The drive back was silent again—but this time, it wasn't just the tension.
Elijah could feel the burn of Dominic's kiss on his lips, his skin, his very bones. It was like a brand that he couldn't shake off.
But he didn't let it show.
Dominic wasn't going to win this.
Not yet.
The car hummed beneath them as they pulled into the gated driveway of Dominic's mansion, the gates closing behind them with an ominous thud.
Dominic's grip on the wheel was white-knuckled, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Elijah could see the internal battle raging within him—the push and pull.
Dominic parked the car but didn't immediately get out. Instead, he looked at Elijah, those dark eyes intense, as if waiting for something.
Elijah raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Dominic's gaze dropped to his lips, his voice a low growl. "I'm not done with you."
Elijah couldn't help the spark of defiance that lit up inside of him. He leaned forward, meeting Dominic's stare head-on. "Then do something about it."
Dominic's eyes darkened, his breathing a little sharper, but instead of pushing Elijah further, he opened the door and stepped out of the car.
"Get inside," he ordered, his tone clipped and cold.
Elijah stared at him for a moment. He wanted to keep pushing, to keep the game going, but there was something in Dominic's eyes—something that told Elijah this wasn't over.
So, he stepped out of the car, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.
They walked into the mansion, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the large foyer.
As they entered the living room, Vincent—Dominic's right-hand man—was sitting on the couch, his eyes glancing up from his phone. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Elijah.
"Elijah," Vincent greeted him, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it.
"Vincent," Elijah said, his voice guarded. He could never quite get a read on Dominic's right-hand man, but something about the way he looked at him made him uneasy.
Dominic shot Vincent a warning glance, and Vincent simply smiled, leaning back on the couch.
"Do you need something?" Dominic asked, his tone a little sharper than before.
Vincent shrugged. "No, just wondering if you were going to be entertaining Elijah properly tonight." He gave a sly grin, his eyes flicking from Dominic to Elijah.
Elijah caught the underlying tension in the air between them. Something was brewing.
Dominic's jaw tightened, and he didn't respond. Instead, he turned to Elijah, his voice colder than before. "Come with me."
Elijah's eyes narrowed, but he didn't protest.
Dominic led him up the stairs, the silence between them thickening. The mansion felt colder now—empty, like a cage closing in on him.
When they reached Dominic's private study, he opened the door and motioned for Elijah to enter. Elijah hesitated, but the sharp, commanding look in Dominic's eyes made him step inside.
Dominic shut the door behind him and locked it.
"Sit." Dominic gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.
Elijah sat down, but his posture was relaxed, almost nonchalant—he wasn't going to give Dominic the satisfaction of seeing him rattle.
Dominic leaned against the desk, his eyes never leaving Elijah. There was something in his gaze that sent a shiver down Elijah's spine.
"I don't like being challenged, Elijah," Dominic said softly, the low rumble of his voice making the room feel smaller.
Elijah smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And I don't like being told what to do."
Dominic's lips twitched, a faint smile almost breaking through his intense expression.
"Then we're both in trouble," he murmured, almost to himself.
The air between them shifted, the tension crackling like electricity. Elijah could feel it, the draw to Dominic, the undeniable pull that was making him second-guess everything.
Dominic pushed off from the desk and walked toward him, his presence looming. He stopped right in front of Elijah, looking down at him.
For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade.
"Elijah," Dominic murmured, soft yet possessive, "I told you not to test me."
Elijah looked up, his heart racing. "And I told you I don't follow orders."
Dominic's gaze flickered. His fingers brushed the side of Elijah's face, a caress that was almost too gentle for someone like him. It was a sharp contrast to his usual roughness.
"Then why do you keep doing this?" Dominic's voice was almost desperate, aching.
Elijah stared at him, his breath shallow. He didn't know how to respond. The feelings swirling inside him—the attraction, the anger, the fear—were all too much.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached up and grabbed Dominic's wrist, pulling it toward his lips, brushing a kiss against his palm.
It was a simple gesture—but it was enough to break Dominic's resolve.
Dominic's breath caught in his throat, and before Elijah could pull away, Dominic yanked him forward, crashing their lips together.
It was fierce, intense—Dominic's desperation palpable, his hunger taking over. Elijah didn't fight it. For the first time, he let himself give in, the kiss melting all his reservations away.
But just as quickly, Dominic broke it off, stepping back, his chest heaving.
"This game," he said, voice hoarse, "is far from over, Elijah."
And Elijah knew, in that moment, that he was already in too deep.
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