Dom sat on the edge of the bed, holding my hand.

“Sleep, Bells.”

His voice was soothing to me; it seemed to be caressing me in the dark. Dom’s thumb stroked the skin of the hand he was holding over and over again, our skin tones contrasting even in the night. The moonlight streamed in through the window and illuminated Dom’s face, casting deep ( Read more... )

He was tired. So, so tired. Tired of his life and what it had become, tired of what he had become, and tired of his love for Matthew. He hated that the brunet had so much power over him. With a single word, he could - and had - crush Dominic’s world into dust. He knew his place now: on the floor at Matthew’s feet. He was the slave: the slave to ( Read more... )