Chapter 12 (Slight R19)
“Mm…”
Elaine trembled, overwhelmed by the strange sensations coursing through her—half from laughter, half from something deeper and more unfamiliar. She gasped softly, her eyes beginning to well with tears, not from pain, but from emotion too complex to name.
Dominic, startled by the sight, halted.
Tears clung to her lashes, her expression fragile and beautiful. His brow furrowed.
“…Aiola.”
The name left his lips not with affection, but with weight. He had always intended to destroy the Aiolas. From the beginning, he had doubted whether he could even bring himself to touch someone who resembled him—his brother, Fernando.
But now he knew. That fear had been completely unfounded.
The more he looked, the more she became her own person. She had sharper eyes, a higher nose, a fuller mouth. Even the way she smiled or cried had nothing to do with Fernando. When she laughed, her green eyes curved like forest leaves dancing in fairy tales. When she cried…
“Elaine… why are you crying?”
“I’m not.”
“Then what’s this?”
He brushed the corner of her eye with his thumb. Whether it was a tear or something else, the dampness on his finger lingered.
“It’s your fault… you kept tickling me…”
Elaine’s embarrassed voice faltered as he ran his hand along her side. She squirmed, letting out a startled breath. Dominic smiled faintly.
“Strange. I wasn’t trying to tickle you.”
“You were! You kept doing weird… things…”
“Most people wouldn’t call that tickling, Elaine,” he replied, his voice soft and low, almost like a teacher correcting a child.
Elaine flushed, caught between confusion and modesty. His gaze, steady and unblinking, made it impossible to look away. And even as her mind raced, his touch moved with unwavering patience.
Then suddenly, Dominic froze.
His hands paused, his breath hitched. He looked down, catching a glimpse of something she had tried to hide.
“Elaine…”
She quickly crossed her arms over herself, hugging her body. She shivered, not from cold, but from the vulnerability of the moment.
Dominic stared.
She was delicate—almost too delicate. Her frame was small, and something about the way she tried to cover herself made his chest tighten. He muttered a curse under his breath, breaking the silence.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
He hadn’t meant to feel this way.
He wanted control—revenge, maybe. But instead, what grew inside him now was something far more dangerous: possessiveness. Desire not just for her body, but for her, fully.
Elaine. Elaine Aiola.
A foolish, gentle girl who clung to him without knowing the storm that raged behind his eyes. A girl who, even in fear, never tried to run.
Mine.
The word echoed inside him before he could stop it.
“Dominic…?”
The atmosphere in the room shifted.
Without hesitation, he gently moved her arms aside and leaned in close again. Elaine’s breath caught in her throat.
“Wait, Dominic, I—”
“Is this… something you don’t want?”
His eyes met hers. They burned, not with anger, but with a yearning so raw it made her stomach twist. Elaine squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.
“No… it’s not that. It’s just… I’m a little… embarrassed.”
A quiet laugh escaped him—dry, warm, restrained.
He hadn’t meant for this moment to turn tender. He hadn’t planned to feel anything at all.
And yet… she was so painfully real. So human. So unlike the fantasy he had created.
“If that’s the case…”
He slowly rose to his feet.
Elaine instinctively scurried to the side, clutching the worn blanket to herself. Dominic didn’t look away. Instead, he reached up and calmly began unbuttoning his shirt.
“…Then I won’t let you be the only one.”
One button at a time, his composed façade slipped away, revealing the man beneath. Elaine watched, wide-eyed, hiding behind her hands like a child peeking through fingers.
She didn’t realize that as she moved, the blanket she had drawn around herself had slipped lower, revealing more of her than she intended.
Dominic tilted his head with a faint smirk.
“What do you think, Elaine?”
Meeting his gaze with her emerald eyes peeking between her fingers, she gave an involuntary hiccup—part surprise, part disbelief.
“…Still embarrassed?”
Elaine didn’t answer. She simply stared—dazed and quiet—at Dominic’s exposed chest.
She had never seen a man like this in real life before. Not a statue in a garden, not a painted ideal from a museum, but a living, breathing man. Even though she had older brothers, they had always remained distant, flawless figures before her. The knights of Aiola, too, had never once appeared in disarray in her presence—by strict command.
Dominic Cheshire was no statue. His presence felt closer, heavier. And yet, she couldn’t look away.
“Still embarrassed?” Dominic teased softly, leaning closer, nudging her further into the corner.
Elaine’s heart pounded in her ears. Her thoughts were hazy, unclear—perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps something else entirely.
Her cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t stop the thought: Why say you’ll show everything, if you’re only half-dressed?
It was a ridiculous question, and the fact that it came to her now only proved how overwhelmed she felt.
The next moment, her body gave way, and she fell gently back onto the bed. When she blinked herself back into awareness, Dominic was already holding her—his arms braced around her, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that deepened slowly.
Then, as if to confirm something unspoken, he whispered, “Am I your first?”
Elaine nodded, firmly this time.
Dominic paused, a rare flicker of awe in his expression. Though he had known, somehow hearing it from her—seeing her honesty—stirred something unexpected in him.
Her mind raced. His voice blurred. She could see his face above her, tense, eyes narrowed with concentration… or something deeper.
“Do you feel it, Elaine?” he whispered. “That you’re… mine?”
The words sent a ripple through her. They were possessive, intense—and oddly comforting. As if she belonged somewhere for the first time.
Then he paused, standing and reaching for something at the bedside.
“Dominic…?”
She sat up slightly, confused, watching him lift a bottle from the nightstand.
He approached, his expression unreadable, though a wry smile lingered on his lips.
“You’d better hold on tight,” he said lightly. “You wouldn’t want to ruin that expensive dress.”
“I… what?”
“Ah, perhaps it’s already soaked,” he added with a teasing smirk. “Clumsy as you are.”
Elaine blinked, stunned. But before she could ask again, the mattress dipped as he returned, the old frame creaking under his weight.
Dominic hovered the bottle, as if to pour—then paused, his hand tightening around it as though he were restraining something inside himself.
He looked down at her again.
And what he saw made him stop cold.
Elaine was biting her lip—trying not to make a sound, trying to endure something. Her green eyes shimmered, but she didn’t cry. She held herself with quiet dignity, even in discomfort.
Something in that touched him. Deeply.
Gently, he set the bottle aside.
Then, wordlessly, he leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, to her cheek, her forehead. Small, light touches that said far more than words could.
Elaine, moved by the tenderness, wrapped her arms around him. The fear in her chest slowly began to dissolve.
In his embrace, her trembling subsided.
He felt it too—that shift. The way she melted into him now, willingly, not with fear, but trust.
“Elaine… my Aiola…”
Her breath hitched at the name. The way he said my—like it wasn’t a claim of ownership, but a confession of longing.
She answered only with a soft sound, curling against him, seeking his warmth.
He pulled her close, brushing back her hair, now damp against her flushed skin.
“You’re alright,” he whispered again. “You’re safe.”
“You always say that…” she murmured.
“Because it’s true.”
He stroked her back, steady, patient.
“Did it… hurt?” he asked, voice low and uncertain.
She nodded a little, her eyes glassy but not distressed.
“But… it was okay. Because it was you.”
Dominic paused. Then smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to the corner of her eye.
“If it only hurt, I’d be a little disappointed,” he teased gently.
Elaine pulled back just far enough to glare up at him with disbelief.
“Shouldn’t you be apologizing right now?”
“I am,” he said, pulling her back into his arms.
“…And thank you, my Aiola.”
The rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek, loud and steady, slowly lulled her.
She laughed softly.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
Wrapped in that steady sound, Elaine finally smiled.
