The morning zips by and we are surprisingly busy for a Monday. Word must've gotten out about the delicious Greek god observing quietly, causing most of the shoppers to lose their bearings, along with all intelligent thought. I spy Dorian slyly while ringing up an older woman, probably mid to late 50s, who is nearly drooling while fishing out her credit card. I don't mind her ogling eyes; she spent nearly $3000, scoring Carmen a sizable commission.
By noon, Amy, another one of our sales clerks comes on shift and I am thankful for the help. Her reaction is as staggering as Carmen's when she lays eyes on Dorian, and a little grin creeps onto my face. After the lunch rush, I send Carmen on her break, even though we are still pretty busy.
"I'll help," Dorian says after I assure Carmen half a dozen times that we'll be fine for an hour without her.
I look at him with a questioning brow. "Um, you? Have you ever done retail? Or even worked a regular job? Ever?"
A wide, animated grin spreads across his gorgeous face. "Nope. But I think I could handle it. I'm a very hard worker," he breathes seductively. Mmmm, very hard, indeed.
I am painfully aware of Amy's eyes on us, puzzled by our casual exchange. She doesn't know about our relationship and I intend to keep it that way.
"Ok, Mr. Skotos. Let me know if there's anything I can help you with."
I try to put some distance between us, diverting my attention to a new display of edgy, skull-adorned baubles from a local designer. I know he's probably scowling at my back right now, but he doesn't get a chance to stew for too long before he is bum-rushed with a barrage of hopeless female consumers who buy any and everything he touches.
Once Carmen has returned and sales have slowed a bit, Dorian requests to speak to me in private about some paperwork. As soon as we enter the office, he locks the door.
"So what the hell was that about?" he questions, leaning casually against the door.
"Dorian, please don't tell me you're seriously upset. I don't want people to think that I got this job just because we're fucking. That's tacky."
Dorian's face suddenly twists up in a violent sneer, his eyes darkening into a menacing glower, yet his eyes are bright and raging. Oh shit. I've offended him.
"Fucking?" he hisses. "I tell you that I would lay down my life for you and that translates as just fucking?" His body slowly lurches towards me in an inhuman way, as if he has no bones or joints to constrict his twisted movements.
Shit. I really have a way with words. "I didn't mean it like that! I know what we have, but it will be perceived as just me screwing my way up the ladder." Tentatively, I reach my hand towards him, letting my fingertips stroke the base of his jaw. I'm not afraid of the monster inside of him anymore. I know it's a part of who he is and I'll never be able to change that. Not to mention that my own inner demon could be substantially more venomous. "I hate it as much as you do. I've wanted to touch you all day."
Dorian cages the vicious beast, letting the charming, alluring man I know and love resurface. "You have no idea how hard it has been to keep my hands off you." He bites his bottom lip, nestling into my touch before pulling me towards him by the small of my back. "I don't like you hiding what you are to me. I don't give a damn what people think."
"But I do," I say against his hard chest. "I want to be taken seriously. I want to earn their respect."
"Hmmm. Noble. Yet not good enough for me. I want them to know. And because you've made me so angry, I can only think of one way for you to pay for your misdeeds."
My head snaps up to meet his smoldering gaze and I register exactly what he means. Before I know it, I am bent over the desk and my dress is raised over my ass.
"Hey! Dorian, what the hell are you doing?" I whisper fiercely.
"I'm going to fuck you, little girl," he grits, kneading my backside. "Since that's what you think we've been doing all this time."
"I didn't mean it like that! Oh God, Dorian, they'll hear us!" Even with the store's stereo system blaring, there's no way we could be discreet, considering how spirited we both can be. Sex with Dorian is always so dynamic. I wouldn't have it any other way.
I hear the familiar sounds of his belt and zipper, and heat instantly pools and pulses between my legs. Dammit! His lips are on my ear, nibbling gently, his cool breath sending shivers down my spine.
"That's the point. I want them all to know just how good I make you feel. Just how much your body craves this." He nudges his hardness against my ass. "Just how hard you come when I live inside you."
Holy shit! As if my body could betray me any further, I am suddenly dripping wet, panting feverishly as I steady myself against the desk. I feel the hard thickness of him slap the top of my lace-clad ass as he slides his slacks down to his ankles. He quickly relinquishes me of my panties and I hurriedly step out of them.
"Please," I beg in a breathy voice. "I don't think I can be quiet. I want you too bad."
Dorian strokes the searing fire between my legs and I unsuccessfully muffle a moan. "Good. I want to hear you. I want you to scream my fucking name," he says between gritted teeth. "You need to remember who I am. Remember who owns this."
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.