The Dark Prince(The Dark Light Series #2)(31)

Hours later, we emerge from the shop bandaged, sore and starving. We stop at a drive thru to grab some fast food before heading back to Paralia to eat. I am anxious to get home, hopeful that Dorian is finally ready to make amends but am once again disappointed when I discover my empty bedroom. The stinging on my back pales in comparison to the radiating ache in my chest. Being without him is unbearable. The only inkling of hope I have to hold onto is the fact that I'm still alive. He still loves me.

Morgan surfaces from her bedroom wearing a spicy red minidress and heels, her long weave fashioned into a bun atop of her head.

"Hey, I got you some food, but looks like you've got plans," I remark from the carpeted living room floor where we've decided to eat our chicken strips and fries.

"Yeah, I've got a date. Don't wait up," she winks, grabbing her clutch purse and heading out.

"I can stay," Jared says once we are alone.

"No. I'll be fine." He's been texting all day, surely with Aurora, and has already given me so much of his time. There's no telling what plans he had to bail on to come rescue me from myself.

After repeatedly assuring him that I won't go off the deep end and drink myself stupid, Jared leaves to meet up with Aurora. I'm alone once again with my overwhelming guilt and remorse. I head to the cabinet to pour myself a drink and down three shots without blinking, desperately trying to squelch the rising urge to cry. Then I carefully bathe before climbing into bed and praying for the crippling pain that reaches to the depths of my core to subside.

***

I feel the soft, white sand between my toes, little granules glistening like tiny diamonds in the sunlight. The sun feels heavenly, heating my bare back like a warm, feather-light blanket. The sounds of crashing waves combined with the fresh, salty smell of seawater piques my memory. I've been here before. My eyes are closed, heavy with relaxation but I know where I am.

Skiathos.

I'm alone again, but I don't feel lonely. I'm not afraid of this unknown, exotic land. I feel oddly comfortable here. I feel at home. I want to turn over onto my back so I can look up at the clear blue skies, but my body is so heavy and fatigued. And the sand is so soft and warm, I just can't bring myself to disturb this perfect moment.

Suddenly, a cool, tingling sensation runs up and down my spine, causing me to lightly shiver. The contrast of the hot sun coupled with the coldness is delightfully titillating. I moan reflexively as the tingles spread out towards every nerve ending, igniting my carnal senses.

"I love you, little girl," a velvety smooth voice murmurs in my ear. It's a voice I know, a voice I want to hear for the rest of my life.

Dorian.

I force my heavy eyelids to flutter open to find the source of the angelic voice but am greeted with darkness instead. I am no longer on the beach. I am in my bedroom. However, I can still feel the icy tingles kissing my back and I lift my head in response. He's here, tracing the outline of my tattoo with a single cool finger. I can't see the expression on his face, only the twinkling depths of his azure eyes. Emotion instantly floods my chest, erupting into a strained sob.

"Dorian," I choke, feeling hot tears pool in my tired eyes. The response startles him and he quickly kneels to meet my gaze.

"I'm here. Are you hurt?" he questions worriedly.

I don't say a word. I'm afraid that if I do, he will disappear. I simply turn from my stomach onto my side and pull him onto the bed with me. He willingly obliges and we lay face to face, silently relishing the comfort of closeness. I let the cool freshness of his scent envelop me, the soft pads of his fingers wiping away my tears.

Having him here now makes me realize just how broken I was without him. Now I can breathe. Each of his touches strips away the anguish that was strangling me, draining the life right out of me. It's now more apparent than ever that I can't live without him.

"I'm sorry," I finally say, once I am certain that I can contain myself.

I feel Dorian shift as if he's shaking his head. "Don't be. I shouldn't have spoken to you in that manner. Forgive me. And you were right."

"No, I wasn't. I was absolutely wrong to say those things. I hate myself for it." I lift my hand to stroke Dorian's stubble-laden cheek. He nestles into the touch and inhales, breathing my essence. He needs me just as much as I need him. "I never want to fight again. I never want to be without you."

"You won't," he breathes. "I'll never leave you, Gabriella. I never did."

Dorian's fingers drift from my face down the curve of my side, making me remember that I've gone to bed topless to allow my tattoo to heal. My free hand flies up to my breasts reflexively yet Dorian quickly pulls it back down.

"Don't ever hide from me. I love you, every inch of you, inside and out. You never have to shield your body. Or your heart."

Dorian can see right through me, straight to my core. He knows the insecure, scared feelings I harbor deep inside. He knows my darkest secrets, my deepest regrets. He lives in me.

"I'll never forgive myself for what I've done." I whisper. "I hate myself for hurting you."

I feel Dorian smile against my hand. "I've lived through worse, little girl."

"But not from me. I never want to be the source of your pain. I don't want to be that person anymore- always so defensive, expecting for someone to hurt me. I don't want to push you away."

"You won't. You can't. I've been waiting my entire life to love you," he says before placing a soft kiss on the inside of my palm.

My heart warms at his admission, carefully falling back into place, jagged shard by shard. And with that, I close the small distance between us and nestle into his arms, the only place I'll ever want to be.

When we awaken Friday morning, I am still tightly secured in Dorian's arms, chest to chest. We spent the entire night talking, kissing, and feeling the warmth of each other's bodies. I wanted to feel him entirely, wanted him to make love to me but he refused until my back healed a bit. Plus it was nice just being together again, knowing that more than sex binds us. Along with his incredible body, he truly has the most beautiful soul.

"Good morning, little girl," Dorian murmurs in my hair.

"How do you always know when I'm awake?" I giggle against his skin. It always smells so wonderful, so refreshing.

Dorian leaves a kiss on the crown of my head. "That beautiful brain of yours."

Reluctantly, I wriggle out of his hold to trot to the bathroom. I'm dressed in only yellow striped flannel boxer shorts and can't help but blush as Dorian watches me cross the room with desire burning in his smoldering eyes. After relieving my bladder of last night's tequila and brushing my teeth, I reemerge and giddily flop back onto the bed. Dorian inspects my back in the daylight, though I'm certain he could see it perfectly fine in the dark.

"Do you like it?" I ask timidly.

"I do. It suits you." He leans forward and kisses the tender skin around it, his cool lips soothing the soreness. "Very sexy."

"Mmmm," I moan. Even the slightest touch makes my body quiver.

"Don't do that. If you start making those kinds of sounds, I won't be able to stop. I know you're sore. I don't want to hurt you."

I look up at Dorian solemnly. "That pain is nothing in comparison to how I felt these past few days. Not because you hurt me, but because I hurt you. I want it to hurt. I want to suffer for what I've done."

He cocks his head to one side and gives me a crooked smile. "Gabriella, the only pain I felt was the agonizing feeling that I had lost you. Nothing else matters to me. Knowing I could only watch you as you slept, knowing I couldn't touch you, kiss you, be inside you …  It destroyed me. Last night, I couldn't stay away. I was too weak for you. I had to touch you, feel your skin against mine."

I sit up and straddle his lap, pressing my lips against his. Dorian instantly responds, pulling me closer into him by my backside. His skilled tongue delves into my mouth, massaging, tasting, teasing. My bare swollen breasts ache against his chiseled chest, longing to be touched and fondled. I can feel the swell of his erection under his slacks jabbing my sensitive flesh. I want him now, and I don't care if it hurts. Just as my hands fumble to undo his fly, I feel an unwelcomed vibration in his pants pocket. You've got to be kidding me!

I ease back just far enough for Dorian to fish out his cell. He hits the Talk button and gives an exasperated greeting then listens contently. I suddenly remember the picture I took with my own phone and hop off his lap to retrieve it despite his puppy dog faced plea for me to stay.

"Look what I found at the tattoo parlor," I say, handing him the phone once he's done with his call.

Dorian studies the picture for a beat then his unreadable eyes meet mine. "Humph. Humans."

"The lady there told me that some random guys each got them. How would they know? And what are these other names?"

Dorian sighs and rubs his eyes as if he's suddenly grown weary. "There were 8 original Dark families, supposedly the very first clans of the Dark which spawned all other clans. Over time, of course many more were birthed, but it is believed that we are the purest, most powerful of all the Dark. Each family is influential in their own right, the Skotos obviously being the most dominant."

"So these eight families, are they the noble families in Greece?" I sit up on my knees, totally engrossed in the subject, hanging on to Dorian's every word. This is my heritage too. My father was Polemos.