Dorran looks at me, smug as he always is. “Open your mouth.”
I do, and he glides his fingers between my lips. I hold onto his wrist and suck, then moan when he pushes them to the back of my throat.
“We taste so good together, don’t we, Little Swan?” he says.
I moan again – loud and unrestrained – and my hips arch forward when he pulls his fingers out of my mouth before bringing them back to my pussy.
“Dor, ohfuck,” I breathe when he starts rubbing my clit. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He grins. “Never.” He kisses me, then bites my bottom lip. “Now come for me, Cignette; show me how well I can make your body sing.”
I fist the pillow as my breathing turns erratic, and so does his pace. I can feel a familiar warmth between my legs, signaling an orgasm. There are beads of sweat running down my temples and the back of my neck, and my nipples have hardened to the point where they hurt.
Dorran is watching me break apart under him, and he’s enjoying every second of it. There’s a madness to him as he continues to bring me to the edge, and I want nothing more than to show him just what he does to me.
“Kiss me,” I tell him. “So hard that I forget where the hell I am right now.”
He chuckles, then crashes his mouth to mine. I open up for him, and he takes all of me. I tug at his bottom lip, then fist the curls at the nape of his neck before molding my lips to his. And then I feel it – that overwhelming rush of a release. My back liftsoff the bed, and goosebumps prick my entire body as Dorran lets me ride his hand while I come. My head feels heavy, and there’s this buzzing in my ears that disorients me in the best way possible.
I’ve never felt so out of control, yet so grounded with anyone before. It’s like he knows exactly what does it for me, and he uses it to show me how well he can play me.
I press my thighs together as I lie back down on the bed. I feel high, metaphorically weightless, and this moment – it’s just so…perfect. Blissful, even.
Dorran tries to part my legs again, but I twist them away from him, and laugh when he grabs me by the waist and hauls me to him.
“Asshole,” I say around a grin.
“One more,” he urges.
I shake my head. “I need to clean up.”
He scowls. “No, you don’t.”
I laugh again. “Yes, I really do.”
He makes to lean in, but I shove at his chest, stopping him.
“I said no,” I tell him with a twist of my lips.
He groans his disapproval at my words, but moves back and slumps onto the mattress regardless.
Bending enough so that I can give him a soft kiss on his jaw, I get off the bed and head into the bathroom that’s next to our bed.
Dorran and I’s contemporary condo is beautifully minimalistic. Warm accented floors, ceilings, and furniture,along with a spacious living room and kitchen make up for every simple comfort the both of us need. I love our house, even more so because Alex and Varsha live next door. Having them this close puts me at ease, because after everything we went through in Riverside, and all those we lost, the four of us are not ready to sacrifice anything more than what we already have.
I can’t believe it’s been almost two years since Jayce and Mave were taken from us. A brutal, unexpected twist of fate – one that has left a permanent gap in all our lives.
I still get nightmares about that day, and there are times when Dorran has to physically shake me out of them because the images I see in them are so vivid that I simply can’t tell the difference between reality and illusion. I’ve had mental scars from a very young age, most of which have faded over time, if not disappeared completely. But the ones my father left behind after killing both Mave and Jayce – those are the ones that’ll never not hurt; the ones that’ll always haunt me, no matter how much they age.
I sigh as I grab the showerhead and use it to clean myself up. Placing it back on its stand, I then walk over to the bathroom counter and turn on the faucet. I wash my hands and splash some cold water on my face, then stare at my reflection in the wide mirror before me. My cheeks are flushed, and my lips are slightly swollen. There’s this spark in my eyes that I hadn’t even known existed before I met Dorran. But ever since him, it’s been a constant, and I keep noticing how much more…lively it makes me look.
I sniff as I pat my hands, and then my face against the plush towel next to the counter, then run my fingers through my shoulder-length pink hair in order to fix them a bit. I’ve been cutting them and maintaining this length for months now. It’s avery small change, sure, but sometimes, it’s things like chopping off your hair or dyeing it a crazy color that gives you a sense of power. And every once in a while when I’m too stressed about content ideas for my fashion vlog, using a productive distraction like this one helps in clearing my head.
I step out of the bathroom, and find Dorran lounging on our bed, still completely naked. He’s got a hand under his head, and is scrolling through something on his phone with the other. My eyes then fall on the iridescent dress that’s hung up in our walk-in closet. It’s the one I’d worn during the charity gala in Riverside – on the night I’d found out that Dorran worked for my parents.
The only reason I’ve kept this dress is because Julian had worked so damn hard on it, and it’s the one thing of his that I have left. Leaving everything behind and moving to Anaheim was the right choice, but I have to admit that I miss walking downLure’slong hallways and interacting with every designer that worked there. But it doesn’t matter now, sinceLuredoes not exist anymore, and neither does my old life.
I head towards the closet, then grab one of Dorran’sWitcherhoodies before putting it on. I glance at the dress again, and can’t help but feel anxious, knowing I’m going to have to wear it tonight. At Dorran’s request, of course.
