Dark Light (The Dark Light Series)(90)

“I could say the same about you,” I whisper.

“That’s why I want you around at all times. I like the way you make me feel. I need it.” His words are desperate yet I understand that type of desperation. I feel it too- the magnetic pull to him. It’s so much more than sexual attraction. It is what sustains us.

I am suddenly filled with restless energy, and get the urge to care for Dorian as he has done for me. He deserves that much. “Come on. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

I flip the comforter off of us and shimmy out from under him. Then I leap off the bed and bound to the bathroom. The giant garden tub looks as if Dorian has never used it, opting for the large standing shower instead. The complimentary gift basket still sits by the faucet, filled with an assortment of bath time goodies. After choosing a combination of lavender oil, chamomile scented bath salts and floral scented bubble bath, I begin to fill the tub with hot water. When I turn back around, Dorian is standing in the doorway, stock-still, watching me intently.

I jump in surprise, clutching my chest. “Geez, Dorian, you scared me!”

“Did I?” he smirks. He enjoys seeing me ruffled. He looks like his old self again- magnificently beautiful and composed.

I close the few feet between us and run my hands up his hard chest. “Here, let me.”

I grab the bottom hem of his long sleeve shirt and pull it up. Dorian lifts his arms to aid my efforts. His chest is splendid- hard, defined cuts of muscle under smooth tan skin. The only mark is the tattoo on his side. I lean forward and place a gentle kiss on his chest. He feels so warm under my lips. I continue with a trail from his soft nipples to the ink etched into his flesh. He gasps in surprise and I look up to meet his stunned eyes then give him a sly smile. I let my hands roam the taut mounds of his shoulders and down his arms. I intertwine my fingers with his and search his face for a sign of acceptance. Holding his hand- such a simple gesture that holds so much weight. Dorian lightly squeezes my fingers between his own in response.

Reluctantly, I pull my hands from his to turn the water off before it overflows. I return to Dorian eagerly, reaching for the fly of his jeans. Once they’re undone, they crumple to the ground, exposing his black fitted boxer briefs. I see the large swell in the front of them and caress it with the feather-light tips of my fingernails. I can feel it pulsing subtly with vigor and strength. Dorian’s breathing is shallow and ragged. The gentle touches are arousing him, and when I push down his underwear, his manhood springs to life. Dorian takes the liberty of stepping out of his jeans and removing his socks while I admire his impressive length.

“Like what you see?” Dorian smirks.

I smile and shake my head. “You are so crass, you know that?”

Dorian chuckles and runs his hand through his damp, tousled hair. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.” He reaches for the hem of my shirt and gently yanks it over my head. “My turn,” he teases.

Dorian’s eyes dance with excitement at the sight of my modest white lace bra. It’s such a contrast from the black see-through chemise I donned just last night. Instead of unfastening it, his hands move down to the button of my jeans, which he slides down with ease. I stand before him, clad in my angelic white panties and bra letting Dorian absorb the sight.

He swallows hard. “You look so…pure. And good. So beautiful,” he mutters caressing the soft lace of the bodice.

“Don’t like the racy black number?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I like it. Very much. But I like this too. Reminds me of the good girl I wanted to ruin when I first saw you.” Dorian licks his lips at the memory.

“What makes you think I was a good girl?” I run my hands up and down his bare chest. His hardness rubs against my stomach.

“Well, you aren’t a bad one.” His hands cup the full roundness of my breasts. My nipples throb with delight.

“Can’t I be a little of both?” I say sweetly. I bite my bottom lip, my eyes the color of hot liquid amber.

Dorian’s ice blue eyes meet mine. There’s wonder and anxiety behind them. He blinks it away quickly, breaking eye contact and reaching around to undo the clasp of my bra. Once my breasts are free from their lacey imprisonment, he bends down to bathe them with his tongue. I moan gratefully. He flicks one nipple with the tip of his tongue before moving to the other to do the same. My nerve endings sing with sheer glee.

“If you’re not careful, our water will get cold,” I say breathlessly. Dorian brings his head up reluctantly and then reaches down to relinquish me of my panties. I step out of them and grab his hand, leading him into the grand bathtub.