Stavros shrugs and shakes his head, proceeding to make his way towards the salon. “We are all somewhat ruled by our fears, our irrational feelings. I acted callously. Forgive me. And while I cannot speak for their motives behind abandoning you, I would assume it was for the same ignorant reasons I felt you needed to be destroyed.”
I choose to ignore his apology, somewhat skeptical of his candor. “Do you know who spelled me? Who made me…this way?” I ask weakly.
“I do not.” Stavros looks at me quizzically.
“So there is no way to reverse the curse?”
Before Stavros has the chance to answer, we both glimpse Dorian flying out of the salon’s doors. The look on his face is beyond seething mad and he is tense with anger, his hands rigid and stiff at his sides. The air visibly shimmers around him and I can almost feel the heat of his rage though we are several feet away. He gives his father a murderous stare and an audible growl rumbles from his panting chest. I hurriedly unlink my arm from Stavros’s and stuff my hands in my jacket pockets. Shit, busted. Dorian quickly closes the distance between us in the blink of an eye and forcefully pulls me to his side, away from his father, his vengeful eyes never leaving the smug look on Stavros’s face.
“Temper, temper, my son. We would not want to put a damper on this joyous occasion, now would we? Besides, she could do worse,” he says winking at me. “I bid you farewell, Gabriella. Thank you for spending time with me today.” The Dark King then turns and walks away.
Suddenly I am repulsed at myself for being so naïve. This had to be a setup, just a ploy to get under Dorian’s skin. And my gullible ass played right into the king’s plan.
We stand there for several minutes, gazing at Stavros’s retreating back. Dorian never looks down at me, never utters a word. He still has a tight grip on my arm and I suspect I’ll have a distinct bruise showcasing each fingerprint. Yet, I don’t protest. I deserve much, much worse for being such a complete imbecile and disappointment to Dorian.
Once Stavros is out of our line of vision, Dorian spins me around and tugs me towards Cashmere, not even bothering to look at me or slow down to alleviate my much shorter legs. Once we enter the boutique, he lets go of my arm and grabs my hand, leading me back to the office without so much as a nod in anyone’s direction. His touch is searing- scorching dry ice. I smile uncomfortably at the array of confused faces. Crap. So much for being discreet.
Once we are in the small, contained space of my office, Dorian locks the door and whips me around to face him. His face is still venomous and I brace for his wrath.
Fuck. I’ve really done it this time.
Instead he crushes his mouth to mine, gripping my backside and pulling my body into his. In a swift movement, he spins our bodies around, pressing me against the wall with a thud. Once I’ve registered what is happening, my hands clutch the hardness of his shoulders, feeling the tense tendons flex as he kneads my back and ass. His kiss is urgent and harsh, his strong tongue conquering my mouth and his teeth deliberately nip my lip. I flinch at the momentary sting and moan in Dorian’s mouth.
Before I know it, I am in the air, my tan knee high boots dangling at Dorian’s hips. I lock them around his waist. His hands are under my sweaterdress and with a quick pull, my panties are in shreds on the floor. My fingers tug at Dorian’s soft locks and I don’t hold back; I pull hard. He groans his response, refusing to cease his relentless tongue-lashing.
I am so caught up in the intensity, so consumed by the desperation in his kiss that I don’t even notice that he has unfastened his slacks until I feel the tip of him touch my pinkness. Then with a hard, unforgiving thrust, he is deep inside me and I cry out. He pauses for just a second, relishing in the feel of my tight walls contracting around him. Then he really punishes me. Showing me not an ounce of mercy, Dorian pounds me with fast, brutal strokes. His fingers dig my soft flesh as he holds me up, pushing into me feverishly. I revel in the ache, and it sends me to my glorious end with a cry of pleasurable pain.
“Fuck!” he grunts through clenched teeth, spilling his fury into me. We crumple to the ground, both deliciously spent, our ragged breaths the only sounds filling the small, humid space. Dorian pulls me into his arms, cradling me tenderly. I take the liberty of nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his cool, fresh scent. Even with the sheen on sweat blanketing his skin, he still smells wonderful. I resist the urge to jut my tongue out and lick the saltiness.
“I almost tore this town apart today, little girl,” he says quietly.
“Why?” I murmur against his skin, though I know exactly what riled him.