“You don’tlistenwhen I beg,” I point out breathily.
“True, but I still like the sound of your desperation, of the beautiful pleas that leave these gorgeous lips.” He brushes his lips over mine and pinches my clit. My gasp makes him smile. “You’re my favorite toy.”
“And your favorite person?” I ask meekly. He’s quickly becoming my favorite person; Ihaveto know that it’s reciprocated.
Surprise flashes through his eyes, and they quickly warm. “My absolute favorite person. My best good girl. Myonlywoman, now and always.”
Fuck. His words undo me, and the way he works me over for the next hour forces me to submit to him completely. He plays with my breasts. Eats my pussy without letting me come. Lightly fucks my mouth, holding my chin in place. Bathes in my pleas to let me come but doesn’t respond.
By the time he unties my legs and wraps them around his waist, I’m a mindless mess, desperate for release. Ready to do anything he asks, if only he lets me crest.
“Please, please,please,” I chant as he slides his cock into my sopping wet channel. “Dorian, I’mbegging,” I mutter. “Please!”
“Keep begging and I might eventually listen,” he teases, letting out a low grunt as he bottoms out. Even though I’m as wet as I’ve ever been, his cock stretches me out, igniting a delicious burn in my pussy.I yank futilely at my hands, wishing I was untied so I could getmyselfoff.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, tracing a finger over my jaw. “Jerking, struggling, begging. Submitting so fucking prettily. Giving me all the power.” He kisses me. “It’s well-placed, love. You can trust me with yourself. I’ll take care of you. I’ll never betray you.”
Tears spark in my eyes as we stare at each other, and my submission transcends something physical and delves into the deep end of emotional. I trust him with more than just my body; I trust him with my heart. It’ll crush me if he ever breaks it, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
“Come whenever you’re ready,” he says. “I think you’ve suffered enough. Come for me, Mira.”
My back bows so intensely it’s nearly painful. A cry of sheer abandon leaves my lips as he grinds his pelvis into my clit. I cry, I whine, I struggle, and I come sofuckinghard it’s a miracle I don’t break his cock off. He grunts through my release, fucking me harder and faster, wrapping his hand around my neck to keep me in place. His orgasm follows just a few moments after mine, and deep satisfaction sweeps through me as he throws his head back to the ceiling and roars.I’mdoing that to this man. He’s losing his mind because ofme. The power is invigorating.
I plant kisses everywhere I can reach as he unties me, feeling grateful to have him in my life. His abs, his chest… I leave a gentle bite over his heart, just enough to form a hickey. My arms fall limply over my head when he releases them, and I shudder in the aftermath of my orgasm.
Dorian scoops me up and carries me into the en-suite bathroom.
He runs the bath while we shower, and he takes care to wash meverythoroughly, inside and out. My breasts and pussy receive specialattention—he makes me come two more times, until my legs turn to jelly, and I can no longer hold my own weight.
Only then does he take us to the bath, where we laze together in warm water until we come back to ourselves. It’s there, surrounded by the foam and bubbles, feeling raw and vulnerable, that the words I’ve been holding back escape.
“I love you,” I murmur. The haze in my head makes it easy for me to confess, though I’m sure I’ll be embarrassed at myself tomorrow. “I know it’s too soon. We’ve barely known each other for a few weeks. But still, somehow I fell for you between the kidnapping and punishments. You accept me for exactly who I am and don’t expect me to change to suit societal norms. You make me feel… whole. Sane. Perfect, when I know I’m none of those things.” Dorian’s body is completely still behind me; I don’t even think he’s breathing. I pick up his hand and bring it to my lips. “I love you.”
A slow breath shudders out of him. He leans forward to press a kiss to my neck, suckling the skin there.
“It’s a damn good thing that you’ve fallen for me, because I’ve already fallen for you. I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you. Your charming way of blurting out random things, your determination to survive and thrive despite impossible circumstances, your way of brightening everything around you. You make me think that this fucked up world might actually be a good place. I love you sofuckingmuch, Mira, and I am never letting you go.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I’m up along with the sun the next morning. Though Dorian tired me out last night, knowing that I’ll be seeing Clyde today, for the first time in years, makes me nervous. In the past, I would already have dissociated from the situation, but I don’t even feel the longing to do so now. I know I’ll be protected, surrounded by people who will kill for me—most notably Dorian and Asher. I know both men will die for me. As for Seamus and Connor, Ithinkthey’ll be willing to kill for me, but I can’t say for certain.
Dorian’s still sound asleep, his bare chest on display and arms splayed beside his impressive body. He gave me free reign over room service, so I quietly order us breakfast and perch on the windowsill. When the food arrives, I pour myself a cup of coffee and return to my perch, taking a few minutes to scroll through my phone.
Valerie and Cara have both texted me several times—I told them I came down with a bad case of the flu this week, so they’ve been checking on me daily. I don’t want to put them in a shitty position by telling them the truth. If the police catch onto what I’m doing, which Dorian insists they won’t, I don’t want to risk Cara and Valerie incriminating me. They’d never intentionally do so, but Cara has a bitof a loud mouth.
When I’m done with my cup, it’s nearly 8am. I pour myself another cup and fix one for Dorian, taking a seat on the bed and placing both coffees on the bed stand. I run my fingers through his hair, gently coaxing him to wake up.
He blinks up at me sleepily, his eyes clouded as he starts to stir. He stretches his arms above his head with a yawn and sits up, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. I smile as I hand him his cup of coffee.
“Morning,” I greet. “I got room service. Hope that’s okay.”
He sips his coffee and releases a contented hum. The sheets have pooled around his waist, giving me a mouthwatering view of the taut muscles comprising his torso. He really does look like he was sculpted by angels. Avenging angels who gave him endless beauty paired with a dangerous skillset.
“Order whatever you want whenever you want,” Dorian says. “Here, at home, wherever. You have a credit card—limit is 30k a month. Go crazy.”
I shake my head with a quiet laugh. “I don’t spend that much in a year.”
He reaches out to cup the back of my neck, squeezing lightly. “I admire your dedication and determination, but you don’t have to pinch pennies anymore. You don’t have to work if you don’t want to, either.”
