“You really have no idea, do you?” Dorian mutters, shaking his head.
Ok, time to quit with all the serious talk. It’s becoming exhausting and life is too short to worry about trivial things. At least mine is.
“Well, how about you enlighten me, old wise one.”
And with that, I scoop a bit of whipped cream from one of the partially eaten desserts and lean over to place the small dollop on Dorian’s perfect nose. I suck the remaining cream off my finger and burst into a fit of hysterics. Dorian looks bewildered, and for a split second, I think he’s angry. But before I can think too much into it, he scoops me into his arms playfully and swings me over his shoulder, exposing my bare ass.
“Oh you think that’s funny, do you?” he chuckles.
Dorian carries me to the bedroom and flops me down onto the bed. He still has the whipped cream on his nose and begins to rub it all over my face. I am squealing and laughing like a child as he continues to spread the white froth then launches into tickling me.
“Dorian! Ahhh! Stop!” I squeal.
He’s absolutely thrilled making me surrender to him in such an innocent way. I try to fight back and begin to tickle his ribs. He is wildly ticklish and soon, I gain the upper hand. He falls flat on the bed while I straddle him, continuing to playfully torture him with my fingers.
“Ok, ok, ok! I give up! I surrender!” Dorian hoots.
He’s trying unsuccessfully to buck me off of him. I put my hands up, indicating that I acknowledge his white flag, and we both take a moment to catch our breaths.
“I win again,” I say proudly. “Who knew that the elusive, powerful, intimidating Dorian Skotos is ticklish?” I chuckle looking down at his dazzling face.
“What do you mean, ‘You win again’?” Dorian asks with a raised eyebrow. He extends his finger up to my cheek, scooping up a smidgen of whipped cream before putting it in his mouth.
“You know what I mean. You thought I would come crawling back here after your little eye-fuck stunt at Starbucks. Like I said, nice try.”
“I underestimated you. Seems as if you have a few tricks up your sleeve.” Dorian licks his lips in the sexy way that I like. I feel a stir between my legs.
I bite my bottom lip. “Stick around. You might learn something,” I say with bold seduction.
I take it a step farther and begin to grind my naked flesh onto the growing bulge under me. Dorian pulls his knees up, giving me a better feel of every inch of his stiffness. He starts to unbutton the white dress shirt I’m wearing as I continue my slow dance on his lap. Once the shirt is completely unfastened, he pushes it off my shoulders, exposing my sheer chemise.
“Take this shit off,” Dorian mutters between gritted teeth.
He grabs it by the bottom hem and pulls it over my head in a swift movement. Then he yanks at my stockings, indicating that he wants them off as well. I happily oblige. He’s eager; our flirtatious game has aroused him.
I’m naked, and Dorian is eyeing my body enthusiastically. He caresses my skin as if I am a rare gem, admiring each line and curve. His fingertips brush the roundness of my breasts, the dip of my hips, the hollow of my navel. It’s like he’s never touched a woman before, and I feel cherished.
“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I never could have imagined this,” he whispers.
I want to freeze this very moment. I want to be trapped in time just like this. With Dorian. I know that we will never be; we could never have a real future together. But for the time being I can pretend that he is mine, and I am his.
I lean forward and place my wanting lips on his, letting our tongues unite while our hands roam each other’s bodies. Being here with him is the only thing that matters. I’m not what I am. I’m not Light, I’m not Dark. I’m his. And the honest part of me wants to truly be his forever. This goes so far beyond sex and passion. Dorian has penetrated my heart.
As if reading my mind and hearing my secret admission, Dorian gently pulls my face from his, breaking our kiss. His blue eyes are a gleaming pool of crystal and his expression is tormented, yet wistful. But the most shocking discovery is the sheer layer of dense pink fog that surrounds him. I see him. I try to ignore it, not wanting to spoil this moment with my bizarre omissions. Right on cue, Dorian’s lips curl into a sexy half-smile. He’s telling me to let go; feel what I want to feel. I don’t have to be afraid of what my heart wants, no matter the ominous consequences.
“It’s ok,” Dorian whispers. “It’s ok.” He pulls my lips back down to his and we greedily devour each other.
Maybe it’s admitting my true feelings for Dorian to myself or his reassurance, but I have never felt so free and so comfortable in my own skin. As our kiss grows with fervor, my hands move down to his sweatpants to liberate the rest of his beautiful body. He maneuvers himself so I can pull them down without letting his lips leave mine. Slowly, I mount him, letting him fill me inch by glorious inch. We both gasp in unison with amazement. How can something we both know will only amount to pain feel so good?