Letting my fingers slip beneath the bikini bottoms, I find my scorching hot sex. I stroke it once and brace for his reaction.
Nothing.
I do it again, hoping to rouse him, yet he remains still, quietly observing. I continue to touch and tease myself in an attempt to show him how confident and alluring I can be. My eyes stay on his as I imagine that it is his hand that pleases me. I want him. And I want him to want me.
"I can make you feel this sexy, this free every single day," he says suddenly, his voice seductively smooth. Just the sound of it causes me to quiver uncontrollably until I can't hold it anymore. I want to give him every ounce of my pleasure. I want him to feel the overwhelming throb that consumes me. And I explode, dripping sweet sap around my own fingers.
I jerk awake and sit up in my bed, breathing heavily, the heat between my legs pulsing wildly. I feel the dampness on my panties. Holy shit! What the hell was that? Did I just … ? No, I couldn't have. But the proof is right here, saturated into white lace. Suddenly, the brightness of my bedside lamps flicker on and I nearly scream with fright, shielding my eyes from the intensity.
"Have a nice dream?" a deep voice murmurs solemnly.
Dorian.
He's across the room, sitting on the chaise lounge. He has on a dark charcoal grey suit, crisp white shirt, no tie with the top few buttons undone.
"Dorian," I breathe. I want to tell him to come to me but I need to get to the bathroom. "Hold on, I'll be right back." I race to my private restroom and discard my panties in the hamper. I also take the liberty to gargle to get the icky remnants of tequila out of my mouth. After I have freshened up, I walk back out, sans panties.
Dorian is sitting on my bed, still looking somber. "Is that all you wore to bed?" he asks after I've settled back under the covers.
I look down at my short cotton nightgown. "Pajamas?"
Dorian sighs, obviously annoyed. "Pretty inappropriate considering there are three other men sleeping only feet away from you."
I shrug. "Well, they're all out in the living room, right?" It's really no big deal. I'd much rather them crash here than drink and drive. And it's not like we've never passed out after a night of partying before.
"The brothers are," he replies. Oh. Miguel must've found his way to Morgan's room.
"Well, they are out cold. They had a lot to drink; we all did. It was good for them to get out of that hospital and let loose a bit."
"Yes. Their mother," he nods, looking towards my window, out into the night. "She will be fine. They should be able to see her later this morning."
Huh? "What are you talking about, Dorian." I let my hand reach out and pull his chin towards me. His eyes are bright and dazzling yet he looks so … distraught.
"She will be … fixed. The petrification will be reversed."
My eyes grow wide with glee. "Oh my God, Dorian!" I exclaim, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing tightly. "You did it? You found a way?"
Dorian shakes his head sadly. This is the best news we've had in weeks and he's upset? "Aurora? Did she find something?" I ask. Again Dorian shakes his head, breaking away from my embrace. I frown. "Then how, Dorian? Why don't you seem happy? Who could have reversed it?"
Dorian remains silent for several seconds before turning his head to look at me with cold, desolate eyes. Something about his gaze is disturbing, as if he is dead inside. Every bit of life and love appears to have been drained right out of him.
"My father."
My eyes widen in horror and a scream catches in my throat, causing me to choke on a gasp of air. "Your father? What?" I rasp in disbelief. I must still be drunk. There's no way I could have heard him correctly.
"You never answered my question," Dorian murmurs.
I huff with frustration. "What? What question, Dorian?"
"Did you have a nice dream?"
Sheer horror washes over my face at the remembrance of our link. He can feel what I feel. Shit. So he knows I was aroused. Hell, I was more than aroused. I freaking came in my sleep.
"Yeah … um. It's just been a few days since we were together. And I wanted you so bad. That hasn't happened to me in a while, I swear."
"I don't care about you having a wet dream, Gabriella," he says exasperated. "That shit means nothing to me. I'm more concerned about who you were dreaming about."
I am utterly shocked. He knows I was dreaming about somebody else? No! Crap. How do I explain this one?
"I'm sorry, Dorian. I can't choose who I dream about. It's not like I did that purposely. I don't even know who that was!"
Dorian nods and chews his bottom lip as if he's concentrating. "I do."
"What? Hold up, what's going on? What do you mean?"
Dorian turns his head and lets his ice blue eyes meld into mine. "My father, Gabriella." With a tentative hand, he brushes my cheek and his face cringes in pain. "That was my father."
Suddenly the air becomes so thick I can't breathe. My head is swimming, my insides sloshing around like a whirlpool. "Oh my God, Dorian. Oh my … I'm so sorry. Oh shit," I stammer.
He strokes my hair, caressing me lovingly. "It's ok, little girl. It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong."
My eyes dart around wildly and I am breathless. I feel flush, clammy. I struggle to swallow down the bile rising in my throat. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Oh shit, I think I'm going to be sick."
I turn to try to make it to the toilet but Dorian stops me before I make it off the bed, placing his hand over my stomach. His hands ignite fiery blue momentarily then the intense wave of nausea ceases, and I strangely feel completely coherent.
Holy shit! Could this night get any more bizarre? Hell, am I still freakin' dreaming?
But I can't dwell on Dorian's amazing ability to cure me of the consequences of excessive amounts of tequila. His father is here. And he knows who I am.
"How? Why did he come here? How did he know about Tammy?" I am just so confused, the questions just keep pouring out.
Dorian's expression darkens to one of violent contempt. "Fucking Aurora. I told her not to involve him. I told her I would find a way. Her affections for that boy … " He shakes his head angrily. "She deceived me. She will pay for her misdeeds."
"But Dorian, she did it for Jared. Maybe she really does care for him and got scared? He came to fix Tammy. He came to help. Why?"
It would make more sense if I already didn't know that he was a murderous tyrant. And to think I was dreaming about him? Desiring him? Even in the market earlier, I was drawn to him. I don't get it. Why? How could I be so...attracted to someone like him?
"I don't know. Get under my skin. Insult me. Provoke me. See you. Take your pick," he shrugs. He assesses the confusion and fear etched in my face and eases me back down onto the bed, laying next to me. "Hey, don't worry about it. I won't let him hurt you. You are safe, little girl."
I nuzzle into Dorian's arms, letting my head rest on his firm chest. "How did he know who I was?"
"He knew when I knew, baby," he coos. Right. His curse, his inability to lie.
"But he looks so … young. Too young to be your father at least." Yeah, he's got a few extra years on me, but he and Dorian look more like brothers than father and son.
"One of the benefits of killing for your own personal gain," he remarks.
"Is he going to kill me?" I whisper meekly.
"No. He won't get his hands dirty. Not with something so … high profile. No one wants to be known as the one who slaughters the Dark Light, the savior of the Light Enchanters," he says sardonically.
I lift my head to look at him with question in my eyes. "Huh? Is that what I'm known as?"
Dorian shrugs. "It was just always assumed that that's the way you would go."
"So you thought I'd align with the Light?" Again, Dorian shrugs, looking impassive. "Dorian, if you thought that, then you knew you'd have to kill me."
Dorian shakes his head sternly. "No. I would not have done it. I can't."
"But if you didn't, then they'd kill you! All this time, you were prepared for them to murder you? Were you even going to tell me?" I can't believe it. Dorian felt he was playing a losing game yet he continued to act as if everything would be fine. He made me believe that we could potentially survive this together.
Dorian looks at me, refusing to answer my questions, and I know my suspicions are true. He was willing to die for me. I knew that we would face adversity, and with the annoying messages from the Dark, I figured I could fool them somehow, make them believe I'd side with them. I never imagined that Dorian's death was already in the works.
I bring my head back down to his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe my troubled mind. "What did he do to me? Why did he make me … feel that way?" I whisper after a few silent minutes.
"He got inside your head. He planted the seed; played to your desires, your aspirations. Your insecurities. Made you want him."
"But I don't!" I state fervently. At least I think I don't. Even before the dream, in the supermarket, I was intrigued by him. God, I'm so confused!
"It's okay. Seriously. He is very charming. Women are instantly beguiled by him. He is the epitome of sophistication and class," he says thoughtfully. Dorian's face then transforms into something terrifyingly vile and imperiling. "I fucking hate him."