Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Isla
What the hell kind of dystopian nightmare is this?
“I’m fucking warning you, Vale.” Brennan clamps his hand on Dorian’s arm, his voice a low snarl, protective and edged with the same guilt I’d glimpsed in his eyes a few moments ago.
With his molten steel-gray eyes never leaving mine, Dorian shakes off Brennan in a flick of hard muscle.
My robe slips from one shoulder, and my heart slams into my ribs.
I should seize the distraction to run, to scream, but I don’t.
What’s wrong with me? Dorian’s fingers burn my shoulders—his demand echoing in my ears, savage and unhinged . “Do your damn duty.”
Instead of giving into self-preservation instincts, I continue to poke him, rattling his cage, testing how far I can push him. “I’m going back to bed.” I shrug off his grip. “Alone. ”
His eyes blaze down at me, dark and frighteningly feral. I should be terrified.
“You heard me, wife.” His voice rumbles deep, vibrating through me. “It wasn’t a request or a negotiation.”
I shiver. And damn it, heat begins to uncurl deep inside me, the fury. This should turn me off, but God help me, it doesn’t.
Shocking me, Dorian moves with lightning speed.
One second, I’m glaring; the next, I land on his shoulder so hard that breath whooshes out of me.
I pound my fists on his back as he pivots toward the bedroom, but he’s as solid as stone. “Put me down, you bastard!”
He doesn’t.
Instead, he clamps my thighs with his arm. As if I weigh nothing, he strides down the hallway.
“Vale! The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
But Dorian is not stopping for anything.
As we cross the threshold, he kicks the door closed behind us and then drops me to my feet on the rug by the bed.
Frantically, struggling to catch my breath, I gather my gaping lapels.
My husband towers over me, pants tight across his hips, a bulge already straining against the front. I’m as horrified as I am fascinated, and I can’t stop staring.
Startling me, he clamps my upper arms and forces me to my knees. Then slowly and deliberately he unfastens the button at his waist and drags the zipper down.
His pants swoosh to the floor, and his already-enormous cock fills my vision.
“Get me hard, wife.” The order is cold and rough, but his gray eyes are molten steel .
With the way he’s throbbing, it can’t be possible to get him any harder than he already is.
“You heard me.”
Setting my chin, I glare up at him. I don’t know what to do, but worse, I despise the heat that’s continuing to grow inside me. It’s awful and wrong, but my response is there, and no doubt my husband knows it.
A moment later, the bedroom door slams open, crashing against the wall as Brennan storms in.
“I’ll knock you out myself, Vale!” His voice has a vicious snarl, and he’s already formed a fist.
Dorian wheels, meeting him chest to chest, his teeth gritted. “Back the fuck off.”
Frantically I look between the two men.
“The hell I will.”
“Brennan,” I whisper, desperate to stop this display of raw alpha power. It terrifies me as much as it hypnotizes me. “Don’t. Please.” I’m the one who challenged Dorian, and I refuse to apologize.
Brenan flicks his gaze toward me.
“Please,” I implore a second time.
“Isla…”
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I’m okay.”
His fist cocked, he looks back at Dorian.
“Back. The fuck. Off,” Dorian repeats.
“Only because Isla asked.” Slowly he lowers his arm and takes a single step back. “I swear I’ll lay you out if you cross a line.” He stands ready to follow through on his threat, protecting me from the man I married.
“Now…” Dorian returns his attention to me. Through gritted teeth, he manages, “Do as you were told.”
His gravel-rough voice sears me, making me shiver.
My thighs clench. I hate this. Hate him. But I kneel up to follow his command .
“I’m waiting.”
Refusing to look up at him, more uncertain than I’ve ever been in my life, I slide my trembling hands up his muscular thighs.
He presses his cock against my lips. “Taste me.”
To reinforce his demand, he captures my face between his palms.
Having no choice—and not wanting one—I lick the salty drop of precum from his slit.
“That’s it, my sweet little innocent. I want to fucking corrupt you.”
A man’s approval is new to me, and it emboldens me.
Shutting out everything else, I flick my tongue against his cockhead. His scent floods me—musk, salt, power. It’s intoxicating.
Dorian growls, low, guttural, a rumble that sends arousal through me. “Yeah. That’s it.” He digs his fingers into my scalp, forcing himself deeper.
Suddenly unable to breathe, I gag. My throat’s burning, and my eyes sting with blinding tears.
But because he’s holding me so tight, I can’t pull back. Want and anger twist into a knot I can’t untangle.
His hips jerk, and his cock pulses against my tongue.
Desperate for some kind of control, I grab hold of his waist, hoping against hope that I can push myself back from him. But he’s all angular and hard, a rock that I can’t budge.
He begins to move faster and faster. Impossibly his length seems to grow in my mouth. I can’t do this.
Deep in his throat, Dorian groans.
Is he close to coming?
Then moments later, he abruptly pulls my head back. His eyes are stoked with flames, leaving me confused. “Not yet.”
My lips are swollen, and the taste of him fills my mouth.
In a single movement, he brings me to my feet and lifts me from the floor, but there’s nothing kind about the way he holds me.
The lapels of my robe fall even farther open, and cool air kisses my bare skin as he carries me to the bed.
Before I’m fully prepared, he deposits me on the edge of the mattress.
Trying to catch my breath, I scramble backward, desperate to escape him.
“Not so fast.” He grabs me and drags me back to where I was.
Then, with his palms flat on my chest, he pushes me back and pins me down. “Stay there.” The words are wrapped in threat, his voice as cold and commanding as it was a few minutes ago.
Kneeling on the floor, he wedges my thighs apart with his broad, unyielding shoulders, forcing me wide. I’m exposed to him with his hot breath on my core.
Before I’m ready, he lowers his mouth to my pussy. “No!”
Using his lips and tongue, he claims me with ruthless hunger.
Brennan is there, watching, his cock hard.
Startling me, he takes it out and strokes himself, his grip firm.
The sight of him watching this whole thing is sexily overwhelming.
“Don’t you dare hold back,” Dorian warns.
As he devours me, I buck against his hold. I’m shameless, a hussy who wants what he’s giving me.
“You belong to me. And the whole world will know it.”
He plunges a finger inside, angling to find my most sensitive spot.
“Dorian!” I want to be immune to him, able to keep my responses a secret, but he’s masterful with my body.
He swirls his tongue, slow at first, then fast, relentless .
In seconds, liquid heat is pulsing through me, and I dig my fingers into the mattress.
“Give me what I want.”
Want? This is a demand, as if he has something to prove to himself. To Brennan. To me.
He eats me completely, his stubble scraping my tender flesh, bruising my thighs with every greedy suck.
Helplessly I thrash, wishing this didn’t feel so good.
He clamps my thighs harder and forces them wider. “You’ll never be allowed to hide from me.” Dorian pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and his lips are glistening with my arousal.
The sight of it, the feel of him finger-fucking me, is too much.
A climax hits with shocking speed, and I shatter, my body arching. I breathlessly scream his name, craving him despite my fury with the way he’s treated me.
With a triumphant grin, he stands. Eyes locked on mine, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Such a good girl.”
I can’t help but look over at Brennan.
His eyes are dark, and he hasn’t taken his gaze off me.
Dorian leaves me to grab a condom from the nightstand. Foil glints in the dim light, and he rips it open. “Soon…” He has me roll the protection over his thick length. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to performing this intimacy. “Soon we’ll be skipping this.”
My breath freezes.
He wants to get me pregnant?
Of course he does.
What better way to cement his position among Houston’s elite? And being a perfect family would look great on some campaign billboard .
Why hadn’t I considered that? Maybe because I couldn’t get past the idea of even having sex?
But suddenly I’m thinking about it, and my response is terrifying. I imagine him spilling his hot seed inside me, and my belly swelling with his child.
I shiver as he looms over me, his cock heavy and pulsing, savage intent carved in his eyes.
He grasps my hips, lifting them off the mattress, angling me up like I’m his to wield. “You’ll take every inch of me.” In a single, punishing drive, he thrusts in, stealing my breath.
There’s a sharp pain, then pleasure as my body stretches and yields as he fucks me hard.
This isn’t like it was before. This is possessive.
There’s no way I can bear this.
And yet I do.
He pistons in mercilessly as a growl tears from his throat.
“You’re mine. For eternity.”
Sweat beads on his brow, and his midnight-colored hair sticks to his forehead.
I have no idea how, but he tightens his grip and lifts me even higher. Every one of his thrusts slices through my defiance.
As much as I despise the way he’s taking me—despise him —my body betrays me, clenching tight, racing toward the edge he’s dragging me toward.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands. “Say it.”
I don’t want to be helpless to him, and yet…
“Fucking say it, Isla.”
“I want…”
“Say it.”