Dominic (7 page)

Emma heard Dominic take a step toward them and then check himself. Apparently he was reluctant to interfere in another man’s way of dealing

with his dashed dreams.

Her lashes fluttered lower, and shame rouged her cheeks. “Please. Not in front of him,” she whispered.

“Do as I say,” Carlo instructed. “As an obedient wife should.”

“Very wel ,” she agreed, unsure how else to defuse this situation other than to comply. Reaching out, she traced the angry, jagged slashes that

diagonal y dissected his pelvis to arrow low toward his groin. The surrounding skin was splotched with horrible yel ow and purple bruises.

“I’m so sorry,” she commiserated, brushing her fingertips over the abrasions.

“Then show me. Lend me comfort.” His fingers tightened against her scalp, and she winced as he drew her head forward.

With a garbled sound of protest, she clawed at his offending hands. “Stop! You’re hurting!”

A masculine thumb and forefinger dug into the hinges of her jaw, forcing her lips to open and prompting her to action. Only after she lifted his

crown and took it and then the rest of him into her mouth did he release his remorseless grip.

It quickly became impossible not to distinguish the horrible difference. On the previous occasions she’d performed this service for him, the thrust

of his rod had bruised her throat with its strength and size. But now…

She felt Dominic observing them and wanted to rail at him to turn away, but her husband’s fuse was short, and she didn’t dare release him long

enough to do so.

Forcing saliva to pool in her mouth, she bathed Carlo’s meager length, earnestly undertaking the chal enge he’d set for her. Using the
O
of her lips,

she suckled him strongly, drawing back and attempting to extend him in the way he’d taught her on their wedding night. But when she inadvertently

loosened him, his shaft recoiled so unexpectedly that she lost it.

He sucked an angry breath through his teeth and quickly replaced himself in her mouth. Holding her cheeks in his hands, he rocked once, twice,

thrice, moving his flaccid cock along her tongue.

She gripped the fabric of his trousers as her cheeks pumped to the lecherous rhythm he’d set. Stroking from his root to the ridge of his crown and

back, she diligently tried to bring life to that which was dead.

Try as she might, he didn’t stir.

Then came the touch of a foreign hand. The heat of a body—a masculine one looming behind her.

Dominic!

Shocked, she attempted to jerk away from her task. But his broad fingers gently wove through her hair on either side of her skul , easily holding her

head and riding its back-and-forth movements as he watched her fel ate another man. It was as if he’d been driven to participate with them in some smal

way, to soothe her with thumbs that stroked the tendons at her nape and hands that massaged in a sensuous caress.

“A dutiful wife, is she not?” Carlo’s voice inquired from somewhere above her. “Alas, her ministrations are for naught.”

Dominic spoke at last, his voice a low command. “It is you who should be readying her with your mouth.” With a slow, lingering reluctance, his

touch left her.

At his words, her husband stil ed. Then, as though he found it impossible to disobey his companion, his touch on her fel away, too. “Yes. You’re

right, of course.”

When he stepped back, his shriveled penis slipped from her mouth, flopping free to dangle uselessly at his groin. Frustration lent his hands

unnecessary force as he shoved her from him and then yanked up his trousers and tucked himself inside.

Chestnut tresses cascaded over Emma’s shoulders, trailing on the carpet as she fel awkwardly to her hands and knees. Carlo bent to help her, as

though momentarily regretting his actions. But when she only glared up at him, he straightened away and simply finished adjusting his clothing.

Emma attempted to gather herself from the floor on her own, but with a ful -term baby housed inside her, this proved impossible.

Strong hands came under her armpits, and she found herself lifted to her feet. Dominic again. Touching her when he had no right.

Whirling away as soon as she’d regained her balance, she pushed the curtain of hair from her face and wiped her lips with the back of one wrist.

Embarrassed at what he’d been witness to and by his overly familiar behavior, she scanned his expression.

His face had taken on a grim quality, al planes and angles softened only by the shadowy beginnings of a blue-black evening stubble along his jaw.

Those eyes had seen too much, knew too much. They were molten silver, pitiless and flat. She saw her own reflection in them, but nothing of him.

“You have no right to touch another man’s wife, signore,” she rebuked, angry and confused by the fact that Carlo hadn’t bothered to chastise him.

Though his gaze was on her, it was her husband to whom he spoke. “Prepare her, Carlo. My time draws near.”

6

W
ith methodical precision, Dominic removed the weapon that hung at his side and positioned it on the mantel with the same care Emma had once seen

a concert violinist employ in the handling of his instrument. Would he take such care with a woman? she wondered.

The wayward thought shocked her into speech.

“As you say, it grows late, signore. Why do you linger here?” she demanded, wary now not only of him but of her reaction to him.

His voice when it came was softness threaded with iron. “It is for your husband to explain.”

Those long fingers of his found the top button on his uniform and purposeful y unfastened it. She took a faltering backward step, her wide eyes

riveted to that large, capable hand working at his open col ar.

Her incredulous gaze shot up to tangle with his, and what she read there confirmed her shocking deduction. Final y Carlo’s ful intentions in

bringing him here to her sank in.

“Carlo?” she gasped weakly, stil unable to believe it could be true.

“Take off that damned robe and gown and let’s get on with this.” Carlo sighed. Though his tone was weary, the resolve in it shook her.

“No!” She folded the edges of her robe one atop the other, sealing the fabric so tightly at her throat she was nearly choked. Her eyes went to the

door, but Dominic was watching her too keenly, and she knew he would prevent her from dashing through it, were she to try.

“Have you listened to nothing I’ve said?” Carlo asked, his voice ful of misery. “I can’t fuck you tonight. He can.”

Going to him, she latched urgently on to his arm, giving it a hard shake. “No!”

“Yes, darling wife. My il ustrious comrade here has graciously agreed to service you tonight in my stead. You shouldn’t find him too onerous. His

partners in Else World are said to enjoy him.”

She darted a mortified glance at Dominic. By now, al nine buttons had been released from their moorings. The vertical split in his tunic hung open

to reveal a heavily muscled chest, its sculpted velvet skin crisscrossed with the long-healed scars of vicious wounds.

“Remove your nightclothes, Emma, or I’l do it for you,” Carlo threatened. But she didn’t hear. Her attention remained fixated on that shadowy,

masculine chest. On its wel -defined ridges, planes, and val eys. Her skin tingled with awareness of him, a stranger standing half a room away. Her

fingernails dug half moons into her husband’s skin.

When she didn’t immediately comply with his wishes, Carlo turned angry. Ripping her hands away, he raised his arm as if to backhand her.

With a curt shriek, she ducked her head.

For a giant, Dominic moved quickly. Before the blow could fal , he’d blocked it.

Clasping a trembling hand over her lips, Emma eyed the door. Her view of it was framed in the gap between the two men who stood before her,

and she watched for an opportunity to bolt past them. She’d never seen her husband so out of control, not even last month.

Carlo hesitated, searching Dominic’s expression. Something he read there had him lowering his arm and coming to comfort her.

Taking both of her hands in his, he spoke earnestly. “We must take care to ensure that our child arrives into this world in good health, for I cannot

sire another in you, Emma.” His face contorted with emotion. “Give me this one gift,
cara
. I beg you. And make it a son.”

“Have you sought medical aid outside of the military hospital?” she argued, gripping his sleeve. “Is there truly no source of help for you?”

He shook his head, hopeless. When he spoke again, his tone was leaden. “There’s nothing to be done. Enjoy Dominic’s fucking of you. It wil be

the last you’l have for the rest of your days.”

For the briefest and longest of moments she stood motionless, quietly panicking as she read the immutable truth of this in his eyes. Instinct pul ed

her toward escape. She slid her hands from his and sidled along the foot of the bed, this time heading in the direction of the door that adjoined her room,

instead of toward the one that led to the hal .

The sudden heat of Dominic’s body at her back stopped her. Realizing her mistake, she tried to evade him. But fingers of iron grasped her upper

arms, imprisoning her.

Though he stil wore his tunic, it hung open now. Locked close, his sleek torso scorched her spine through her nightclothes.

She reached across herself, crumpling the cuff of his sleeve with imploring fingers. “Signore. Dominic. You must help us—”

“That’s precisely why he’s here,” her husband jeered.

“On your knees, Carlo.” She felt the words rumble in the chest behind her. Heard them expel ed from lips bent close to her ear. “Prepare her with

your mouth. Bring her to the edge of pleasure, that she might better accept me.”

But for once, Carlo didn’t leap to obey his idol. He only watched as, despite her opposition, Dominic easily drew lace and silk over her head and

tossed her clothing to the floor.

Emma yelped in alarm and slapped a palm to cover the apex of her thighs. Wrapping a concealing forearm across her breasts, she punished

Dominic’s midriff with her elbow to try to force him away.

Heedless of her efforts, he snaked a viselike arm around her, securing it just below her own at her breasts. Though he manacled her to him, his

embrace was that of elegant strength rather than the crude force her husband had employed.

Jerking his head to indicate the waning light at the window, Dominic again remonstrated with Carlo. “Daylight slips away! Ready your wife for me

before it’s too late!”

Carlo visibly shook himself from a torpor and then obediently bent to go down on one knee.

“And bring the cream.”

At Dominic’s low-voiced command, Carlo’s face drained of color. His and Emma’s eyes flew in tandem to the jar on the night table at the far side

of the bed, both gazing at it in mesmerized horror. She had earlier placed it there herself, intending it for Carlo’s use. But now it seemed another man

would employ it.

A wounded snarl sprang from Emma’s throat, and she renewed her struggles. Dominic grunted whenever a sharp elbow dented his stomach, but

otherwise he ignored her. She felt him shrug the tunic from his shoulders and then rip it off with his free hand.

Her mind raced down one avenue and then another, anxiously seeking a more palatable solution to their situation. But no other viable option

presented itself. She needed more time to think.

Without a word, Carlo secured the jar of cream, opened it, and set it upon a side table, which he brought within Dominic’s reach. Knowing exactly

what would be required once they began, her husband moved the dish of oil and one of the basins closer as wel . Then he came to stand before her at the

foot of the bed.

Emma twisted her fingers in the col ar of Carlo’s tunic, and her frantic eyes tried to catch his. “Summon Jane. And your brothers,” she begged.

“Ask them for help. Ask them if there’s another way.”

Averting his gaze, Carlo careful y detached himself from her grip. “No.”

“They won’t think less of you because you can’t perform,” she argued, accurately gauging the basis for his refusal. “Your injuries aren’t your fault.

Nor are they any cause for shame.”

Dominic’s warm breath stirred the hair at her nape as he spoke. “Do you real y think the members of your family wil welcome an interruption?

Now? Have you forgotten they wil be engaged in the same Moonful rituals as we are soon to be?”

He was right. She knew he was, yet—

The wool of his trousers rasped as his thigh split her softer ones, sending a rush of vulnerability through her. Boldly it moved ever higher between

hers until her naked, gaping flesh rode the seductive rub of its long–muscled strength. She moaned, helpless under a first, unanticipated brush of

pleasure.

Carlo sank to his knees in front of her in much the same way she had earlier knelt before him. His hand ran upward along the length of Dominic’s

thigh, which retreated to make way for him.

Catching her knees when she made a futile attempt to close them, Carlo held them wide. His thumbs parted her pursed slit, and he leaned close

until his hair tickled the underside of her bel y. “Resign yourself, Emma. Another course of action could prove disastrous.”

His tongue flicked out. She jerked at its first lash, then drew an unsteady breath as it stroked the length of her opening. Once. Twice. And then on

its third pass, it snaked inside her and out again, and then again as quickly, mimicking the thrust of a male organ.

He’d only performed this service for her once before, on the evening of their marriage. She’d found it interesting. But it had been a brief exercise

between them then, a mere tantalization too quickly withdrawn.

Now his lips and tongue worked their wiles on her far more intently and with obvious skil . Where he had honed such skil , she couldn’t help but