Dark Light (The Dark Light Series) (23 page)

Dorian looks at me sheepishly. “I didn’t know what you would want.” I smile and put a little of each on my plate. 

The clams and mussels are amazing, though I prefer them in the white wine sauce like we had at the bistro. The shrimp is plump and juicy and I dip it generously in Remoulade sauce. Obviously my appetite has returned.

“So how about you? Any past great love affairs?” I ask after I’ve had my fill. 

Dorian takes a lengthy sip of wine to mull over my question. “Great love affairs? No. I haven’t really had time. Just casual relationships here and there. No-frills, no strings attached arrangements that fit…both our needs.”

I bite the bullet, and swallow my pride with a laborious gulp. “So, I’m assuming that I would be considered one of those arrangements.” Geez, I don’t know how this evening took such a serious turn but I guess it’s best to get this conversation over with. 

“Do you want to be?” Dorian asks smoothly. He refills each of our wine glasses then takes a sip of his own. I follow suit.

“I don’t know. Honestly, I thought that's exactly what I wanted. But like I said, something shifted the day I met you. Believe whatever you want, but it's true. I honestly have never met anyone like you. And I have a feeling that it was meant to happen...that we were destined to cross paths.

“You make me frustrated. Not with you, but with myself. When I’m not with you, I have all these questions, these doubts. But when we’re together, I feel oddly at ease. The doubt, the apprehension disappears. And I can’t even remember why they even inhabited my mind. Does that make sense?” The wine has obviously taken its effect and I can’t seem to shut up. I reach for my glass of water and down half of it.

I really hope he can decipher what I’m trying to say to him, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m trying to convey. Before Dorian can respond to my jumbled rant, our server arrives with our entrees; New York Strip steaks, steamed broccolini, and loaded baked potatoes. 

“Oh my God, Dorian, you’re going to make me fat!” I exclaim with wide eyes.

“I’m sure that’s the least of your worries. Besides, you only live once, right?” he says with a devilish grin. He’s right.
Even if you can live forever. 

The steak melts in my mouth like butter and is accompanied with some kind of peppercorn sauce. The combination is perfection and the meat is cooked just how I like it. It’s as if Dorian already knows me inside and out. No one has ever been so in tuned to my likes and dislikes, especially considering we hardly know each other. 

“I hope you like everything. I wasn’t sure what you’d want. Would you rather have something else?” Dorian seems oddly tentative, and I can’t help but blame my previous rant for the awkwardness. 

“Everything is great, Dorian.” I look at him with question in my eyes. “How about you?”

Dorian gently chews his bottom lip, contemplating my question. He knows I’m not asking him about his food. He looks up at me intensely through his long dark lashes, and I have a feeling he’s trying to distract me. A familiar tingle slowly crawls up my thighs, meeting my heated apex. His tactics are working and I instinctively squeeze my thighs together and shake my head. He will not divert me until he tells me how he feels.

“Seriously, Dorian. I told you how I felt, and as confusing as that may have been to understand, I need to know that we’re on the same page.” I’ve never felt so much like an annoying, nagging girl in my life. This conversation is just as tedious for me as it is for him but I need to know if I'm alone in this. 

Dorian sighs heavily, and I know he’s grown tired with the questioning. He looks as if he’s aged in the past 5 minutes. “Gabriella, you can be whatever you want to be to me. If you want to be with me, be with me. If you want to keep this light and casual, we can do that. If you want me to just keep fucking you senseless every chance I get, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.” His words are so vulgar and provocative. I feel heat flood my cheeks and my already moistened sex. 

“Now I’ve had about enough of this food and this conversation. I want dessert.” Dorian stands and pushes his chair in. He gazes down at me sternly and my heart stops. He’s so cold, so menacing. I know I should be frightened but instead all I can think about is how he had that same look as he took me from behind while choking me just a couple hours earlier. That thought carries a wave of shame but I ignore it.
Dammit
, I like this side of Dorian and I won’t apologize for it.

Dorian extends his arm, inviting me to intertwine mine with his. I slowly stand on shaky legs and do as he wishes, letting him lead me out of the restaurant. Dorian has had the last word, and though I would never take this from any other guy, I willingly let Dorian have full control in this moment. He’s already fully controlled my body, it’s only fitting that my mind follow suit. We walk in silence until we reach his suite and I hold my breath in expectation as the door clicks behind us.

Dorian shrugs out of his pale grey suit jacket and drapes it over the arm of the couch. The recollection of clutching that very same armrest causes my breathing to shallow as the heat between my legs becomes damp and humid. It’s amazing how just a memory can cause such a reaction. Dorian notices the change in my once composed stance and gracefully strolls over to me, closing the distance between us in three easy strides. Without hesitation, he takes my hand and pulls me towards the bedroom. Words still have not passed between us yet communication is seamless. He wants me. And I want him too.

Before I can take in the black and gold room, Dorian bends down to grab the hem of my dress, relieving me of it in one swift movement. I stand before him, stripped and vulnerable, as his baby blues molest my scantily clad frame. He reaches to touch my see-through bra. His touch is so gentle as if I am made of delicate porcelain. His expression is…torn. It’s as if the contact physically hurts him yet he can’t help himself. He relishes the anguish. He’s teetering on the line between pleasure and pain, and I want to nudge him into my pleasure. Yet, part of me yearns for that pain. The notion is maddening, sickening even. How can I expect Dorian to define his feelings for me if I can’t even admit what I really want in all this? Our tryst on the couch has brought it all to the surface for me. 

I just need Dorian to fuck me good enough to make me forget.

As if reading my mind, Dorian covers my mouth with his, letting his hands palm the soft flesh peeking out the back of my ruffled panties. He grips my ass and lifts me high enough for me to wrap my legs around his waist. He’s already begun to harden and I welcome it by squeezing my legs even tighter. Dorian breaks our kiss to look at me. His eyes are earnestly searching for something, seeking understanding in all the confusion that I’ve inspired this evening. I say that I have feelings for him but on the other hand I don't want to care. Just another layer to the indecisive complexity that is me. 

Before I let myself overthink this moment, Dorian carries me over to the bed, gently laying me down. I hurriedly kick off my boots and scoot myself up onto my elbows as I watch him undress before me. One by one, Dorian undoes each of the buttons on his crisp white shirt, locking his eyes onto mine. The anticipation is torture. He reaches for the zipper on his pants but hesitates, instead kneeling at the foot of the bed and taking hold of my hips. He pulls me to the edge of the bed until he’s eye level with my sex. It’s still silent except for the sounds of my labored breathing. I can’t quite see Dorian and the mystery of the unknown is killing me. 

Before I give into my curiosity and push myself onto my elbows, I feel the warm softness of Dorian’s lips on the inside of my thigh. I shudder at the unexpected contact and my back arches a bit. The way my body reacts to his touch instantaneously is uncanny. I’ve never been with someone so in tuned to my every desire. It’s as if our bodies were designed especially for each other.

Dorian leaves a trail of soft kisses on each of my thighs, anticipation and wanting building with each caress. His hands find the waist of my panties and he eases them down easily, letting them drop to the floor. I’m on the verge of begging him to continue down this path of my destruction when Dorian’s tongue finds the wetness between my legs. It teases and twirls as the sounds of my agonized moans fill the silence. I’m surprised at my brazen display, letting Dorian have his way with my body as I twist and writhe under the torment of his tongue. As much I want to pull away and cover myself, this unimaginable pleasure holds me captive. 

Dorian pauses long enough to insert a finger inside me before continuing to lick my softness with deliberate control. He thrusts it in and out, going a bit deeper each time, my cries matching the intensity. He speeds up, adding a second finger and sucking me hungrily. I know that the end is near; it has to be. It is impossible to endure much more. I want to feel him; I want him inside of me. Though the feeling of his tongue is indescribable, I need to be one with him right now. My hands reach out for him but he is out of my grasp. I pull at the comforter in desperation, begging him in my harsh whimpers. He ignores my pleas and continues to thrust and lick determinedly. 

I know what he’s doing. He’s giving me exactly what I need, not what I think I want. He knows I could never fully give myself to him, and he’s making it known that he doesn’t even care. My body is enough. I can give him that entirely and withhold the part of me that guards centuries of secrets, lies, and deceit. My Dark side. 

As if realizing that my thoughts have wandered into unknown territory, Dorian sucks my flesh
hard
. I yelp from the pleasurable sting and come back to him. I can let go with Dorian, and right on cue, I do. I give him all of me in the waves of my severe orgasm as I hoarsely cry out his name. My back arches off the bed and my legs quiver uncontrollably, causing them to collapse awkwardly. My eyes are closed tightly but I can feel Dorian rise and lie next to me on the bed. I’m reluctant to open them and face him so I focus on controlling my ragged breathing. I can only imagine what he’s thinking right now, after seeing me so exposed and vulnerable but I can’t hide from him. It's too late.

“Sorry,” I mumble quietly, opening my eyes after a minute or two. Dorian is propped up on his elbow, watching me intently. He looks amused at my chaotic climax.

“For what?” he smiles.

“For…that. Being so dramatic, I guess.” I gaze into the light blue depths of Dorian’s sparkling eyes. He’s so strikingly gorgeous; it literally causes all intelligent thought to abandon me.

“Don’t be. I like it.” Whoa.

“You do? Why?” 

“You’re uninhibited. You’re raw. You’re always so guarded, Gabriella, it’s hard to get you that vulnerable. It really is beautiful. You should let people see that side of you more often.” Dorian twirls a lock of my hair between his fingers and then brings it to his lips, kissing it gently. “Minus the orgasm, that is,” he chuckles. Dorian’s laughter is infectious, and I join him.

“You think I’m guarded?” I ask.

“Very." He focuses on the task of running his fingers through my hair from root to tip. I've noticed that he plays with it often. Could the elusive Dorian Skotos have a thing for hair?

“So many secrets, little girl,” he mumbles barely above a whisper. His voice sounds so old, almost ancient, and there’s a hint of an accent. It’s so alarming that I can’t find the words to question him about it.

Suddenly, Dorian’s eyes are on my subtly shocked expression. He gives me a quick half smile to mask the mystery that lies in his words. I want to ask him what he means; what does he know of my secrets? I’ve been as open and honest with Dorian as I could be, more so than with any other guy, outside of Jared. How can he make that assessment?

“Turn over,” Dorian commands. I roll over onto my stomach hesitantly and look back at him. “I’m going to massage you. I don’t want your neck to be sore.” Dorian shuffles off of the bed and goes into the bedroom’s adjoining bathroom. He emerges seconds later with a small bottle of scented oil. “I’m going to straddle your back.”

“No,” I say abruptly as Dorian kneels on the bed. He instantly looks perplexed and stands up straight. I can see a storm brewing behind his crystal blues. “Not unless you get undressed,” I add with a sly smile. 

Dorian exhales lightly and nods, visibly unwound. He unzips his slacks and lets them drop to the floor, standing before me in black boxer briefs. I take in the magnificent sight of his chiseled, cut body. His olive complexion glimmers under the dim light flooding from the bathroom vanity. I lick my lips wickedly. “Now the rest.”

Dorian eases down his boxer briefs and then removes his dress socks. My eyes widen with appreciation at his soft yet substantial member hanging between his legs. Slowly he advances to the bed, straddling the backs of my thighs. I can feel him lightly pulsating on my ass and I know our skin to skin contact is causing him to swell. Dorian undoes my bra and eases the straps off of my shoulders. He then picks up the small bottle and squeezes a bit in his hands, rubbing them together before gently grasping my shoulders. I instantly relax under his touch and lay my head flat onto the comforter to allow him to knead and caress. It feels heavenly, and I catch myself before letting a soft moan escape. 

“
Ooooh
, Dorian, your fingers are magical,” I murmur into the comforter. 

Dorian chuckles a bit. “You have no idea,” he says slyly, no doubt a smile on his lips.

“You think I have secrets,” I say as Dorian lets his fingers rub the soreness from my neck and shoulders. It’s not a question.

“Oh, I know you do.”

“I could say the same about you.” Dorian knows more about me than I do about him. Who’s really the one with secrets here?

“I am an open book, Gabriella. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask.” Dorian gently gathers my hair into one thick handful and lays it to one side to allow access to my entire bare back. Such a contrast to the tight grip he had on it just hours ago.

“Ok,” I respond reflectively. “Your relationship with Aurora… how far does it go? Don’t tell me there’s nothing to it because it is obvious that you two share history.”