Divine Domination

by Lili Valente

  He flicked his tongue across her aching tip, summoning a sigh of bliss and surrender from her lips. “We use each other. And for everything I learn about being a better, stronger man, I’m rewarded by getting a little closer to you.”

  She swallowed, overwhelmed with sensation and emotion and not sure how much longer she could resist the urge to speak.

  “So never doubt that you can trust me, sunshine,” he said, urging her onto her side with a firm hand. “I won’t hurt you, I won’t let you down, and I won’t leave, no matter how deep we go or what we find there.” He curled his body behind hers, his cock teasing at her entrance, making her want to sob with relief. “I couldn’t escape from you any more than I could escape from my own skin, and I wouldn’t want to.”

  The erotic torment had driven her to the edge, but it was the love in his voice as he proved that he understood her better than anyone in the world that made her break.

  She pulled in a breath, not sure what she was going to say, only that she had to say something, when he whispered against her neck—

  “Tell me if this makes the pain too intense.”

  —and pushed inside her, his thick cock spearing through where she was so swollen and wet.

  She cried out, a desperate, guttural sound that came from a primal place inside of her only Jackson had ever reached. His thrust stretched the sensitive skin where the clothespins gripped her, intensifying the sting until it hurt, but the hurt was soon eclipsed by the bliss of Jackson sliding home, filling her completely.

  Her head fell back with a groan. “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, it’s too much?” he asked, breath hot on her neck.

  “No, sir,” she panted. “Not too much. I like it. I love it. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He kissed her shoulder, a tender kiss that became something darker when he parted his teeth and bit down, summoning another groan from her throat and a rush of heat between her legs.

  “Yes, yes,” she chanted, arching her back, easing the way for his next thrust to shove a little deeper. “Don’t stop, sir. Don’t ever stop.”

  With a growl, Jackson wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist, holding her tight as he began to fuck her harder, faster, driving them both toward that bright, clear place at the end of the game where they would burn together.

  Hannah’s fingers clawed at the air above her head and her arm muscles pulled whip tight, desperate to touch, to hold, to reach back and dig her fingernails into the thick muscles of Jackson’s ass as he rode her, but she was bound too tight to escape.

  And damn if the frustration didn’t drive her need even higher.

  By the time Jackson’s palm slid down her belly to her clit, she was already a whisper away. All it took was the barest pressure of his fingertips on her sensitized skin and his sharp command to, “Come for me,” and she was gone.

  Gone. Lost. Found. Above it all but more a part of Jackson than she had ever been before.

  Even as pleasure turned her body inside out, drowning her in bliss and magic, she was still with Jackson, so in tune with his every movement, his every breath, that she knew the exact moment he joined her in the fall. His cock swelled thicker, hotter inside of her and he came in long, wrenching bursts that made him cry out in what sounded like pain.

  But it wasn’t pain that made him squeeze her tight, holding on for dear life as they rode the waves of pleasure together. It wasn’t pain that made him mumble sweet, wonderful things she could barely understand in her ear as they writhed together, drawing out the release until it felt like they would be like this forever, tangled and twisted and lost together in the best way.

  And it wasn’t pain that made him kiss her cheek tenderly as he removed the pins, the binding on her nipples, and the soft fabric tying her hands before reaching for the back of her blindfold and slipping the knot free.

  Hannah blinked as she rubbed feeling back into her hands, waiting for the fuzziness to fade from the edges of her vision before she turned to look over her shoulder to find Jackson propped up on his good arm watching her. “Hi,” she said, feeling shy, the way she sometimes did when they went somewhere new together.

  “Hi,” he said, lips curving in a soft smile.

  Hannah was returning the grin when she saw the blood staining the bandage covering Jackson’s bullet wound and concern swept in to banish the rosy post-scene haze. “Jackson, you’re bleeding.”

  “I don’t care. It was worth it,” he said, still smiling as he caught her arm, holding her on the bed beside him when she would have jumped up to grab the first aid supplies. “Stay. It won’t hurt to put off a new bandage for ten minutes.”

  Hannah sighed as she relaxed back onto the sheets, knowing that yelling at him wouldn’t do any good now. And at least it wasn’t a lot of blood.

  Besides, she didn’t want to leap out of bed just yet. She needed a few minutes to stare up into his eyes while her head and heart absorbed all the things she’d learned. “You’re really good at that,” she finally said.

  “At what?” His smile went cocky around the edges.

  Hannah laughed. “All that. All that that that you did just then.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, grin fading though his eyes still sparkled. “I meant it. You make me better. This makes me better.”

  “I know. Me too.” She turned, curling closer to his chest, inhaling the sweat and sex smell of him, knowing it would always be one of her favorite scents in the world. “I don’t think we’ll ever reach the end of that road, do you?”

  “No.” He rested his hand on her ass, giving her an affectionate pat. “But it sure will be fun trying.”

  She giggled again, so sated and pleasured and content that she was certain she wanted for nothing. And then Jackson said—

  “Will you marry me, sunshine?”

  —and she realized that there is always room for a little more happiness.

  She propped up on one arm, meeting his soft gaze, awed that this was the same man she’d met two months ago. He was still strong, stubborn, and determined to have his way, but now he was also thoughtful and caring and loved her with a bravery that was humbling.

  “Should I wait and ask again tomorrow morning?” His eyes searched hers, the spark of uncertainty in their depths as sweet as it was unnecessary. “I had something romantic planned involving mimosas, but I just…I didn’t want to wait.”

  “Me either,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him with her next words. “Yes, Jackson Hawke, I will marry you.”

  “Thank you,” he said, the relief in his voice making her smile against his lips.

  “I’m already yours. Might as well make it official.”

  He hummed appreciatively into her mouth and kissed her gently, but thoroughly.

  And as they made love again—slower and sweeter this time, coming together with the unpracticed ease of two people who were made to fit just right—Hannah silently gave thanks for the man in her arms. He was precious, irreplaceable, and no longer anything close to a monster.

  He was all man now.

  And all hers.

  EPILOGUE

  Two months later

  Jackson

  They were married in Samoa and decided to stay. Tropical islands without extradition treaties weren’t easy to come by and the fact that Samoa was relatively close to Tahiti and Hannah’s aunt was all it took to seal the deal. They settled into a cottage by the beach, spent their honeymoon making love until they lost track of where one of them ended and the other began, and started shopping for investment property.

  After years of running an apparently cursed bed and breakfast, Hannah was reluctant to get back in the lodging business and Jackson had no interest in opening a restaurant or tourist shop. His finances were in excellent shape, but he preferred to operate businesses that were easier to keep in the black.

  Near the end of January, Hannah had found a job working for a charity that helped native women start small businesses that lifted their families out
of poverty. While Jackson was proud of her and the good work she was doing, he missed their long days on the beach and became increasingly aware that he had gone soft during his recovery.

  He stepped up his workouts and eventually fell in with three men who ran the same route he did every morning. Over post-run coffee at a local café, he learned that they owned a gym near the town center and worked part time providing security for visiting dignitaries. Once they heard about Jackson’s service in the marines, they were eager to hire him on to the team.

  Needing something to occupy his hours while Hannah was gone, he agreed, with the stipulation that he had to be home no later than six Monday through Thursday and he never worked Friday through Sunday, Hannah’s days off.

  And so it was that Jackson found himself wearing a gun holster and an ear piece, standing outside the Chinese embassy in Apia, waiting for the ambassador he was shadowing to conclude his business for the day when a man in a straw hat and a white guayabera shirt walked out of the covered market across the street and up the steps into the shade beside him.

  Normally, Jackson would have immediately been on alert, but there was something familiar about the man, something that put him at ease, even when the stranger stepped a little too close and kept his gaze tipped down, concealing his face.

  “I heard you were out of the smuggling business,” the man said in a light, easy voice. “But I didn’t expect to see you in law enforcement.”

  “I’m not,” Jackson said in an equally mild tone, even as he calculated how long it would take him to get his gun free. This man knew about his past and had come all the way to Samoa to find him. That didn’t bode well, no matter how non-threatening he appeared. “I work part time as a personal protection specialist.”

  The man grunted in amusement. “A bodyguard. I wouldn’t think there would be much need for that kind of thing in a place like this.”

  “People find things to be afraid of,” Jackson replied, easing back a step, trying to get a look beneath the brim of the man’s hat. “Even in paradise.”

  “I suppose so.” The man tucked his chin closer to his chest. “And you’ve always been good at putting people’s fears to rest.”

  “Who are you?” Jackson asked bluntly. His client could be out any minute and he needed to find out if this man was a threat to his or Hannah’s safety before that happened. “What do you want?”

  The man laughed. “I’m a ghost. But a friendly one. I don’t mean you or your wife any harm. I saw her on her way to work this morning, by the way. She’s the kind of person who has a smile for everyone isn’t she?”

  “I’m not going to discuss my wife with you,” Jackson said, trying to keep the anger building inside of him from his voice. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

  “No, I suppose I haven’t.” The man sighed. “This seemed easier from half a world away. I didn’t think it would still feel so raw, but it does. Even knowing she’s not Harley, it was hard to watch her walk down the street.”

  Jackson reached out, gripping the stranger’s arm, but the moment the man lifted his face he wasn’t a stranger any longer. Jackson pulled his hand away with a shake of his head, certain he was seeing things.

  But then, if Harley could come back from the dead, why not his best friend?

  “Clay.” Jackson shook his head again, still expecting the man’s features to rearrange themselves into someone else’s face. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I am. As far as anyone who used to know me is concerned.” Clay’s mouth twisted into a hard smile. “I can’t tell you who I am now. I shouldn’t be here at all, but I owe you things I don’t owe anyone else. First and foremost among them, an apology.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I do,” Clay insisted. “Because I believed her. I believed that you beat her and frightened her and all the other lies she told. I wanted it to be okay to fall in love with my best friend’s girlfriend so I let myself believe.”

  He turned, staring out at the street, where sweating men on bicycles vied for space with tiny, rust-tinged cars. “And when I woke up in a hospital eight months after the crash, I kept on believing for years after I should have realized the truth. There’s no excuse for what I did and I’m not here asking for forgiveness.”

  Jackson started to insist that he was too happy with the way his life had worked out to regret anything that had brought him to where he was now, but Clay turned to him and said—

  “I’m just here to let you know that the boy is mine and I intend to take care of him.”

  “Harley’s son?” he asked, pushing on when Clay nodded. “How do you know? I had a man working on a DNA test, but Harley and the boy disappeared again before he could get a hair sample.”

  “I have resources at my disposal not even you can imagine,” Clay said, a hint of his old humor in his tone. “I know the boy is mine and I know you’ve been removed from the CIA’s watch list.”

  Jackson’s brows lifted. “Is that so?”

  “It is. Though I wouldn’t plan on a move back to the States anytime soon. Better to give everyone a cooling off period.”

  “I have no plans to move,” he said, his thoughts racing. “My wife and I enjoy island living.”

  Was Clay CIA or simply higher up some criminal food chain than Jackson had ever climbed? He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He trusted Clay’s intelligence and he trusted that his old friend wanted nothing from him but to make amends. That was all he needed to know. Anything else would only put him and Hannah in danger.

  But he couldn’t resist asking for one small favor, for Hannah’s sake.

  “You won’t hurt her,” Jackson said softly. “I know she’s a monster, but she’s also my wife’s sister.”

  Clay looked surprised, but only for a moment before he regained control of his features. “No, I won’t hurt her. I haven’t changed that much. But I’m going to make sure my son is taken care of.”

  “Hannah says Harley loves the boy,” Jackson said though he couldn’t believe he was putting in a good word for the bitch who had ruined his life.

  But then, it wasn’t ruined. Not anymore. He was the happiest he’d ever been. Hannah was worth the years of rage and all the injustice. She was worth every second of hell Harley had put him through and more.

  “You must be happy,” Clay said with a sharp laugh. “The Jackson I knew wasn’t the kind to forgive or forget.”

  Jackson shrugged. “I had to make a choice between punishing the woman I hated and pleasing the woman I love. It wasn’t a hard call to make.”

  Clay cast an appraising look his way before nodding slowly. “Well, I’m glad for you. You deserve the sweet life on the beach with a pretty girl.”

  “You know better than most that we don’t get what we deserve,” Jackson said, casting a glance over his shoulder at the door to the embassy before turning back to his friend. “But don’t shut out the good in the world because of a few terrible people. There are good ones out there, too.”

  “Angels to make up for the devils?” Clay asked wryly.

  “Something like that,” Jackson said though he couldn’t help thinking that Hannah was much more interesting—and far sexier—than any angel. “I’m just saying I learned the hard way how much revenge can steal from a life. I wouldn’t want that for you.”

  Clay’s blue eyes softened and for a moment Jackson saw the kid he’d met in basic, the all-American boy who could make everyone laugh, even at the end of a day spent drilling until their muscles had turned to jelly. But then the shadows moved in behind his friend’s eyes again, proving Clay was a long way from making his way out of the darkness.

  “Thank you,” he said though Jackson could tell his words had fallen on deaf ears. “I appreciate the advice and wish you the best. And please tell your wife thank you for me.”

  “For what?”

  Clay smiled. “For getting you back on the straight and narrow before I had to put you in pri
son.”

  CIA then, Jackson thought, wondering why that didn’t make him feel better about the road his friend was on.

  Clay stepped away, lifting a hand. “Goodbye, Jackson, and good luck.”

  “Be careful,” Jackson said, raising his voice slightly to be heard as Clay continued to walk away. “There’s always something left to lose, man.”

  Clay waved in acknowledgment of Jackson’s words, but he didn’t turn around. A few minutes later he had disappeared in the crowd of shoppers swarming the outdoor market across the street. Jackson had a feeling he wouldn’t see the man again.

  Later that night, as he and Hannah sat down to dinner on their lanai overlooking the ocean, he told her the news, downplaying his concerns about what Clay would do to her sister.

  But she was no fool.

  “Well, if Harley had given me any way to get in touch, I’d warn her trouble was coming but…” Hannah lifted her arms helplessly at her sides before plucking her napkin from the table and laying it in her lap. “I’ll just have to send extra good vibes her and Jasper’s way and hope for the best. There’s nothing else I can do.”

  “Your good vibes are pretty powerful,” Jackson said, admiring the way the setting sun caught the red highlights in her hair. “You’re beautiful tonight.”

  “I am not,” she said, smiling even as she rolled her eyes. “I was out in the heat sweating in a coconut field all day. My hair is a wreck.”

  “Your hair is fine and I like you sweaty.”

  She hummed knowingly beneath her breath as she speared a tomato from her plate. “I know you do, but don’t even think about trying anything until I’ve showered.”

  “Is that a hard limit?”

  “Jackson,” she warned, narrowing her eyes.

  “What if I wanted to sniff your sweaty panties while you shower?”

  “Cheese biscuits,” she retorted, plucking another tomato from her plate and tossing it at him across the table.