Adetoye_Eniola

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Dominance & Desire

In the cutthroat world of business, Vincent Graves is known for his ruthless precision. Cold, calculating, and always in control, he’s built an empire through sheer dominance. Zane Harrington, on the other hand, is everything Vincent despises—reckless, unpredictable, and far too tempting for his own good.

When a multi-million-dollar inheritance forces them into an uneasy partnership, their long-standing rivalry ignites into something even more dangerous. Every meeting is a battlefield, every conversation a game of power. But beneath the sharp words and heated stares, desire simmers—dark, undeniable, and impossible to ignore.

As past traumas resurface and buried emotions claw their way to the surface, Vincent and Zane are left with a choice: fight until they destroy each other… or surrender to the fire that threatens to consume them both.

Enemies by fate. Bound by power. Seduced by something neither of them is ready to admit.


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DOMINANCE &DESIRE

Volume 3, Chapter 82 – The Morning After

The morning stretched between them like something fragile, something delicate.

Vincent should have moved. Should have untangled himself from the warmth of Zane's arms, should have put space between them before reality came crashing in.

Because for once, he didn't want to run.

Zane was still watching him, half-awake, eyes filled with something Vincent didn't have the courage to name. His fingers were still resting against Vincent's wrist, slow, lazy strokes that sent tiny shocks up his arm.

"You're staring," Zane murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Zane huffed a quiet laugh. "Liar."

Vincent scowled, but it didn't hold any real heat.

Zane only smiled, shifting closer—so close their noses almost brushed. "Morning breath check," he said, breath warm against Vincent's skin.

Vincent rolled his eyes. "You're insufferable."

Vincent wanted to argue. He really did. But the truth sat heavy in his chest, refusing to be ignored.

"…Shut up," he muttered instead.

Zane's laughter was soft, teasing. He stretched, muscles shifting under the thin sheet, and Vincent made the mistake of looking—of noticing the way Zane's shirt had ridden up, the way his collarbone peeked through the loose neckline.

Something tightened in his stomach.

Zane must have noticed, because his smirk turned smug. "See something you like?"

Zane leaned in, brushing his lips over Vincent's jaw—barely a touch, just enough to leave him breathless.

THE MORNING AFTER.