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That’d been the point, to fuck with him. But somehow, he was fucking with me, his hands on my ass, his mouth too close to my ear. I braced his arms. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
“Clearly.” His knuckle followed a line down the chiffon, basically parting my ass cheeks, and when I gasped, his smile pressed into my neck. “But you like this, don’t you?” He gathered my dress in his hands, squeezing my ass. “How bad do you want my cock?”
Hot lava buzzed beneath my skin, my body shuddering. I didn’t want it at all, but my body was betraying me. I wanted to teach him a lesson for telling me what to do.
Dorian swayed us to invisible music, lulling me, and that reminded me so much of the dance earlier tonight. There had been dozens on that dance floor at any given time, but whenever we were together… like this, it just felt like the two of us.
His strong arms covered my back, holding me close. “Tell me you want me.”
His teeth pinched my ear, and I quivered, his biceps under my arms. “Dorian…”
“Say it, Sloane,” he said, his voice teasing light, and I loved him like this. When we’d met, he’d had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but like my world, something had changed in his too. He’d fought for something and was stronger on the other side because of it. He’d called me strong recently, but I begged to differ, compared to him. Dorian Prinze was the strongest person I knew.
And that was incontestable.
I let his hands touch me in ways they probably shouldn’t. No one was out here, but still, we were in a public place.
“Tell me, Noa,” he rasped, his voice heated, gravelly. “Say you want this. Say you want me.”
He knew I did. I could merely nod, and it took me a second to realize what he was doing. He’d swayed me dangerously close to the edge of the pool, his hands on my waist. His arms extended, and I squealed. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I slapped at him, but all he did was laugh when he picked me up in his arms. I kicked my heels. “I swear to God, Dorian Prinze, if you throw me in this pool—”
He didn’t throw me.
He jumped with me.
Together, he submerged us both, and I flailed, kicking at him, then the bottom of the pool to push myself to the surface. Dorian was right behind me, and I gasped for air above water.
“Are you fucking kidding me!” I growled, but all Dorian did was bark out a laugh. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Actually, I’d say this calls us even.” He splashed water at me, and I came for him, manicured claws first. It’d taken me forever to get dressed tonight, and he was fucking laughing about this.
Dorian was all grins and smiles my way, his tongue out. He only let me get a little bit close before he turned the tables and had me pinned against the pool.
“Dorian,” I warned, my breath hiking. I gripped his shoulders. “What are you doing?”
He was too close, too… beautiful. His dress shirt clung to his brawny frame, the onyx buttons laboring across his firm chest. Wet skin glistened above, muscular, flushed. His hands covered my back, and we sloshed against each other, that same flush across his chiseled cheekbones and full lips. He looked magnificent in the pool’s lights and under the night.
“My eyes are up here, little fighter.” His cocky chuckle followed, and before I knew it, he was holding me close and stepping backward. “Do you trust me?”
“Hell fucking no.” And to show him that, I messed with his hands at my back, which was pointless. If Dorian was good at anything at all, that was the use of his hands. Besides being good at football, he was just… talented.
I forced those other talented things out of my head as it seemed he planned to drown me in this moment, drown us both. He had the two of us out to the center of the pool, and I stilled.
“Dorian—”
“Trust me,” he said, then together, he brought us down under the water again. Expecting it this time, I didn’t flail, but I most certainly didn’t like it.
At least not at first.
Dorian let go of me under the water, but he didn’t release my hand. They stayed locked together, but with a tug, I was right back to him. He spun with me, holding me close, and I felt him laugh under the water.
I saw it too, his joy, and I felt mine. We were two kids doing something stupid in someone’s pool.
And it was fun as hell.
We wrestled for a bit before surfacing, but the dark prince barely let me take two breaths before he had me under the water again. We went together this time, me floating while he swam around me like a fish, and not once did his hand leave mine. We breached the surface again, but this time when he went under, he hooked his arms under mine. Our lips sealed, and his teasing smile melted over my lips, his kisses hungry, his hands in my hair. It was a good thing my lipstick was smudge-proof.
I looped my legs around him.
