The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series)(57)

Dorian parts my legs wider by inserting his knee between them, still stroking my throbbing swell with precision. He slips a finger inside of me, and I bite my lip to refrain from crying out his praises. He stirs my insides, fingering my walls, feeling them contract and quiver around him.

“Baby, you are so wet for me.” To my dismay, he removes it and I hear the sounds of sucking. “Mmmm, you taste so sweet.” Again, Dorian slides the finger inside of me, repeating the delightful torment, causing me to grind against his single digit. He removes his finger, and places it in front of my face. “Suck,” he demands.

The fuck?

I look at his long, agile finger, glistening with my own nectar. I bite my lip apprehensively before Dorian urges his finger into my mouth. Oh what the hell. I devour it, eagerly sucking it like it is Dorian on my tongue. Tasting my own juices only rouses me more and I begin to rub against him, yearning for him to fill me until I burst.

“Greedy little girl,” Dorian mumbles in my ear as he takes his hand away. He brings it to my front, stirring my clit as he eases me into position. I feel his knees bend behind me as the head of his penis finds my soft slit.

With a penetrating thrust, Dorian is inside me, stretching my pink walls, digging into my core. As always, we moan in unison at the feeling, me relishing in the intense fullness, he stunned by the gloriously snug warmth. Dorian delivers deep, deliberate blow after blow, causing me to resort to biting my bottom lip to muffle my cries. My knees buckle and tremble with every impact yet Dorian steadies me by holding my hips, refusing to show me any mercy or restraint. I can’t contain my moans any longer; I let them spill out in strained, garbled expletives and pleas to a higher power.

“That’s right, baby. Tell me you love it,” Dorian growls, quickening his pace. “Give it to me. Let go.”

With a surprising roar of my own, I buck against him, the desk screeching with each powerful thrust. I want to give it to him. I want him to feel my insides shiver and become slick with my own lustful essence.

I feel his cool breath on my shoulder as a rush of foreign babble falls from his lips. It’s Greek. Freakin’ Greek. Holy hell! Though I can’t understand him, it’s incredibly erotic and only heightens our carnal frenzy. A hand releases my hip and I feel it around the base of my throat, applying more and more pressure with every hard stroke while he continues the foreign chant in my ear. The room is spinning and my eyes roll to the back of my head. My limbs are like jelly yet I still meet him thrust for thrust, encouraging him to take me even harder.

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” I croak through the tightness at my neck, gripping his hips behind me to motivate each thrust. I’m so close I can taste it. And I want it hard, rough and wonderfully brutal.

“Ah! Fuck!” Dorian calls out loudly, releasing my neck and pounding me from behind ruthlessly as he succumbs to his own overwhelming orgasm. Feeling his heat spurt into me takes me over the edge and I unravel instantly, calling his name with reverent praise and adulation.

“Shit,” I mutter as we crumple to the ground, both of us spent and sated from our ear-splitting orgasms. Regrettably, he slips out of me but I’m too weak to protest. “I know they heard us.”

Dorian chuckles at my horrifying humiliation. I weakly turn my head to scowl at him. “It’s not funny, Dorian! Customers probably heard us! Oh God oh God!”

“Relax, Gabriella,” he chortles.

“Relax? How the hell can I relax? Shit, shit, shit! How could I have been so stupid?” I cover my face with my damp arm in shame. I might as well take a bow and accept the award for Slore of the Year.

“Hey,” Dorian coos, gently pushing my arm away and pulling my face towards his. His eyes are filled with warmth and ardor, immediately comforting my troubled ego. “Seriously. I took care of it. The room is spelled to be sound proof. They didn’t hear a thing.”

I look at Dorian in disbelief, unsure if I should be upset or elated. Before I can decide on an appropriate reaction, he’s on his feet, tugging me up onto mine. My legs are still quite shaky balancing on my wedge heeled sandals so I steady myself on the desk which has been scooted at least six inches from its original spot. Dorian bends down to grab my panties, holding them out so I can step in them carefully. He then tucks in his shirt and fastens his pants.

“Now that’s out of the way, I do have some paperwork for you to sign.” He picks up a packet of papers from off the desk and points to a field requiring a signature. “Sign here,” he says handing me a pen.

“What’s this?”