I reach down and guide him to my slickness and he gladly eases in slowly, gasping at the warmth and comfort. I take a moment to study his expression, his brows knit together, eyes squinting in sheer ecstasy. It is me who makes him feel this way. Me who makes him bear his teeth as he strokes unhurriedly. He’s concentrating, trying to hold on and enjoy this ride. But as I kiss and nibble his hard shoulders, pull his hair, rake my nails up and down his back, he knows he can’t fight much longer. It feels too good. I want him just as afflicted as he makes me. I want his submission just as much as he wants mine. I squeeze my walls around him, hug his hardness and refuse to let him go. Dorian’s eyes widen and his mouth forms a tight ‘O’. A low, guttural groan vibrates from his chest and I know I’ve got him exactly where I want him.
Dorian slows his already measured pace and looks down at me with love and wonder in his eyes. “Little girl, you wield powerful magic,” he whispers. He uttered those same words to me the first time we were together, the first time he gave me so much mind-numbing pleasure.
“I could say the same about you,” I breathe.
Still thrusting slowly, he runs his agile fingers through my tresses before bringing up a lock of hair and inhaling. “I want you to remember us like this,” he says, looking intently in my eyes. He’s searching them, pleading for understanding. For what, I am not sure. “No matter what, I want you to know that my love for you is real. And I will die loving you. Live in this moment with me, Gabriella. Let it carry us through the storm.”
What is he trying to tell me? Before I can fix my lips to ask, his mouth is on mine, swallowing all feelings of anxiety and doubt. His kiss is so urgent and passionate, it completely consumes all questions and I do just as he wishes. I live in the moment with him. Just me and Dorian, my Dark Prince.
He plunges into me deeper and I sigh against his lips. The rise and fall of his hips, stirring my insides in a sensual rhythm ignites the telltale quivers of my approaching orgasm. How? This has to be an illusion too, right? No, absolutely not. The pleasure that Dorian gives me is undeniably real. His love is real.
Dorian intensifies his strokes signaling that he too is on the cusp of release. He pulls his lips away and gazes down at me with a strained yet contented expression, pushing himself deeper still. His eyes are a burning blue inferno of ardent desire and I can’t bear to look away. He’s even more captivating and beautiful in this raw moment.
“Come with me, baby,” he urges, his brow furrowed.
Glints of spectacular blues, reds and greens pop and sizzle overhead, crackling, glittering, raining sparks down upon us. Fireworks. Two remarkable forces of nature colliding. Breath blissfully ragged, limbs tangled and weak. Delightfully shattered as we float back down to Earth from our orgasm-induced high.
This all-consuming, inexplicable pleasure dispels reality yet transcends my most intimate fantasies. Fantasies I didn’t even know inhabited my subconscious until I met him. Dorian. For he is my fantasy. And he is all mine.
***
“Does it hurt?” Dorian asks, his gloriously nude body lying on his side atop of the comforter. We are back in the suite, having had to abandon our paradise.
I shake my head before resting my cheek on top of my crossed forearms, lying on my stomach while Dorian traces the scabbing outline of my tattoo. “No, not really. Just a little sore. Itches more than anything.”
“What I wouldn’t give to take away your discomfort.” For a moment he looks somber, even a bit pained at his inability to heal. I reach out and stroke his cheek, offering my essence to him. Dorian quickly indulges in my scent then gives me a dazzling half-smile. “I really wish you would have let me do it. There would have been no healing process. Plus I don’t like another man’s hands on you. I was tempted to kill him out of sheer jealousy. I’ve never felt so irrational before.”
Dorian jealous? Now that’s a thought! “It was totally innocent and I covered up as best as I could. And what do you mean, ‘let you do it’?”
“Little girl, I am a man of many talents. I believe I have proven that abundantly,” he smirks. I giggle at his racy insinuation and shake my head. “It isn’t difficult. It would be my honor to mark you. It would truly be the best birthday gift I could ever receive.”
“Dorian, it’s your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me?”
My beautiful lover shrugs and leans over to kiss my bare back, his cool lips easing the healing flesh. “After a century or so, you don’t even bother to acknowledge it. But being here with you has already been more than enough, so I can understand if you are reluctant to let me.” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice but I can’t see his face to assess the source.