Chapter 10
Dorran’s in a dimly lit, brick-walled room. There’re a couple of punching bags behind him, a few pairs of boxing gloves hung up on long nails that seem to be hammered into the wall, along with idle metal chairs strewn haphazardly around the area.
The overhead lights appear mostly fluorescent, and cast a subtle shadow over his side profile, making him look more beautiful than he already is.
His hair is slightly damp, and beads of sweat are running down the column of his strong neck.
He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt that’s all but clinging to his chest, and when I bring my gaze back to his face, I see the sharp contours of his features appear furthermore accentuated against the lights above him.
“I know you’ve got a reputation to uphold,” I begin, “but you’re taking the aesthetic game way too seriously right now.”
His lips twitch. “And I know you’ve got one to maintain as well, but this…” He jerks his head forward. “This seems kinda extensive, don’t you think?”
I move the phone around a bit so that I can show him the mirror and vanity area next to me. “What, the bathroom?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is that really a bathroom, though?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, why?”
He places his right elbow on top of the back rail of his chair, then lifts a shoulder. “Looks too fucking pristine for it to be one.”
“And bathrooms can’t be pristine because…?”
He scoffs. “I don’t know; maybe because all you do in there is shit and piss.” He clicks his tongue. “I mean, an occasional quickie too, if you’re feelin’ like it, but that doesn’t mean your bathroom needs to look like a fucking dollhouse or something.”
I laugh. “I can’t believe you’re complaining about this,” I tell him.
“It’s an unnecessary show of wealth,” he states. “I find it icky.”
“I respect that.” I smile at him. “But I didn’t build this place; my mom did.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from her,” he remarks.
“Have you met her, then?”
Dorran rolls his eyes. “I didn’t ask you to sneak into your bathroom to talk about your mom, Cignette.” He leans back in his chair. “Show me those tits of yours so that I can get a damn boner.”
I can’t help but laugh again, even though I know he just evaded my question, and very smoothly, at that. But I guess I’ll have to let it slide. People don’t willingly talk about my mom unless they absolutely have to, so I get it.
“Are you incapable of getting a boner without seeing me naked?” I ask Dorran.
He scowls. “Are you incapable of doing a single thing I ask you to do?”
“I did everything you wanted me to earlier,” I remind him.
He grunts. “Dress – off. Now, Cignette.”
Fuck, I love how he sounds, especially when he’s riled up. It’s fun to bring his edge out; it shows me just how easily I can affect him.
I press my teeth to my bottom lip as I gently push one, and then the other collar of my dress down my shoulders. The silk all but glides over my arms, and I quickly pull the front of it down to my waist before angling my phone far enough for Dorran to see what he wants to.
I’m not wearing a bra; I mostly never do. So, when I catch Dorran’s eyes after putting myself on literal display for him, I see how dark yet heated they seem to look.
He swallows as he scans every inch of me that’s visible to him through the screen, then runs the tip of his tongue over his lower lip.
My nipples harden to the point of pain; my breasts feel heavy. My chest warms against his stare, and my breaths turn shallow as I continue to watch him take me in.
“Dorran.”
He meets my gaze. “Yeah.”
I lean my head against the wall and grin at him. “Show me what I do to you.”
He arches a brow. “Is that a command, Little Swan?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
He chuckles. “You’re bad,” he says. “So damn bad.” He shifts in his chair, lowers his phone, and widens his thighs. He then brings his right hand over his crotch and cups the base of his very evident hard-on through his black, skintight tracks.
I suck in a breath when the veins on the back of his hand shift as he squeezes himself further.
“See?” he says, his voice a little raspy. “This is what you do to me, sweetheart. This is how much I want you; how much I want to ruin you, fucking worship every part of you.” He squeezes himself again, and my God, I’m so close to bringing a hand between my legs and finger-fucking myself.
But I can’t. I won’t. Because I don’t wanna miss a second of this – of him.
“Stroke yourself,” I tell him.
His eyes blaze as they meet mine. “So demanding today,” he muses.
“I like to think that I have just as much right to order you around as you do me.”
He smirks. “Aye.” He runs his hand over his length, and fuck me, he’s big. “But if you were someone else, I’d have ended them before they even thought about asking me to do something.”
“Noted,” I quip, then raise a brow. “Now, stroke yourself proper, dahling; I don’t have all day.”
He laughs and shakes his head a little, then starts to really work himself. He squeezes his base, cups his cock from over his tracks, and strokes himself up and down. His chest is moving too fast, and with each rustle of fabric against his palm, his breathing grows more and more audible.
He thrusts his hips forward, increases his pace, and spreads his thighs further apart.
I’m hot – literally. I’m damn near burning up.
Watching Dorran touch himself because I commanded him to, is fucking empowering.
He’s absolutely stunning like this – so disordered and blatant – and I simply can’t take my eyes off him.
He tips his head back and moans, resulting in the muscles of his neck to stretch. It’s a deep, slightly restrained sound, but it still makes me temporarily hold my breath.
He licks his lips, strokes himself one last time, and then moves his hand away from his cock before bringing his phone back up again. “If I continue doing that,” he tells me, “I’ll end up coming in my damn pants, and that, Little Swan, can’t happen. Not right now, at least.”
“But I didn’t ask you to stop, did I?”
He chuckles. “No, you didn’t. But if it were up to you, I’d be staining my pants with my cum, and that’s way out of my style.” He gives me a wink. “Just because I did what you wanted me to, doesn’t mean I’ll also give you complete satisfaction of it. I’m not that generous, sweetheart.”
I work my jaw. “No, but you sure are a piece of shit,” I tell him.
“Uh-uh.” His features darken as he gives me a piercing look. “Watch that mouth, will you? Because I know just how to shut it.”
“What, so you’ll slit my throat for calling you out, then?” I ask.
He grins. “Oh, Little Swan.” He laughs momentarily, and goosebumps prick my skin at the deliciously cold glint that takes over his eyes.
“The only reason I’ll ever spill your blood is if you ask me to.
And trust me, with how much you’ve already affected me, it won’t take a lot of persuasion from you for me to get a taste of what I so madly crave. ”
My throat tightens at his words, and a welcoming chill blankets me at the desire in his voice.
Is it nuts that I’m actually considering what he just said?
Am I crazy for wanting this – for wanting his blade to cut through my skin just so I can feel his mouth against it after?
Maybe; maybe not. What matters most, though, is that the idea itself makes me feel abuzz with something strong, something I’ve never felt before.
“The thought of your lips tainted with my blood – it makes me so fucking wild, Dorran,” I tell him honestly.
He smirks. “Then ask me for it the next time you and I see each other, and I swear I’ll give it to you.”
“Only if I get a taste of you in return,” I add.
That makes him grin again. “Without question,” he says.
I’m so lost in this man that it’s borderline insane. He’s got a hold on me, and I don’t want him to ever let go. And fuck me, I’ve only known him for a day.
But I guess an addiction doesn’t really value time or purpose; it just attacks. It spreads and consumes you, because that’s exactly what it’s made for.
A knock sounds on the door, startling me a little.
I inhale sharply and straighten, then quickly fix my dress.
“Nettie, you alright?” comes Mave’s voice from outside. “Raj told me you’ve been in there for a while. I’m just checking in.”
Shit.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, then curse under my breath. “I’ll be out in two.”
“Gotcha,” he answers.
I look at Dorran and grimace. “I have to go,” I mouth.
He chuckles. “I know,” he mouths back, but it’s more on the snarkier side, which makes me roll my eyes.
I flip him off, and then begrudgingly end the call before sliding my phone into my dress pocket. I turn and face the mirror, fix my hair, and gently clear my throat before pulling open the door and smiling at Mave.
“Hey,” I say to him.
He looks me up and down, and I see that he’s holding two cups of espresso macchiato in his hands.
“Ah, you got my coffee.” I take both cups from him, brush past him, and head for my desk.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.
I place the cups next to my laptop and slump into my chair, then stretch my legs and sigh before closing my eyes. “Golden.”
“You look pretty damn red to me,” Mave says.
I open my eyes. “Huh?”
He sighs. “Flushed, Nettie; you look kinda feverish.”
If Dorran Ledger said the exact same things to you as he did to me, you’d be just as red in the face, Mave, I wanna tell him, but don’t. For obvious reasons.
“Just a bit on edge,” I lie. “You know, with what happened earlier…”
His expression softens, and he nods. “Of course.”
I know he isn’t stupid enough to believe me entirely, but I also know that he trusts me enough to not doubt or question me unnecessarily.
I feel bad for not being honest with him, but how exactly am I supposed to tell my damn bodyguard that I’m into someone who’s the county’s most dangerous man; that he’s literally the Bloody Prince of Riverside?
Hiding it from Mave is the only option. The only sane one, at least.
And, as I smile at him again, I realize that the longer I keep Dorran a secret from him, the harder it’ll get for me to remove myself from the labyrinth of duplicity that I’ve created around the people in my life.
Things are bound to get messy, one way or another. But I guess I’ll have to wait and see how reality unfurls itself to me, even though all I wanna do is jump through time and see if I make it.
Or if wanting Dorran turns out to be the last thing I do before I meet my end.