I’m on fire. With the length of his rock hard body pressed against mine, I know he can feel the intensely rapid pace of my heart. His hip is inserted between my legs, my own thigh pinned beneath the impressive makings of his erection. Impulsively, I flex my hips upward to welcome him into my heat.
“Then do it,” I breathe, panting desperately. The dramatic rise and fall of my chest makes my erect nipples that much more noticeable through the thin fabric of my shirt and I’m thankful when Dorian takes notice. He smiles wickedly and licks his delicious lips, and my body begs to feel the dampness of his tongue on my flesh.
“Oh, I fully intend to. But not here. Not now.”
He places a gentle kiss on my right nipple then slowly nuzzles his nose against it, causing it to ache under the restriction of my bra and top. He then moves to my left breast and repeats his delightful torment. An involuntary moan escapes my lips and his hand finds my mouth, as if he’s encouraging me to succumb to my carnal responses. He caresses each lip with the soft tips of his fingers. I want them in my mouth. I want him in my mouth.
“I want to take my time with you. Torture you slowly. I’m going to savor every second of your undoing,” he coos, kissing and sucking his way back up to my mouth.
Oh. My. God! How do I even begin to respond to that? I mutter a mixture of moans and unintelligible babble before Dorian swallows them in a deep, fervent kiss. His soft tongue mingles with mine in a slow, deliberate dance, his lips locking onto mine, fitting so perfectly like two missing pieces of a puzzle. I surrender to his sensual assault and my arms fall back into the grass, unable to grab hold of anything, especially my willpower. I feel him all over me. His hand is knotted in my hair, cradling my head and guiding me to his rhythm. His other cups the backside of my thigh, just right where it meets the base of my ass. He palms its softness and squeezes, kneading it as he lifts me higher into the hard thickness imprisoned in his jeans. His entire body envelopes and consumes me, yet I yearn to be closer still. I’m slowly dying, and only he can put me out of my misery.
Dorian sucks then nibbles my bottom lip just before breaking the kiss all too soon to my dissatisfaction. He reads the disappointment on my face, and appears seemingly amused at my eagerness. “Soon,” he promises before lifting himself off of me and standing. He is unruffled and back to his meticulous, controlled self. I, on the other hand, must look every bit as hot and bothered on the outside as I am on the inside. He extends his hand to help me up and I am on my feet in one swift, effortless movement. I smooth my rumpled clothing while Dorian picks a leaf out of my hair. Somehow we had shimmied right off of the blanket.
I want to ask him when he plans to ease my sexual frustration being that he is the source of my body’s unease, but he extends his hand to me, indicating that he wants me to place mine in his. I do so, and relish the tender gesture, something I’ve always shied away from, especially in public. He smiles sweetly and it’s hard to believe that this is the same man who spoke of slowly torturing me with his sex just minutes ago. The same man who I all but begged to fuck me deaf, dumb and blind in a public park in the middle of the day. And now we’re walking, holding hands, smiling like lunatics, engaging in trivial chitchat, like normal couples do. And I like it, because I like Dorian. Really, really like him. But would Dorian return those feelings if he knew who and what I am? Could anyone? Will I ever be able to have a normal relationship? Lead a normal life?
The corruption of my thoughts stops me up short and Dorian turns to read my troubled gaze. “What?” he asks puzzled.
I shake the inner ramblings from my head and resume strolling, plastering a fake grin on my face to save our lighthearted exchange. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering what you’re going to do about the basket and blanket,” I lie.
Dorian knows I’m withholding my true feelings. His baby blues scan my own eyes, searching for the truth. He frowns for a fraction of a second and gives my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Before I can dwell on his charming gesture, a startling discovery grabs my attention. A light blue, cloudlike haze surrounds Dorian’s entire frame. It’s ethereal, angelic.
“Holy shit! Ok, the sky must be ridiculously blue or I’m seeing things! What the-” The rushed words are out of my mouth before I can even stop myself and from the wide-eyed, shocked expression on Dorian’s face, I know I sound like a total nut-job. Dammit, my eyes are playing tricks on me again!
Dorian quickly drops my hand, no doubt recoiling from my odd outburst, and then the blue puff abruptly dissipates. He gazes at me with a perplexed yet sexy eyebrow and I silently curse myself, Natalia, Alexander, and all things unexplainable and paranormal.