Chapter 9 #2
My lips twitched as I thought about Dorian in college, most likely with my brother, not sleeping.
“I’ve only had an edible once, and while it was fun to be relaxed, they mix with my meds now.” I hadn’t meant to say that, so when Dorian looked at me, worry in his gaze, I swallowed hard.
“I got sick when I was younger. Do you remember that?”
Anger clouded his features, and he leaned forward and paused the movie.
I looked over at Elizabeth Bennett as she stared into the distance, one of the most beautiful shots in cinematic history, and swallowed hard.
Because I didn’t think I’d be able to ever visit that place. That I’d be able to make that hike.
“I remember your brother said that you got sick when you were younger, and then you came to live with him. But he didn’t give me the details. Only that he was fucking scared.”
I swallowed hard and began to play with the seam of jeans on his outer thigh. He didn’t wince, and I was grateful for that. But I knew this was the leg that always gave him trouble. The knee that had required surgery after the plane crash.
“I got pneumonia because my grandparents were abusive assholes that didn’t deserve to have a child, and it was no wonder that my mother had left them when she did.”
I explained the story in detail, how once my grandparents had found me on the porch the next morning, and finally let me inside, I’d spiked a fever.
But they didn’t give me medicine, didn’t take me to the hospital.
Instead, they waited it out because they knew better.
They didn’t trust modern medicines and vaccines.
My parents had given me enough vaccines as a child though, so I had a better immune system than my grandparents would’ve let me have to begin with.
“I ended up in the hospital when I stopped breathing, and my grandmother finally got worried that she couldn’t handle it on her own.”
“If your grandparents weren’t already dead, I’d kill them myself,” he snapped.
I squeezed his hand and then leaned farther into him so I wouldn’t have to meet his gaze.
“I nearly died. They intubated me, and I don’t remember much of it.
All I do know is that by the time I recovered, I had reduced lung function.
To the point that I will always have reduced lung function.
At one point, they were worried that it would turn into COPD, but thankfully my meds and genetics helped me heal.
I’m never going to be able to run a marathon or climb a mountain beyond where we already live.
Gymnastics are so out of my hands at this point, even though I’m not quite as flexible as I used to be. ”
I tried to make a joke of it, but he didn’t laugh.
“You’re really okay?” he asked as he shifted me so I was sitting on his lap, straddling him.
I froze, meeting his gaze. I wasn’t quite sure why he had done it. And damn it, I wanted that to. I slid my hands through his hair, playing with the ends of it as he ran his palms up and down my back.
“I’m fine. I promise. Sometimes I get a little dizzy, and I have to pause. But I do try to take care of myself. I promise.”
He scowled, and I rubbed his temple, making the wrinkle go away.
“I promise I’m taking care of myself. Can you say the same?” I asked, honestly worried.
Instead of answering, he sighed, squeezing my hips.
“Dorian.”
“I do my physical therapy. And frankly, I know how lucky I am. I’m always going to have some scars on my side, and my knee will sometimes let me know when the weather’s about to change, but one day, I’m not going to walk with a limp.
And one day I’m not going to twinge every time I sneeze because I stretched the skin at my side. It’s not perfect, but I’m okay.”
“Good. Then so am I.”
Because the thought of Dorian not being okay would break me. It scared me how much I wanted him, how much this feeling of being close to him felt right. I hadn’t thought this moment would be possible, and yet here I was, in Dorian’s arms.
And we weren’t talking about it.
Instead, his fingers slowly played with the edge of my jeans, and I sunk my teeth into my lip.
“I would love to know what you’re thinking right now, Wellesley,” he whispered.
“I really want you to kiss me again. Is that okay?” I asked, my voice soft.
“If I kiss you, Wellesley, I’m not going to stop.
This isn’t going to be one of your high school or college boyfriends that are so sweet and caring.
Not the ones that you can walk all over because you are so powerful.
I’m demanding. I’m an asshole. I’m going to take care of you, Wellesley.
But if I kiss you again, it’s going to be because I want you.
Because I want to fuck you. I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock as you come and call me yours.
I want to know exactly what color your nipples are, I want to know what you taste like.
And I know that my wanting this is so far beyond wrong that it makes no sense.
But in this moment, I don’t fucking care.
I can feel your tight little cunt all hot over my cock right now and we’re both wearing jeans.
But I can stop. I can walk away if I have to.
But I don’t want to, Wellesley. There’s just something about you. It scares the fuck out of me.”
I had never heard him be so honest, so open.
And I could imagine every single thing he wanted to do with me.
Because it was only imagining. I had never been with a man before.
Never let a man touch me like that. I hadn’t had the need, the time, or desire.
Because some part of me, ever since I was old enough to know, had known I wanted it to be Dorian—even though the idea was so far-fetched it would never happen.
And yet here I was, in his arms.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
“Damn it, Wellesley.” And before I could say anything else, his mouth was on mine, and I gasped. He slid one hand up to my hair, tangling it in his hands as he tugged hard. The slight pain shocked me, but I arched into him, my breasts pressing to his chest.
“That’s my baby girl. You like that, don’t you?”
“I don’t, maybe, Dorian.”
“I already have you flustered. I’m barely even touching you.”
He tilted my head so he could kiss me harder, and I went silent, not wanting to break this moment. I was so afraid that at some point he would realize what he was doing and walk away.
This was my brother’s best friend. And yet, maybe in this moment, I was just Wellesley. I wasn’t Harper in this moment.
Lost, I let Dorian take over. I had no idea what I was doing, and I didn’t want to make a mistake, but then again, I just wanted to touch him.
I let my hands slide over his shoulders, down between us over his chest. His hand tightened on my hip, and then he let out a moan that went straight to my core.
“I am going to take you to the bedroom, because I know my knee’s not going to last long if I take you on this couch.”
The vulnerability in that statement nearly broke me, but instead I just kissed him softly on the lips and nodded. I scrambled off him and reached out to help him up from the couch. In answer, he rose to his feet and picked me up against his chest.
“Dorian!”
“I can carry you. I just know that if I bend you over the couch and fuck you hard from behind, I might hurt my knee. And I want to last a long time. Call me greedy.”
I let out of squeal as he tossed me into the air and caught me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow, I was laughing in this moment, this moment that felt like a dream.
Because this sure as hell wasn’t real.
Suddenly we were in his bedroom, and he laid me gently on the bed.
Breath coming in pants, I watched as he stripped his shirt over his head with one arm and I couldn’t help but study the man in front of me.
All hard planes and muscle, the tattoos running down one side of his body. The other side, the ravaged scars were no longer red and puffy, instead they looked to be healed, only not quite settled.
He didn’t say a word, just studied my face. I sat up and reached for him. When he didn’t move back, I swallowed hard and gently brushed my fingers along the burns.
“Will you tell me if I hurt you?” I asked, keeping my voice steady. He slid his thumb over my lips and nodded.
“As long as you do the same.” And then he slid his thumb against my mouth.
I opened for him and sucked. I had given a blowjob before, though I hadn’t been very good at it.
But with the way he slid his thumb in and out of my mouth, I couldn’t help but wonder what I would do if I was on my knees in front of him.
Eager, I tried to move so I could do so, but he shook his head before reaching down and tugging on the bottom of my shirt.
“Arms up.”
“You’re very bossy.”
“And you’re just realizing that now?”
He leaned down and took my mouth before he tossed my shirt to the side. For some reason, embarrassment slid over me, and I was suddenly shy.
Dorian seemed to understand, and he leaned forward and took my lips. Then his hand was around my back again, undoing the clasp.
My breasts fell heavy, and I swallowed hard, wanting to cover myself. But instead I just sat there at the edge of the bed as he tossed my bra softly to the side and studied me.
“Such a pale pink. I wouldn’t have guessed that. And I’ve been thinking about your nipples for a long time.”
My entire body blushed, and when he gave out that rough chuckle, I had a feeling that’s exactly what he wanted. He reached forward and ran his knuckle down my breast before pinching my nipple between two of his fingers.
I gasped with the sensation, arching my back and pressing my thighs together.
“So sensitive.” He leaned forward, licking my other nipple. “So reactive.”
I let out a breath, and then I couldn’t think of much else.
I was on my back, and he hovered over me, licking and sucking and biting at my breasts to the point that I writhed beneath him.