Warmth and relaxation flooded my body and when he felt me go a bit slack, Dorian moved on to the other foot. He repeated the pattern. Kissed my ankle, worked my arch with a strong grip. No matter where he touched me or even how he touched me, every time his skin brushed mine the sensation snaked up my body, drifted over me and delved inside. As mysterious and as hard to define as smoke.
I had floated away in my mind to some serene white place where we were together. And that was all that mattered. He was here and I was here and there was quiet and welcome and no worries. It was perfect. It was bliss.
I was locked in that place, feeling his mouth travel the terrains of my body, listening to the ocean wage its nightly attack on the sands, when his mouth finally found what it had sought in its breathtaking, roundabout way.
His lips closed over my nether lips. His tongue parted me and found me swollen and sensitive. He nudged my clit with the tip of his tongue, taking a long time to make a single revolution. Then it was his flattened tongue he dragged over the tender knot of flesh. Without thinking I tested my bonds. I tugged and I moved fluidly, the way hair moves underwater. Drifting but with purpose.
‘Look at me, Clover,’ he said.
It never occurred to me not to obey. I opened my eyes and looked at him there between my legs. His dark-green eyes looking almost brown in the dim light.
I kept my eyes on him as he sucked at me, using his tongue to paint whorls and figures on my most tender skin. He sucked again and I felt that draw, that sensation, in the pit of me. My stomach clenched with sudden pleasure. I was almost there, right on the sweet razor’s edge. I had a fleeting moment to wonder if he’d let me come like this or if his intention was for us to dance around the actual orgasms all night. I didn’t know what I was hoping for, option A or option B.
He sucked hard again before driving the tip of his tongue against me until I surged up hard, feeling the sharp ridge of his teeth on my mons. I came, and a stream of words flew off my lips but I had no idea what they were. Just nonsense words.
He backed off, sat back on his knees and watched me as I tried to catch my breath. His fingers skimmed my legs and goose bumps rose up along the length of my calf. I wiggled my hips and tested my bonds and watched him watching me. My breath slowed.
‘Better?’ he asked.
‘Better because you just made me see God or better because I’m breathing again?’
‘Yes,’ he said and grinned at me. As always that somehow mischievous grin went right to the core of me. Made me want him all the more.
How did you stay away from this man all those days? How will you do it again?
‘Better on both counts,’ I whispered, wishing I could touch his hair. I would brush it out of his eyes where it had gotten just a touch too long. It made him look younger and a little more devilish. I pulled against my bonds as a hint.
‘Oh, no, sweetheart, you’re there for a bit.’ He kissed my belly and dragged his tongue over my hipbone. His hot breath blew on my damp nether lips, heating them.
‘No …’ I said, shaking my head. He wasn’t planning on doing it again, was he?
‘Yes,’ he replied. He slipped his hands under my legs and hiked them up onto his shoulders. His hands nestled under my ass cheeks and he tilted me just so, putting his face between my legs but not licking me. Just looking up at me. His eyes seeming to bore right into the centre of me. That small, still place inside me where the truth lives.
You love him.
I brushed it off, ignored the way my throat grew tight. I focused all my energy and my thought on what he was doing. On the fact that he was poised to make me come again. When he made me come it was like nothing I’d ever experienced. In the past it had been nice. I’d liked it. Now … I craved it. It was too big for words, too pleasurable for description.
His fingers curled against my skin and he gave me a squeeze. ‘Open your legs for me.’ He rested his chin on my mound, the weight and heat making me very aware of how naked I was. How intimate this was.
I started to cry. It mortified me and I wished I could hide my face but my hands were tied. He stayed that way, his fingers swishing back and forth on the tops of my thighs. The touch was soothing and my breath hitched in my throat.
‘What’s wrong, Clover? Shall I untie you?’
I shook my head almost frantically. ‘No, no … please don’t.’
His eyebrows rose but he didn’t speak. He waited for me to explain.
‘I just feel so … vulnerable.’
He nodded, stroking my skin. Then he sat up and straddled me. His fingers smoothed across the swell of my breasts and he toyed briefly with my nipples. He seemed determined to keep his hands in motion. To touch as much of me as he could.
He nodded seriously. ‘I feel that way with you. Vulnerable is OK,’ he said softly. ‘But sad is not. I don’t want you sad. This is intense – this kind of connection. Comes with the territory. At least for me. If you want me to stop, if you want me to untie you, you just need to say so. No magic words. Just say, “Dorian, stop,” and I will.’
‘Don’t stop,’ I said, instead. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. He leaned in and kissed my shoulder, licking gently along its slope and then up my neck. He cupped my face in his hands, smelled my hair, kissed me tenderly. ‘Do you feel connected to me, Clover?’
I nodded, swallowing around more unshed tears.
‘In an almost scary way?’
Another nod and a very small sob. How horrible for this to happen and yet, when I took a deep breath, it felt OK for him to see me this way. I couldn’t imagine why but all I had to go on was instinct, so I had to trust it.
‘Good. Then we’re on the same page, sweetheart.’ He covered me with his body once more, kissing me so long and so hard I could breathe again. His kisses didn’t steal my breath, they brought it back. ‘I feel the same way with you. So connected to you that it unnerves me. Makes my knees feel weak.’
I moved my body up under his. Begging him. Take me, use me, be with me.
He grinned and said, ‘I’m going to fuck you, Clover. I’m going to fuck you until you forget your name. But first I’m going to go down on you again.’
I groaned and wriggled under him. He laughed and pinched my nipples until they stiffened. Then, with a rakish grin, he moved back down between my thighs. ‘Don’t be that way,’ Dorian said. ‘You have one more left in you. I could taste it.’
I did have one more. I thought, as sensitive as I was, that it was false. But he pushed his hands, splayed flat, against my hipbones. He held me down and his lips dragged over my too tender clitoris. I hissed, bucked beneath him, but he held me submissive beneath him. Dorian latched his mouth over my pussy, licking and nudging me softly. Too soft at first. Then perfect. Then I needed more. I moved my body to tell him so. Meeting his open-mouthed kiss. Begging him to get me off again.
‘See. The sensitivity goes away. And all you’re left with is …’ His rigid tongue painted a line of heat along my drenched sex. ‘Wanting.’
His hands travelled up my body slowly. He took his time, feeling every inch of skin while his mouth continued to tease me. When he reached my breasts, he glanced up from between my thighs. I got the full picture then. His dark head and smug smile and flashing green eyes, all there betwixt my legs like some love god. I almost laughed but it was too pleasurable to laugh. He stroked my breasts with a gentle touch at first. Painting swirls on my skin with his fingertips. When my body started to grow rigid with the need to come, he pinched my nipples hard. It was so rough and so sudden it caused me to cry out. The shimmering flickers of pain coursed through me, the sensation mingling with the feel of his wet mouth on my pussy. I came, tossing against my bonds so that my shoulders screamed from the pressure and my wrists ached hollowly.
He drank in every last drop of me, lapping at my responsive flesh. I shook with the force of it, feeling the release of that moment down to my bones. And when it had passed, I felt loose and lazy.
All the way down into the centre of myself.
Dorian kissed a path from hipbone to breast. He sucked my nipple hard enough that it made my throat tickle. Then he kissed my lips again. His big hands pushed my legs wide and he nestled himself between my legs. The hard kiss of his cock against my nether lips shocked me. It was a splinter of pleasure that took my breath.
‘Now I can fuck you.’ His grin was borderline malicious and I thrilled at it.
‘Until I forget my name?’
‘And maybe mine,’ he laughed softly. His cock pressing, pressing, pressing to my entrance so that I opened for him. Bloomed around him like some wild flower.
‘I’ll never forget your name, Dorian,’ I said.
It was the truth.
Chapter Twenty-One
He was in me and I loved it. The way he filled me, tested me with his body. He moved lazily. As if we had all the time in the fucking world. The world to fuck. Whichever.
Because right then, hours before sunrise, we did.
Dorian kissed my shoulders where the muscles were taut from my hands being tied. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asked, licking the place where my muscle bunched.
He moved his trim hips from side to side, his cock dragging along the most tender, secret places inside me. What came out of my mouth was almost a purr. I sighed. Shook my head. ‘Not hurt,’ I said. ‘They kind of … ache … like when you have the flu.’
‘Poor Clover.’ He kissed the muscle again and then dropped small butterfly kisses up my shoulder to my neck. My skin raced with electricity, my nipples steepling against his chest. The friction of him thrusting into me stimulated me even more. I was one big nerve ending receiving pleasure from Dorian Martin.
‘I’m not poor Clover,’ I whispered. I almost choked on the words. Instead of letting myself chicken out and not say them, I wrapped my legs around his waist. It bared my body to him even more and the feel of him deep inside me grew more intense. ‘I’m lucky Clover.’
He buried his face in my neck, slipped his hands beneath my bottom, levered me how he wanted. His thrusts grew more aggressive. More intense. ‘I’m the lucky one, sweetheart. The person with the luck here is me.’
A gripping pleasure filled my womb, my pussy, and I moaned. ‘I’m going to come again. Kiss me, please. Kiss me while it happens.’
He kissed me. Moving his hands to thread them in my hair as his body crushed mine and his rhythm grew more desperate. He paused to rock his hips from side to side and that added friction was the death of my teasing arousal. It pushed me right over the edge and I came, crying out against his lips.
Dorian moved for me, just to let me finish, and then he took his own pleasure with a few driving thrusts. When he came, he kissed me again and I swallowed his sounds of pleasure, wishing they would stay with me for ever.
* * *
The most annoying noise … filling the wonderfully minimal room. It seemed to ricochet off the white, bounce around the driftwood, wreck the peaceful background rush of the ocean. I slapped my hand around to try and locate the culprit but couldn’t. And it simply would not stop.
It did seem to stop briefly, maybe for two or three heartbeats, but then it resumed, almost with a vengeance.
I forced my eyes open and immediately squinted them shut. The sunlight alone was blinding, but in that elegant white interior it was like staring at the sun itself. I bounced across the bed, finally registering the hiss of the shower coming from the bathroom. I also registered the dull ache in my shoulders from being bound in the middle of the night.
I finally found the source of the noise. Dorian’s phone. I tried to push the button marked ‘decline’ but the screen dimmed and went dark. It went silent in my hand and I breathed a sigh of relief. Until it started making the same obnoxious noise again.
‘Jesus fuck!’ I did the only thing I could think of doing. I hit the green phone button to answer the damn thing. ‘Hello?’ I practically growled.
‘Your mother and I have been trying to get a hold of you. This Paris thing is –’ Dead silence. And not just on the other end. On my end as well. My heart hammered hard enough to reverberate in my ears. I felt my pulse in my forehead and temples. It was a woman’s voice. This was a woman calling him. And like a moron I had answered his phone. It had taken her a minute to register my voice and now she said, ‘Dorian?’
‘No … I’m … uh.’ I took a deep breath, wished for a sudden heart attack to claim me right there. Or maybe for the floor to open up and swallow me. ‘He’s not here right now. He’s … Can I take a message?’ I finished weakly.
I heard her smile. Heard it. And even through a phone connection it was a bitchy smile. ‘Yes, please. Tell him Natalie called. That his mother and I are trying to reach him. About Paris. OK, dear?’
Dear?
I fought the urge to hurl the phone across the room. Or possibly open the balcony doors and hurl it down into the white expanse of sand. Or the ocean if I had a throwing arm good enough.
‘Sure,’ I said coldly.
She sounded breezy, this woman. Even when she went on unexpectedly, ‘He’s good in bed, isn’t he.’
It wasn’t a question. I could tell. Not that my tongue would have worked at that moment anyway.
‘He knows a thing or two.’ She laughed softly. It was a malicious sound if I ever heard one. ‘Likes to give his partner great attention. He’s got a good tongue on him. Not that I really need that kind of thing to get me ready.’ Another laugh that made the pit of my stomach feel frozen. ‘Maybe you do, though. All women are different, right?’
I caught the implication. I wasn’t stupid. She fit into his world. I didn’t. I was the woman who was different. I refused to speak and give her the satisfaction. As I sat there, saying nothing, I could hear her waiting. Wondering what reaction she might provoke from me. Even though my hands were shaking, I reminded myself she couldn’t see me. I finally spoke in my strongest voice. ‘I’ll tell him you called.’
‘You do that, dear.’
And she hung up.
I put the phone back on the nightstand and I blinked, over and over and over again, but the tears came anyway. That was why I had not taken his calls. This clash of my life versus his. Girls like me did not get guys like him. Guys like him did not end up with girls like me. This wasn’t a movie of the week. I would not win the hero and beat the odds. I would be another conquest, no matter how much affection he might have for me, and he’d return to the life he was intended to have. He’d return to the life expected of him with the kind of woman expected of him. A woman like her.
The shower cut off and I quickly found my clothes. My mission now was to keep my shit together and get home. To my job and my gran and my normal everyday life. That was all I could focus on. Getting back to familiar territory and moving on.
I passed him in the doorway, gave him a smile.
‘Hey, there, beautiful. Hungry? I thought you could grab a shower and then we could eat down in the diner across the street. They have killer hash browns. The kind you fantasise about after a night’s drinking.’
I smiled. My face hurt when I did it. My heart hurt worse. ‘Yeah, sure. Just let me get dressed and I’ll be ready.’
Dorian studied me. He stroked my cheek and I felt my throat grow tight with emotion. A small sound – a melancholy sound – slipped out.
‘You OK, Clover?’
How to not have to explain?
‘I’m fine. I just have a … stomach-ache. A little one. Probably hunger.’ I’d almost said headache but it sounded too clichéd. Plus, my stomach was closer to my heart, which is what actually hurt.
He kissed my forehead. ‘Maybe a hot shower will help. I know I kept you up last night.’ His eyes sparkled when he said it. And he just looked so damned happy.
I smiled as images of us together, sensations of our union, flooded through me. My face grew hot and I quickly looked away. I forced a laugh. ‘That’s OK. I was a willing participant.’
He wrapped his arms aro
und me and nuzzled my neck. He smelled wonderful. Fresh, clean man. Warm from the shower, damp hair resting against my neck. ‘I’m glad you were a willing participant. I’m glad you came. I was thinking we could –’
‘Oh, hey!’ I cut him off. ‘I forgot to say … someone called. Um, the phone would not stop and I tried to turn it off but –’ I lied here ‘– I accidentally answered. Anyway,’ I rushed on when he looked ready to ask who it was, ‘I don’t know who it was. Some lady. I was half asleep. I figured you could check your incoming call list.’
‘I can.’ His eyes narrowed and his mouth, full and sensuous and kissable, grew thin with concern. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
I managed to slip out of his arms. ‘Fine. I am fine. Just a little tired and ready for that shower.’ I rubbed my stomach. ‘And I think food will help.’
I managed to skitter into the bathroom. As I gathered a towel and found the shampoo I heard him on the phone. Heard his voice go from normal Dorian casual and laidback to an angry tone. A harsh tone. The petty part of me hoped he was giving that attitude to the woman who had so snarkily called me ‘dear’.
The shower brought me solitude. Solitude brought me memories. The memories rolled through me, sweet and spicy images of him fucking me. The way he smelled my skin as he rocked into me. Called me ‘sweetheart’, which I’d always hated but now loved to hear. The way he made sure I came first. The way he … was. The very fact that he was Dorian.
It was not lost on me that I was gone. I had stepped through the looking-glass for him. But the call from Natalie had changed all that. She was the Red Queen. She had woken me from the moments when I let myself have silly schoolgirl fantasies about me and Dorian winding up in a happily-ever-after scenario. There would be no riding off into the sunset here. He was expected to be with a certain kind of woman. And that woman was not me.
He knocked and I called for him to come in. I didn’t poke my head out, though. I stayed in the warm safety of the spray, the dark enclosure of the shower with its thick reinforced-glass door.
Lost in You Page 14