Free A Dominant Fallen (A Dominant Series Book 2) by Lena Black

six-inch heels, but never taking my eyes off him. I gradually make it to the bottom step, where he meets me with an extended hand. I take it, grateful for the help, and he leads me over to the set-up, pulling out my chair.
    I lower into my seat and gaze out at the glittering view beside us as Hunt slides me toward the table.
    “Thank you, Damian. This is lovely.”
    “You’re welcome, angel. You are absolutely remarkable. I’m in awe,” he replies, handing me a flute of champagne, still standing over me. “Excuse me.”
    He turns around and heads into the kitchen, returning with two plates a moment later, which he places on the table near one another. I skim the contents of my plate, ten large prawns on a bed of wild rice with a side of snow peas, which smells oh-so-delicious. It makes my mouth water.
    Hunt sits in the chair adjacent to mine, directly facing the glass wall, as close to me as he can get without me sitting in his lap. He picks up his champagne and holds it out, gazing deep into my eyes. “A toast, to us and the special evening ahead.”
    I clink my glass with his, feeling that anxious sensation again.
    “To us,” I repeat, bringing it to my mouth and taking a slow draw of liquid gold. He sets down his glass and proceeds to cut one of my prawns in half. “Hunt, you don’t have to feed me every meal. I appreciate the gesture, but I would like to feed myself.”
    He stares at me for a moment, noticeably hurt by my statement. “I want to take care of you, nourish you, love you.”
    “You do,” I pause for a second. “Fine, then, I get to feed you, too.”
    He shoots me a big, cheek-spreading grin. “Yes, I would enjoy that.”
    I pick up my fork, stab the fattest half of the prawn, and hold it up to his lips. He parts them slightly, and I slide the tasty, pink morsel in, which he snatches up with his teeth and chews slowly. When he finishes, he slices into the largest crustacean on his plate, holds it up to my mouth, and slips it in. Right on cue, the instant the succulent meat touches my tongue, I moan with delight. His superb cooking never ceases to amaze me. In fact, he cooks almost as well as he fucks.
    “Mmmm,” I moan appreciatively, “you’re truly gifted.”
    “I’m so glad you enjoy,” he replies, reaching for my hand and bringing it to his lips. “I only wish to please you…Do I please you, Gabrielle ?”
    The way he utters those last words, the way he caressed them with his tongue calls to something deep inside me, something primal. I catch a sinister gleam in those pools of emerald, a look I haven’t seen since our last night together, since our session after the party. I spot Hunt radiating from his eyes as they watch me from under those thick, black lashes, framed by his dark, manicured eyebrows, and I shudder.
    I manage to collect myself enough to say, “Yes, Hunt, you do…greatly.”
    “You please me, too, Gabrielle .” There’s something in the way he keeps saying my name that causes me to mentally stand at attention and physically tremble.
    I’m becoming restless again, so I move the conversation in another direction. “Where are we going tonight?”
    He seems to notice what I’m doing and smiles his cocky grin, leaning back into his chair and rolling the stem of the flute between his fingers. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you what I have planned for you, would it?”
    “No,” I reply, sinking back into my chair, “but as you’ve probably noticed by now, I’m not one for surprises.”
    “Why do you think I do it?” His tone is a tad arrogant but still playful.
    “Because you know it tortures me,” I reply with a light-hearted smirk.
    He leans in, lifting the hem of my floor-length skirt and places his hand midway up my thigh, rubbing the inner most part with his thumb. “You look lovely in this gown. Do you like it?”
    “Yes,” I whisper, my voice small from the hypnotized state his thumb is putting me under, “I love it.”
    His hand