Chapter 18 #2
She shoots me a surprised glance. “So you’re living a Cinderella story?”
Either that or some version of a nightmare.
No doubt some women would be happy right now. And a part of me insists I should be grateful. I mean, after all, what’s not to love about being with two sexy billionaires intent on spoiling me and taking care of sexual needs that I didn’t know I had?
But the truth is, I’d rather be back in my ordinary life.
“Well, you’ve certainly found a prince.”
“Mmm.” I’m not sure which man she’s referring to. And they’re both devastatingly handsome. But I know the truth. This life might have luxuries, but it’s nothing more than a beautiful prison. My choices are no longer my own.
On the plane, as we were landing, I informed them I was not giving up teaching.
Reluctantly they agreed. For now. As long as it was only part-time only. And as long as I could manage all my obligations to our family.
Thankfully I have all summer before I have to teach again. The only thing I’ll need to do is publish some papers. Not that that’s easy.
All too soon, I’m walking back up the path to the cottage.
When I reach for the door handle, it swings open. Dorian fills the frame, and he sweeps his gaze over me approvingly before glancing at the bag.
“Did a little shopping at the spa?” Surprisingly his voice holds only a quiet note of curiosity.
“I thought the makeup artist did a nice job.” My tone is a little more defensive than I would have liked, so I breezily add, “I have appearances to keep up, as you keep telling me.”
He tilts his head, studying me with that unruffled calm. “You don’t need makeup to be beautiful, Isla.” He sounds sincere, and it throws me off.
“But still, all of this was almost a thousand dollars.” And I’d almost choked when I signed for the items.
He shrugs, effortless, like it’s pocket change. “If it makes you happy.”
Is this man for real? I narrow my eyes, searching for the catch, but there isn’t one, leaving me off balance again.
He steps aside to let me enter, then locks the door behind me.
“Something to drink? Or eat to hold you over until we arrive at the restaurant?”
Now that I’m near him, my knees become wobbly. “I’m fine.” Though the champagne in the ice bucket is tempting, I daren’t have more bubbly.
“In that case, can you be ready to go in an hour?”
“I just need to change,” I say, steadier now. “I’ve already taken a shower.” And had the chance to soak in a luxury bath.
He glances over his shoulder at Brennan, who’s been sitting at a desk, a computer in front of him.
“In that case”—predatory intent lights Dorian’s eyes—”we’ve got some extra time. ”
My heart picks up a few extra beats. “But… My hair. My makeup.” He’s spent a fortune on both.
“We’ll be careful, won’t we, West?”
“Most assuredly.”
Dorian takes the bag from my hand, then captures my wrist and draws me into the bedroom.
He sets the bag on the dresser and releases me.
My men move as if they’ve planned this moment, slowly stripping me.
The fabric slides off my shoulders to pool at my feet, and Dorian crouches to pull down my panties.
Moments later, I’m bare under their gaze, nipples hard and trembling.
Brennan presses a kiss to my collarbone, then makes his way down, tracing a path that sends a shiver through me. Dorian’s teeth graze my hip, sharp enough to make me gasp, his hands steadying me as my body weakens.
I’m caught, pinned between them, their mouths worshipping my skin like it’s theirs to possess.
Dorian parts my thighs and slides his fingers inside me—slow, curling, teasing until I gasp and involuntarily tilt my hips toward him.
He watches me, eyes dark and unyielding, drawing out every shudder, but he stops just as I start to unravel, leaving me aching, empty.
Then the confounding man pulls his hand back, licking his fingers clean with a deliberate swipe of his tongue. Desperate, I reach for his jutting cock.
As I touch him, he clamps his hand over mine and shakes his head.
“I fully intend to suffer.” His voice is low and gravelly. “As you will.”
“But— ”
He pushes me back onto the bed, and the mattress dips under my weight.
“Dorian—”
Ignoring me, he lowers his head.
The man is relentless—lips and tongue working me over, sucking, teasing, driving me higher until I’m gasping, writhing, clutching the sheets.
As always, I seek out Brennan. He’s standing next to us, his pants unzipped, hand wrapped around his engorged shaft.
His gaze locked on me, he fists himself, motions getting faster as he watches me lose myself in Dorian.
I’m dizzy from the sensuality, lost in the heat of them both.
Brennan groans as he spills his hot ejaculate in sexy ribbons. Then he wipes some of it on me, just below my belly button.
This is too much.
Dorian flicks his tongue once more, pushing me to the edge, and I’m there—right there—trembling, ready. And then…
He pulls back, standing with a wicked, knowing glint. My thighs are slick, my body is shaking, and I’m stunned, delirious, unable to process that he’s leaving me like this, teetering on the brink.
“As I said,” he drawls, raising a brow, “I’m going to suffer.” His voice dips, and he leans toward me. “And so are you.”
I’m panting, staring up at him, my mind a haze of want and disbelief. He’s serious—walking away, leaving me wrecked and unsatisfied. Somehow, it’s worse knowing he’s denying himself too.
“You will find this is worth the wait.”
I’m shaking so hard that there’s no way I can believe him .
“Get dressed for us. The evening is young. And I don’t make promises I can’t keep. You’ll see…”