He licks his lips, strokes himself one last time, and then moves his hand away from his cock before bringing his phone back up again. “If I continue doing that,” he tells me, “I’ll end up coming in my damn pants, andthat, Little Swan, can’t happen. Not right now, at least.”
“But I didn’t ask you to stop, did I?”
He chuckles. “No, you didn’t. But if it were up toyou, I’d be staining my pants with my cum, and that’s way out of my style.” He gives me a wink. “Just because I did what you wanted me to, doesn’t mean I’ll also give you complete satisfaction of it. I’m not that generous, sweetheart.”
I work my jaw. “No, but you sure are a piece of shit,” I tell him.
“Uh-uh.” His features darken as he gives me a piercing look. “Watch that mouth, will you? Because I know just how to shut it.”
“What, so you’ll slit my throat for calling you out, then?” I ask.
He grins. “Oh, Little Swan.” He laughs momentarily, and goosebumps prick my skin at the deliciously cold glint that takes over his eyes. “The only reason I’ll ever spill your blood is if you ask me to. And trust me, with how much you’ve already affected me, it won’t take a lot of persuasion from you for me to get a taste of what I so madly crave.”
My throat tightens at his words, and a welcoming chill blankets me at the desire in his voice.
Is it nuts that I’m actually considering what he just said?
Am I crazy for wanting this – for wanting his blade to cut through my skin just so I can feel his mouth against it after?
Maybe; maybe not. What matters most, though, is that the idea itself makes me feel abuzz with something strong, something I’ve never felt before.
“The thought of your lips tainted with my blood – it makes me so fucking wild, Dorran,” I tell him honestly.
He smirks. “Then ask me for it the next time you and I see each other, and I swear I’ll give it to you.”
“Only if I get a taste of you in return,” I add.
That makes him grin again. “Without question,” he says.
I’m so lost in this man that it’s borderline insane. He’s got a hold on me, and I don’t want him to ever let go. And fuck me, I’ve only known him for a day.
But I guess an addiction doesn’t really value time or purpose; it just attacks. It spreads and consumes you, because that’s exactly what it’s made for.
A knock sounds on the door, startling me a little.
I inhale sharply and straighten, then quickly fix my dress.
“Nettie, you alright?” comes Mave’s voice from outside. “Raj told me you’ve been in there for a while. I’m just checking in.”
Shit.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, then curse under my breath. “I’ll be out in two.”
“Gotcha,” he answers.
I look at Dorran and grimace. “I have to go,” I mouth.
He chuckles. “I know,” he mouths back, but it’s more on the snarkier side, which makes me roll my eyes.
I flip him off, and then begrudgingly end the call before sliding my phone into my dress pocket. I turn and face the mirror, fix my hair, and gently clear my throat before pulling open the door and smiling at Mave.
“Hey,” I say to him.
He looks me up and down, and I see that he’s holding two cups of espresso macchiato in his hands.
“Ah, you got my coffee.” I take both cups from him, brush past him, and head for my desk.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.
