Chapter 5 - THE FIRST TOUCH
The next morning, the estate was eerie, tense, and silent.
When Norah walked downstairs for breakfast, she noticed that the number of armed guards had doubled. Men in crisp black suits stood silently at every doorway, their hands resting near their shoulder holsters. Dominic was nowhere to be found.
A housekeeper informed her that Dominic had left early in the morning to "handle a internal matter" and would return by late afternoon. Norah knew exactly what that meant. Marco’s betrayal was being dealt with.
She spent the afternoon walking around the vast, manicured gardens behind the estate, her mind spinning. She had spent her entire life in a small, predictable bubble. Now, she was intertwined with a lethal mafia underworld, standing right at the center of a storm. Yet, despite the obvious danger, she had never felt more alive.
By six in the evening, the heavy front doors of the mansion creaked open.
Norah ran into the grand entryway. Dominic was standing near the bottom of the staircase, removing his heavy black leather coat. His face was pale, his eyes dark with sheer fatigue, and there was a faint, tiny smear of dried blood near the cuff of his white dress shirt.
When he looked up and saw Norah standing at the top of the stairs, his dark eyes instantly softened.
"Norah," he said, his voice raw and raspy.
She walked down the marble steps quickly, stopping right in front of him. Without thinking, she reached out and took his hands into hers. "Are you okay?"
Dominic looked down at their joined hands, a faint, melancholic smile touching his lips. "It is done. Marco is no longer a threat to this family." He squeezed her soft hands gently. "The leak has been plugged. Your evidence was absolute."
"You look exhausted," she whispered, looking up at his handsome, tired face.
"I am," he admitted softly. "I have spent my whole life fighting wars, Norah. Cleaning up mess after mess. It tires the soul." He took a step closer, his gaze dropping to her soft lips. "Come with me to my study. I want to talk to you."
They walked into his private study—a massive, wood-paneled room with a large stone fireplace, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and plush leather sofas. Dominic poured himself a small glass of Scotch, then sat down on the large leather sofa in front of the crackling fire. He patted the seat right beside him.
Norah hesitated for a second, then walked over and sat down beside him. The heat from the fireplace washed over her face, but it was nothing compared to the intense heat radiating from the man beside her.
Dominic took a slow sip of his drink, then set the glass down on the side table. He turned his body toward her, resting his arm along the back of the sofa behind her shoulders.
"You've been here for four days, Norah," he said softly, his dark eyes studying every inch of her face. "Tell me... are you afraid of me?"
Norah looked into his deep, mysterious eyes, searching her own heart for the truth. "At first, I was terrified," she admitted honestly. "I saw what happened to Frank. I knew who you were. But... you haven't hurt me. You've protected me. You paid off my debts and gave me a home."
"I don't just want to give you a home, Norah," Dominic murmured, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper that vibrated through her chest. He reached out, his calloused fingers gently tracing the soft line of her jawline, sliding down to her throat. "I want to give you everything you were denied for twenty-eight years."
Norah’s breath hitched. Her heart began to beat furiously against her ribs. "Dominic..."
"You told me that night in the office that you had never been touched," he continued softly, his dark eyes burning with an intense, raw passion. "That no man had ever taken care of you. Every time I close my eyes, I think about that. It haunts me."
He leaned closer, his lips hovering just a fraction of an inch away from hers. She could feel his warm breath against her skin, smelling the faint scent of expensive Scotch and bergamot.
"I want to touch you, Norah," he confessed, his deep voice thick with undeniable desire. "Not to possess you like a piece of property, but to show you what you mean to me. But I need you to tell me if you want this. I will not push you."
Norah stared at his dark, beautiful lips. Every logical voice in her head was screaming at her to pull back, to stay safe inside her shell. But for ten long years, she had been starving. Starving for affection, for warmth, for someone to see her and hold her.
And the man standing before her wasn't just anyone. He was her protector. Her savior.
"I want this," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I want you to touch me, Dominic."
A dark, intoxicating groan escaped Dominic’s chest. He didn't hesitate. He wrapped his large, warm hand around the back of her neck and pulled her soft lips directly onto his.
The kiss began with a gentle, agonizing reverence. Dominic’s lips were soft, warm, and possessive, pressing against hers with a controlled fire that made Norah’s mind go completely blank. She gasped against his mouth, and Dominic took full advantage, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding inside to taste her sweetness.
A soft, helpless moan escaped Norah’s throat. Electric shocks of pure, raw sensation exploded beneath her skin. She reached out, her hands clutching at the front of his soft cashmere sweater, pulling herself closer to his solid, muscular body.
Dominic pulled her onto his lap, his large hands resting securely around her waist, anchoring her to him. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, moving from her lips to her jawline, down to the sensitive skin of her throat. Norah tilted her head back, her fingers tangling in his thick dark hair, completely surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of his touch.
"You are so beautiful, Norah," Dominic growled softly against her skin, his hands mapping the delicate curves of her body through her clothing. "So soft. So perfect."
He pulled back slightly, staring down at her flushed face, her swollen lips, and her wide, dark eyes filled with desire. He took her small, trembling hand in his and brought it to his chest, placing it right over his heart.
Norah felt it—his heart was hammering against his ribs just as wildly as hers.
"You see?" Dominic whispered, his dark eyes locking onto hers with terrifying sincerity. "You do this to me. You are the only person in this world who has this power over me."
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Norah looked at him, her chest heaving, her soul completely captivated. In that warm, firelit room, held tightly in the arms of the most dangerous man in the city, she realized her life would never belong to spreadsheets again.
She belonged to Dominic Gallow.
