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TNT (The Dominator)
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A Tommy and Tia Novella
Written to celebrate the 4th anniversary of The Dominator, this is the panty-melting story of Tommy & Tia’s Ferrano’s wedding and honeymoon. This novella is the cherry on top of the Dominator series.
Get a more detailed look into Tommy & Tia’s wedding, their wedding night (a tub of ice cream, a spreader bar, and threats to rip off the vanilla wedding dress? Yowza!), the honeymoon period, and the first few tumultuous weeks of married life in Costa Rica.
Lots of fighting and lots of making up!
You’ve heard a bit about their wedding and honeymoon in epilogues and in their reflections in books two and three, so there won’t be plot surprises, but now you get to be a fly on the wall and experience EXACTLY what happened.
Although this takes place between books 1 & 2, it’s best experienced after book 3 as there is some overlap and potential spoilers for those who haven’t already read all three books.
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“Spread,” I demanded.
Miles of white fabric kept her hidden from me. And that wouldn’t do, so I shoved the dress up above her waist, exposing tiny white silky panties that were covered in cherries. Fucking cherries.
That thing in my chest flared. That Tia thing.
She smiled shyly. Shyly. Fuck. My baby girl. She wore these for me. She did so fucking much for me.
She looked so fucking beautiful today. On her wedding day.
“Who do you belong to?” I demanded to know, as I fastened her ankles to the spreader bar.
She looked completely submissive in that wedding gown, looking beautiful, eyes shining with love. With trust. My wife. Lying in a bed of rose petals.
“I belong to my husband,” she answered, tears shimmering in her beautiful jade green eyes.
I shut my eyes and let that wash through me.
Never knew getting married would mean so much. Never knew that my perfect other half was out there. All I had to do was claim her. Had no clue how different it’d feel knowing she wasn’t just mine because I said so, she was also mine before the law, God, the world.
Yeah, it’s been a bumpy road, and yeah, I took someone and claimed her as mine, as much as she resisted in the early days.
Naw, it was far from moral, since she probably only opened up to me because I saved her from a fate worse than me in Mexico, but we were here.
I claimed her, and it would be on the highlight reel of my life, that moment in a bathroom in a hotel in Las Vegas when she first declared that she belonged to me. Not only did I claim her, absolutely willing to hold onto her whether she wanted me or not, but she surrendered.
And she isn’t broken.
My Tia is stronger, stronger and wiser, than anyone looking at her might expect a young beautiful girl to be.
And here in paradise, in the sand by a house I rented for us, we made it legal in front of God, and my family.
And now it was time to consummate our marriage.
My thoughts flashed to my father, and not for the first time today. Pop would’ve wanted a full catholic mass. Pop would’ve wanted four hundred plus guests, including his business associates and everyone else who bowed down to him, slapped his back and were ready to suck his dick if he so much as gave the word. He would not have been pleased with the type of wedding I had instead.
Then again, Pop threatened to hurt her by having a bloody wedding dress left outside my bedroom balcony door when I began to defy him. A signature Tom Ferrano warning. Dare found it and got rid of it before Tia saw it that night, but I saw it after the fact. And it was imprinted on my brain, present in my night terrors.
And then my father shattered my loyalty to him by taking her from me, knowing full fucking well what she meant to me.
Pop would not factor here on our wedding night.
I wanted, no needed, this beautiful fucking dress off her.
Rewind – Aruba
We were taking time away after the trying weeks we’d endured. Heck, after the whirlwind that been our relationship so far.
Kidnappings – me twice, not including my initial abduction on high school graduation day. Him once.
Murder – murder of enemies. Murder of family members.
Angst. So much angst.
Tommy decided we’d get a chance to catch our breath before the wedding. But, not much of a chance, because he insisted he was marrying me at the “first fucking opportunity”.
Everything was piling up on him. And of course it was, after all we’d endured. He’d say he was fine, shrug off my concerns, but I could see it in the clench in his jaw, the hardness in his whisky eyes. I could hear it in the mild irritation that always seemed to be in his voice. And I felt it in the way he did not rest easy beside me or under me at night.
He spent a lot of time with his heavy bag. The day before we finished packing up the house was not a good day, and I could feel his frustration with life in the air around him.
I found him in the basement, not punching the bag, instead in a pose that reeked of distress, body glistening with sweat, gloves on his hands, but his arms were wrapped around the bag in an embrace, his face buried in the Everlast logo.
I wanted to go in and put my arms around him, comfort him, but I knew he wouldn’t have wanted me to see him like that, so instead, I backed away and went back upstairs with a heavy heart.
Would a holiday help after all he’d been through lately?
Planning and then attending Tom Sr.’s funeral. Watching Tessa exist, subsist, in the depths of despair over losing James, then her father.