Dorian finally steps forward, continuing to pleasure me with his magic fingers, though he has yet to touch me. He steps towards me and kneels on the bed, still keeping his eyes on mine, still keeping a safe distance from my panting, tormented frame. He gracefully brings up his other hand, and I nearly choke on my garbled cries. I don’t know if I can take any more. This feeling is already so overwhelmingly good; it’s as if he is bathing me with a million tiny tongues. After already enduring multiple mind-numbing orgasms, I don’t see how I could possibly endure any more stimulation.
Still conducting the symphony of my body with his right hand, Dorian takes the index finger of his left and slowly moves it up and down. I feel it instantly; it’s as if he is raking it against my already raw heat. I can feel him there, yet he isn’t even touching me. Holy shit! I will surely go mad. I am not equipped to even wrap my head around this. I feel myself losing control, fighting against the treacherous waves of my violent climax.
“No,” he rasps, an animalistic sound rumbling from his throat. “I need to be inside you.”
Dorian lets his right hand fall, yet continues to touch and tease me with his left. His eyes are bright, burning blue flames and I can tell that the words are for his benefit as well. If he can feel what I feel than he must also be battling his own orgasm. He bites his bottom lip, concentrating furiously on his measured strokes. I whimper and whine, wanting to grind against him though I know he is not there. He grins sinfully, painfully drawing out every touch and tease.
Finally Dorian closes his eyes, breaking his hold on my body and restoring his gorgeous face. The darkness has fallen away, his conventional human beauty taking its place. I am a panting, whimpering wreck, yet he is so coldly controlled. I gaze at him admiringly as he undoes his slacks. He steps out of them then comes to me, holding his body over mine. I don’t know what to make of this. How could I possibly take anymore? But I want to feel him. I want his body on top of mine. I want to kiss him, taste him, feel his warmth living inside of me.
With a tentative hand, I reach up to stroke his chiseled jaw. He nestles into the contact, letting his eyes close and draws in the scent of my palm. Breathing me. When his eyes reopen, they are bright and sparkling, like the moon’s reflection on dark water. I let my hands roam his shoulders and back, pulling his face down to mine. My tongue tastes his sweet flavor mixed with my own, my hands knotting in his hair.
Dorian lifts his head and stares down at me with cautious, searching eyes. This is not the Dark One who manipulated my body with just a brush of his fingertips. This is not the calculated, controlled killer. This is a man seeking acceptance. He needs to know that I’m okay with all this, okay with his darkness. Okay with him.
I look into his baby blues earnestly. “I love you, Dorian. No matter what you are, I love you.”
Relief and affection wash over him and Dorian lowers himself to reunite our lips. His hands find mine and he conjoins them over my head, our fingers intertwined in their own embrace. I could taste his lips forever, and I want to. I never want to kiss another man ever again. No other man even exists.
Dorian pulls a hand from mine to guide himself into my warm, soft flesh and enters me slowly, our unified gasps echoing throughout the dim bedroom. He fills me, satisfies my craving for him. Each stroke is measured and deliberate. He finds my hands again and joins our palms as he passionately digs deeper into my middle. I moan and sigh as he bathes my neck and shoulders with kisses before moving back to my mouth to consume my most erotic sounds.
For what seems like hours, Dorian makes good on his promise to love me from the inside out. He fills every part of me in ways that I could never fathom in my wildest fantasies. And for the first time since learning what I am and all it entails, bullshit and denial aside, I undoubtedly believe in magic.
Chapter Four
“Are you sure you can’t come?” I whine, poking my lip out like a spoiled brat.
It’s Saturday afternoon, and I begrudgingly have to go home soon to get ready for Morgan’s celebratory barbeque. I love my girl, but I’m not ready to leave Dorian or his arms. There’s so much more I need to know. And if we have any chance at surviving this, knowledge is power.
Dorian chuckles and flicks my lip gently. “No, little girl. I told you. Chris and Donna are not ready to see me.”
“They know there’s nothing they could do to make me stop seeing you. Maybe it’d be good for them to see that you really don’t intend to kill me,” I say with nervous laughter.
Dorian nods. “In time, but not at Morgan’s house. We shouldn’t ruin her day. Besides, we need to be sure there are no other witnesses just in case things become hostile.”