Not Your Damn Dom

I’m just waiting for the inevitable.

Three years ago, I broke my submissive’s spirit completely. After she fled, I swore I’d never call myself a Dominant again. No one who screwed up as badly as I did is worthy of that title.

Then Alexandra Ashford signed up for my personal training sessions—smart, confident, yet perfectly willing to follow my every order. The kind of submissive every Dom dreams about, even if she doesn’t know it.

I knew I had to keep my distance.

My intentions were good, but she seduced me anyway. I’d stayed away from women for three years, yet it took her three days to get past my defences. Now I can’t make myself let her go. She’s more than I deserve; everything I want.

But keeping vanilla? That’s gonna be hell.

All I can do is hope she never begs me to tie her up and hurt her, though my Dom side craves it. If we cross that line, I have to leave her. I can’t break another submissive.

I can’t be her damn Dom.