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The Dark Prince(The Dark Light Series #2)(38)

By:S.L. Jennings


Dorian's hands gently caress my back, my backside then moves back up to knot in my tresses. In turn, I knead and massage the defined cuts of his shoulders, in awe of how hard yet soft his body feels against mine. It literally makes me weak in the knees and I buckle and sway. Dorian cradles me lovingly, easing me down onto the warm sand.

He's hovering over me, his mouth still on mine, still exploring unhurriedly. Dorian's hands softly fondle every surface of my body as if I am a rare, cherished jewel. His lips break away from my mouth and move to the curve of my jaw, leaving warm, feather-light kisses. He moves down to my neck, gently licking and sucking, causing my body to instinctively bow and quiver at the sensation. His large hands palm the mounds of my breasts, caressing each nipple until they ache, longing to be kissed. He appeases me eagerly and I moan in appraisal, grabbing soft handful of his silky black hair. Dorian then licks a trail to my navel, where he also is delightfully attentive. He then commences to kiss every inch of my torso, careful not to miss a spot. His tongue, his lips, the light grazing of his teeth, it's all too much to bear, and my sighs and moans add a new element to the harmony of crashing waves.

Soft kisses and caresses travel down through my thighs, to my knees until I feel Dorian's mouth on my toes, suckling and nibbling gently. Oh God. The feeling is incredible and I gasp in surprise. His teeth graze and nip the soft pads of each digit before his tongue bathes my instep. Then Dorian moves up to my calves, paying special attention to the sensitive space behind my knees. I moan my enjoyment to the moon, shudders overwhelming my body.

"Do you like that, baby?" Dorian finally says, looking up at me. I gaze at him through hooded eyes and bite my bottom lip in response. Dorian smirks before returning his attention to pleasuring my hidden erogenous zones. His tongue travels farther north and he eases his face between my knees, leaving tingling kisses on the insides of my thighs.

"Mmmm, Dorian," I breathe, panting wildly.

Hearing me say his name instantly excites him and he gently bites down on the sensitive flesh of my thigh then sucks. It feels so good; I moan his name again, and he repeats his assault on the other. Then I feel his fingers massaging my swollen clit, completely overwhelming my senses. I cry out and am startled by the tortured sounds of pleasure escaping my lips. The combination of the tiny nips on my inner thighs and his fingers stirring my throbbing heat begins to unravel me and I feel the beginning quivers of climax building within me.

"That's right, baby, let go," Dorian murmurs. Then he places his succulent mouth where his fingers once were and sucks my swell, pushing me over the edge. Violent ripples consume me and I shudder uncontrollably as I release a river of my pleasure. Dorian hungrily laps it up, moaning his own appreciation of my flavor.

Still not entirely in control of my body, Dorian delves deeper into my wet, trembling sex, refusing to end the waves of orgasm that have pulled me under. I grasp the soft granules of sand, furiously trying to regain my faculties but the search is futile. My back bucks and bows off of the ground, knees shaking violently on either side of Dorian's head. I can't take any more. Feeling this good is abnormal, clearly ethereal.

"Please, baby. I can't. I can't, Dorian," I pant. What is he doing to me? There's no way I can come again.

"Yes, you can. And you will." Dorian nibbles my hypersensitive sex and the action brings me to my brink once more. I cry out, convulsing, pulling handfuls of his black soft hair. He is right as always. I could, and I do. Hard.

Finally showing me an ounce of mercy, Dorian climbs on top of me, holding himself up by his elbows as he watches me fight the tremors of orgasm with tightly closed eyes. Once I've salvaged an inkling of self-control, I open my eyes to peer at his beautiful face looking down on me. He's smirking, partly amused at my display, and satisfied with himself for stripping me of all sensibility. I quickly try to plaster on an impassive guise, mentally scolding myself for being so dramatic.

"Oh please, don't stop on account of me. I love seeing you like this. So unrestricted and raw. So beautiful."

Beautiful. I'll never get tired of hearing him say that to me, especially considering how extraordinarily gorgeous and perfect he is. The fact that he even exists and wants me is a mystery in itself. I don't reject the smile creeping onto my face and pull his face down to kiss his succulent lips. The kiss instantly deepens, Dorian grabbing a soft handful of the base of my backside and beginning a slow grind. I feel him pulsing against me and though I've already come twice, I want to feel him. I need to feel him. This is where he belongs. He lives in me.

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.

"Wait. First off, of course, I want to know it's your birthday. We could have celebrated or something! And I would have bought you gifts. Geez, Dorian, now I feel like an ass." I roll over to my side so I can gauge his reaction. "And what do you mean by mark me?"