Before I can even break into a giggle, I am pinned flat against the far end of the couch, unable to move or even comprehend how I got here. My arms are pinioned above my head and Dorian is hovering over me, his lips fixed into a menacing sneer.
“Make no mistake, little girl,” he mutters just inches from my face. “I am anything but ancient. And you haven’t seen screwing. Not yet.”
“Is that a threat?” I pant, my heaving chest making my hardened nipples that much more noticeable.
“I don’t do threats. That’s another thing that’s not my style.” Dorian licks his lips and I have to fight the urge to lift my mouth to his and suck his tongue into my mouth.
I squirm under his sinful gaze. “A promise?”
Answering my question, Dorian lowers his mouth to mine yet doesn’t touch me. His cool breath kisses my skin, leaving icy tingles in its wake.
“Is that what you want?” he asks. I nod, completely mesmerized by his closeness and the feel of his body against mine. Dorian then grazes my jaw with a single finger, teasing me like only he can. “I want you to say it. Tell me you want me. Tell me you want me to make you feel good. Tell me you want me to fill you, live deep inside you. Tell me, little girl.”
“I want you, Dorian,” I nearly sob, taken aback by his intensity. Not to mention my overwhelming need for him in every way imaginable. “So fucking bad it hurts.”
I swear I hear a growl erupt from his chest as Dorian meets my lips with his. My mouth opens reflexively, eager to take him in, tasting the depth of his hunger for me. It mirrors my own and I moan at the feeling of his tongue exploring the soft wetness of mine. With one hand grasping the junction of my thigh and backside and the other cradling the back of my neck, Dorian devours each muffled whimper and whine. His passion is alarming and I find myself pulling at his soft, tousled hair and the collar of his shirt, wanting more and more.
Everything about this kiss screams desperation and desire. The thought that I could have lost Dorian, that he could have actually turned out to be some revolting monster that didn’t give a damn about me, truly terrified me. Not the Dark or my unknown stalker or even death itself. Losing Dorian is what I feared above anything else. And as we lay here, tongues and limbs wholly intertwined, we still can’t get enough. Even if we survive this, an eternity of loving Dorian would never be enough for me.
Dorian pulls away, touching his forehead to mine. Both of our breaths are ragged and anxious to meet again. “I want you to understand something, little girl,” he breathes. “What I am about to do to you will be unlike anything you have ever experienced. I want to totally consume you in a way that I was unable to before.”
“What are you talking about?” I gasp. Shit, why are we even talking at all?
“Trust me, ok. Just don’t be afraid of me.”
I gently push against Dorian’s chest so I can assess his fiery blue gaze. “Dorian, I could never be afraid of you. Ever. Of course I trust you.”
Dorian makes a pained groan as if the notion of love and acceptance physically hurts him. Then his mouth finds mine as he lifts me up effortlessly. I wrap my legs tightly around his waist, indulging in the strong softness of his skilled tongue. I don’t realize that we are even moving until he lays me on the bed seconds later. Dorian abandons me to stand at the foot of the bed, eyeing my violet satin-clad body writhing with expectation.
“You are so beautiful, Gabriella. I want to love you from the inside out. Will you let me?” he murmurs in his velvety soft voice.
I nod, panting feverishly. God, I’m on fire.
“Undress,” he whispers.
I feel like I am on display, completely exposed for Dorian’s viewing pleasure as I slip the thin spaghetti straps from my shoulders one by one. He’s watching me intently, the top row of his teeth pressed into his bottom lip, the pink of his tongue barely visible. His narrowed eyes take in the sight of my bare flesh as I sit up to let the gown fall to my waist, revealing full, aching breasts. Dorian gasps in response, letting his tongue slide out between his teeth. I take his reaction as a compliment and lift my ass up to slide the flimsy garment down further, kicking it off the bed with my foot. I’m completely naked, vulnerable, and his. All his.
“Mmmm,” Dorian moans. “I need to feel you on my tongue.”
Holy shit! Did he just say that?
Dorian laboriously unfastens his white shirt, locking his eyes on mine. I can feel myself getting wetter and hotter with every button. He’s making a game of this; he knows what he does to me. He can feel it. By the time he lets it slide off his shoulders, my fingers have already found my soaking wet sex. I didn’t even realize I had let my hand slip down between my legs.