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But the way my body sang for him.
I didn’t need to say a word, my body responding to every lick and flick of his tongue. His laughter, deep and gravelly, only egged it on. He knew exactly what he was doing both to me and for me. He had full control over my body.
But that didn’t mean he owned it.
It didn’t mean he owned me, his fingers pulling through blond strands when he came up. He unstrapped my bra, freeing my breasts. He bit me with a wet mouth, sucking my nipples and coating them with my own juices. His tongue swirled, and I nearly came on his leg.
He forced my sex away.
“Taste me,” he commanded, his tongue flicking my nipple. “I want to feel your mouth on me.”
It wasn’t a request, his fingers curling in my hair. Dorian never asked for anything. He took, and I hated that I wanted to give him exactly what he wanted. I couldn’t stand that I wanted to taste him, that I missed him. I wet my lips, and he grinned.
“Let me feel your throat,” he coached, his fly open and his jeans sagging low on his hips. He shoved them down, his dick tenting his boxers. “Noa…”
I rubbed him, his growl heavy, feral. He probed into my hand, steel in my palm. I pulled him out, and he angled toward my face.
A tight, “Fuck,” fell from his lips as he pushed past my lips. I hadn’t sucked him off in a while. “Fuck, yes, Noa.”
His taste affected me more than I liked, my head bobbing. I moaned, and the moment he stiffened, I thought he’d come down my throat.
He didn’t, angling off me. He kissed me again, pinching my nipples, and I cursed.
“Oh my God,” I panted, his hand pushing between my legs. He gripped my sex, and I grabbed his biceps. “Dorian.”
“Don’t talk. Just scream.” He bit my mouth, hard and my eyes rolled back so far I thought I’d see the inside of my skull.
My hips bucked against his hand, his other one forming around my neck.
He leaned me back while he took the seconds required to sheath himself. He kicked his jeans off, then didn’t ask permission before he angled himself inside.
He cursed with every thrust, stabbing me, and I bit his shoulder, my attempt not to scream and do once again what he said. He had me under his command so well.
It didn’t work in the end, his name falling from my lips. In fact, I screamed so loud when I came I had ringing in my ears.
“You didn’t wait for me,” he said, smiling before taking my lips. He squeezed my neck, fucking me harder and harder until he too was shaking.
Until we both collapsed.
He slowed as he milked my sex and didn’t stop kissing me even after his hips stopped. He just kept saying one word again and again.
“Mine,” he said, biting, tonguing my mouth. “Mine.”
He was disillusioned enough to think it. All of his words obviously that. Dorian Prinze was reminding me of his claim on my body.
And I let him because, in that moment, I was disillusioned enough to believe it too.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dorian
What am I doing?
Sloane fell asleep. We were both good about that shit when we were together. We did stupid shit together.
I peeled myself away from her, sitting on the edge of the bed. I scrubbed my face before gazing back at her.
Who are you?
