance."
"Then a year you'll have." He kissed her palm.
"Yes." She said confidently, sliding onto his lap straddling him. "I'll marry you. Be your wife. Damn...I love—"
His mouth canceled the rest of her words. He didn't need to hear her say it again. He knew it to be certain already and so did she. They were just fooling each other with that contract. There was no way they could just be only benefits with good conversation.
His lips left hers and moved down her neck.
"Food, Dominic." She braced his head with both of her hands pulling his face up. "I need food."
"One more time." His hands rested on her waist. "Please."
She smirked. Who could resist those big brown eyes? Or his hardness growing beneath her thigh. Not her. "Well, since you asked nicely." Her hands left his face and undid the robe's sash. She let the robe fall from her shoulders. "But I'm on top. I need to fuck my fiance right."
"Fiance. I love the sound of that." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips then flipped her on her back. "But I have time to make up for." He dropped the towel from around his waist. "Open your legs."
She did as she was instructed and fit his body against hers sliding his rigid thickness into her womb. He peered into her eyes before he started moving and she knew he was right. They were going to be dancing forever. Who'd have thought she'd find her guy after a blind date? Not her, that's for damn sure. But she was thankful her sister bumped into him at an art gallery, gave him her number, and made her go on that date. It was the best decision she ever reluctantly made.
What do you think is next for these two?
Well, we're almost to the end. Just an epilogue left. Ready?
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