“Go fuck yourself,highness,” she muttered, but there was no fire behind her words, and they both knew it.
Dorian released her wrists and hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Lookat me.”
She finally opened her eyes, and Dorian stared at her with such intensity, she thought she might catch fire. His eyes were golden and fierce, his mouth an invitation she wanted to accept, again and again and again.
“Option one,” he breathed, “or option two?”
The reminder of their stolen moments in the penthouse made her heart stutter. But tonight, he wasn’t just asking for a forbidden rendezvous in the closet. He was asking her to forget everything she’d witnessed, everything he’d done, everything he was.
He was asking her to submit, completely and without reservation.
And in that moment, despite all the dangers, despite all the warnings clanging in her head, Charley knew that when it came to Dorian Redthorne, there was only one answer.
There wouldalwaysbe only one answer.
“Two,” she whispered. “Fucking two.”
His mouth descended in a hot rush, crushing her lips, owning her. He fisted her dress and tore it in half, pushing it down to her hips as his mouth continued to devour a hot path along her flesh—her neck, her breasts and… oh,fuck… her nipple…
She slid her hands into his hair and lost herself to the delicious pain of his teeth grazing the stiff peak, his tongue soothing the ache. Without breaking his kiss, he gripped her hips and spun her away from the wall, moving them toward the giant bed.
“What’s… what’s happening?” she breathed, every nerve sizzling with heat.
He pulled away from her nipple, then slid his hand between her thighs, dragging his fingers over her soaked underwear.
“Remind me again how you like to be fucked,” he replied, his tone dark with desire. “Soft and slow was it? Wait, no. That’s not right. I believe your exact words were… ‘I like it rough. Don’t youdaredisappoint me.’”
Charley didn’t have time to confirm. In another impossibly fast blur, he pushed her onto the bed, then flipped her onto her stomach, running a hand up her back and fisting her hair. Climbing on top, he licked the back of her neck, then pulled her hair just right.
“Put your arms above your head, Charlotte. Now.”
She did as he asked, and he tore the remaining scraps of the dress from her body, binding her wrists to the bed with a piece of the black satin. She was powerless beneath him, her hands tied, her body pinned by his impossibly strong form, her breath coming in short, wild bursts.
The mattress shifted as Dorian rose from the bed and stripped off his clothes. Charley tried to turn over to watch, but before she could get a good look, he was on her again, one hand tangled in her hair, the other smacking her ass.
“I didnotgive you permission to move.” He smacked her again, then brought his mouth to her flesh, soothing the white-hot sting with soft, luxurious kisses. Electric jolts of pleasure zipped across her skin, making her shiver.
Another slap, another kiss, and Dorian slowly worked the underwear down her hips, tossing them to the floor.
Sliding his fingers inside her, he shifted positions and brought his mouth back up to her ear, his voice so sexy it almost made her come.
“Whose pussy is this?” he demanded, thrusting in and out, deep and perfect.
“Yours. God, it’s yours.”
“Whose?”
“Yours, Dorian.”
“You mean yours,Mr. Redthorne.”
She tried to turn over, but he pushed her back down again, hand wrapped around the back of her neck. “My bed, my rules. You’ll call me Mr. Redthorne tonight. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
He squeezed her neck, making her gasp.
“Yes, Mr. Redthorne,” she tried again, wanting nothing more than to please him.
