Chapter 11 Dorian
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dorian
The moment our lips touch, I’m transported back to a place I’ve longed for but never dared to return to.
Her mouth is soft, yielding, and I can taste the hint of sugar on her tongue, a sweet, intoxicating flavor that makes me want more. I’ve missed this. Missed her. More than I ever allowed myself to admit.
My hands find her waist, pulling her closer, and she melts into me, her curves fitting against my body as if we were made for this. I trail kisses down her jaw, her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my lips.
The snow falls around us, a soft, muffled backdrop to the pounding of my heart. I want to devour her, to claim every inch of her skin with my mouth and my hands.
But I force myself to slow down, to savor this moment.
“Norah,” I murmur against her skin, “I need to apologize. Properly.”
She pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine. “What do you mean?”
I take her hand, leading her to the door. “Let me show you.”
The cold air bites at my skin, but the scent of roses fills my nostrils, a heady, intoxicating aroma that makes my head spin.
I guide her to the porch, my heart racing with anticipation. She turns to face me, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in quick gasps.
I can see the desire in her eyes mirroring my own.
I’m lost in her scent—that intoxicating Omega aroma hits me like a drug, stirring my Alpha instincts to the surface.
Norah’s mouth is warm and pliant against the bite of the snow, her tongue shyly meeting mine, laced with the faint tang of the peppermint.
It’s a match to gasoline; all the walls I’ve built around my desires shatter in an instant. I’ve hungered for her for so long, burying the ache deep while my Alpha side howled in the nights.
My hands grip her waist, and I yank her body against mine. Her soft curves yield, her heavy breasts crushing into my chest, and a guttural growl rumbles from my throat into her mouth, primal and unchecked.
She whimpers softly, her fingers twisting into my open shirt, nails scraping my skin through the gaps in the fabric.
I devour her kiss, my tongue dominating hers in a fierce dance that sends blood rushing to my cock, making it strain hard against my zipper. Snowflakes dissolve on our heated skin, but the fire between us surges, melting the winter chill.
I tear my lips from hers to drag them down her jaw, teeth grazing the tender flesh, her pulse thundering under my tongue like a war drum.
“Norah,” I rasp, voice gravelly with the Alpha command edging in, “fuck, I’ve needed you. Needed this scent, this taste. It’s driving me insane.”
Her breath stutters, and she arches her neck, offering more of that vulnerable expanse. I seize it, licking a trail up her throat, savoring the salty warmth blended with her Omega essence that makes my head spin.
My palms slide down to grip her ass, kneading the plush cheeks through her clothes as I rut my hips forward, grinding my throbbing erection into her core.
She arches back, a needy mewl escaping her, and I inhale her arousal blooming, slick and heady, soaking through to tease my senses. But layers taunt me; I crave her bare, marked by my mouth, my hands.
“Norah, baby, please,” I plead, my lips at her ear, hot breath fanning her skin. “Show me your tits. I’ve fantasized about them every damn night—round, heavy, nipples begging for my teeth. Let me see them, touch them. I need you so bad it hurts.”
The words tumble out, desperate, my fingers already yanking at her clothes, trembling with the force of my restraint fraying.
She pauses, eyes glazed with lust as they meet mine, but then she whispers, “Out here? In the snow?”
There’s a thrill in her tone, her Omega instincts responding to my dominance, body quivering.
“Right fucking here,” I snarl, possessiveness surging as I help rip her clothes upward, exposing the lacy black bra straining against her full breasts.
I gape, saliva pooling, before unhooking it with fumbling urgency. They tumble free, pale globes with dusky nipples pebbling in the cold, and I groan like a beast unleashed.
“So fucking perfect, Norah. Mine.” I dive in, mouth latching onto one peak, sucking voraciously while my hand molds the other, thumb flicking the hard tip.
She cries out, fingers yanking my hair, pulling me tighter as her body bows. “Dorian… yes,” she moans.
I lash my tongue over the bud, nipping sharply, then soothe with wet laps, switching sides to worship the twin. My other hand dives between her thighs, palming her soaked panties, the heat of her slick seeping through.
She’s drenched for me, Omega slick preparing her, and it snaps something feral inside. I lick broader paths across her chest, murmuring pleas between sucks.
“More, Omega. Let me devour you. Taste that sweet pussy I’ve craved.”
The wind whips colder now, raising shivers on her skin beyond the pleasure, and she gasps, “Inside... please, Dorian. I need you inside me.”
Her words are a command wrapped in plea, her scent spiking with urgency.
I growl in agreement, snatching her hand, but coordination fails us in our haze. We stagger toward the door, her clothes abandoned in the drifts, my own coat billowing open over my unbuttoned shirt, bare chest prickling with gooseflesh I ignore.
Her breasts sway with our clumsy steps, nipples still shiny from my saliva, and it takes all my control not to pin her against the door and rut her immediately.
She’s shaking as she hands me her keys.
I jam it into the lock, shoving the door wide as we nearly fall through.
The heat from inside envelops us like a lover’s embrace, the door banging shut. We clash again in sloppy and ravenous kisses, shedding boots mid-stride.
My coat pools at my feet, shirt following to bare my muscled torso. Norah’s hands claw at me, nails raking fiery trails down my back, and I propel her backward, slamming her against the entry wall.
My mouth claims hers, tongue plunging deep, while my hands strip her skirt and panties in one frantic pull. It leaves her gloriously nude, legs parting instinctively for me.
The wall teases but doesn’t satisfy; I crave more. Dropping to my knees on the worn rug, I hook her thigh over my shoulder, burying my face in her core.
Her pussy gleams with slick, folds puffy and inviting, scent overwhelming, making my cock weep pre-cum.
“Look at you, so ready for your Alpha,” I rumble, eyes locked on hers before I strike, tongue spearing into her, lapping the gush of her arousal.
She keens, crying out my name, one hand bracing the wall and the other fisting my hair as her hips buck.
I feast, lips suctioning her clit, teeth grazing lightly while two fingers thrust inside her clenching heat, curling to stroke her inner walls. Her slick coats my hand, dripping down my wrist.
“Taste so good, Omega. All mine tonight.” I pump faster, tongue flicking relentlessly, building her toward the edge as her thighs clamp my head.
“Fuck... I’m—” She shatters, pussy spasming around my fingers, a flood of slick soaking my face as she screams, body convulsing. I lap through the waves, prolonging her bliss until she’s limp.
But my knot swells at the base of my cock, demanding release, the ache agonizing. I rise, shucking pants and boxers, my thick length springing free.
Norah’s gaze devours me, pupils blown, but she halts me with a hand. “Condom,” she breathes, fishing one from her purse.
I snatch it, ripping the foil with my teeth, rolling it down my shaft with a hiss, the latex tight over my swelling knot.
We crash to the floor, rug cushioning as I pin her beneath me, our mouths fusing in a clash of teeth and tongues. She hooks her legs around my waist, heels digging into my ass.
“Fuck me, Alpha. Now,” she demands, slick pussy grinding against my sheathed cock.
I thrust hard, bottoming out in her soaked depths, her walls fluttering around my girth. I withdraw and plunge again, setting a punishing rhythm, hips slamming with raw need.
I suck her nipple hard while pounding deeper, the condom straining against my knot.
“Harder, Dorian! Claim me,” she begs, nails carving crescents into my shoulders, her scent spiking with fresh slick.
I snarl, leveraging her legs higher, folding her nearly in half to drive impossibly deep. Sweat beads on our skin, the wet slap of bodies and her cries filling the house.
I lick sweat from her collarbone, her throat, marking with soft bites that heal fast but leave the imprint of possession.
“Your pussy’s gripping me so tight, Norah. Milking your Alpha’s cock like it was made for it."
She tightens in response, orgasm coiling visibly in her tensed form. “Close... don’t knot yet,” she whimpers, but her body betrays her, clenching rhythmically.
I slide a hand down, thumb circling her clit, and she explodes, walls convulsing, slick gushing around me. The pressure shoves me to the brink, but I flip us, rolling across the rug in a frenzy of limbs until she’s astride me.
Norah sinks down, hands splayed on my chest for leverage. She rides fiercely, hips circling and bouncing, breasts heaving.
I buck up, the angle grinding her clit against my base. My knot balloons fuller, pressing against her entrance through the barrier, as I grip her hips.
“Ride me, please. Take every inch.”
She’s a vision with her wild hair whippin and her lips parted, chasing her peak. I need to knot, to lock inside her.
“Come again, Omega. Squeeze me until I fill you.”
Her pace stutters, then she crests, pussy rippling in waves that drag me under. I thrust upward, knot swelling to lock, pulsing as I erupt, come jetting hot into the condom in thick ropes.
She collapses forward, biting my shoulder to muffle her wail, our bodies fused in shuddering aftershocks.
We pant in unison, her weight a welcome anchor on my chest as we remain on the floor, slick and sated.
My arms band around her, Alpha instincts purring at the closeness, her scent embedding in my skin.
I kiss her temple, murmuring, “I’m sorry, Norah. For abandoning you. For the pain.”
She lifts her head, eyes soft yet guarded. “Just tonight,” she says firmly. “No promises beyond this.”
But the way her fingers trace my tattoo sends shivers down to my cock.
My heart twists, but I nod. “Just tonight,” I echo, throat tight, pulling her into a kiss.
The chill creeps back eventually, prompting us to get up and head to her bedroom. She curls into my side, head on my chest, my fingers idly stroking her back as sleep tugs.
Outside, snow falls relentlessly, but here, warmth holds.
Just tonight.
For now, it’s enough.
I’ll show her more tomorrow, if she’ll let me.
She’s still asleep, curled against me, her breath slow and steady.
I trace a fingertip along the slope of her shoulder, the freckles scattered like constellations. The rise and fall of her breathing steadies something in me I hadn’t realized was trembling.
Fuck, I’ve missed this. Not just the heat or the noise or the chaos of wanting, but the quiet after. The weight of someone against me.
The proof that I’m still capable of warmth.
It’s almost five. The clock on the bedside table ticks, soft and accusing. I’ve got a conference call at seven with the London office, and there’s no chance I’ll make it if I stay here.
I watch her for another minute. Her hair is messy and wild, one hand tucked beneath her chin, her mouth parted just enough for a sigh to escape.
She looks younger in sleep. Softer. Like the version of her I never stopped seeing.
Carefully, I ease away. She murmurs something unintelligible, shifting closer to the spot where I’d been, chasing the warmth.
I stand there for a beat, just looking. The room smells of her—lavender and something sweet. It’s on my skin, in my lungs, everywhere.
I head downstairs and get dressed. In the kitchen, I find a pen and the back of a grocery receipt.
Didn’t want to wake you. You should rest. The hall looked incredible tonight. You did, too. I’ll call later, if that’s okay.
—D
I fold it once and tuck it into the corner of her fridge door, under a magnet shaped like a fox. It looks small there, out of place, like everything I do lately.
I gather her clothes quietly, laying them near the sofa so she won’t trip later.
For a second, I get back to the room, just to look at her one more time. Just to feel that peace again.
But I can’t.
I grab my coat and step outside. The air bites sharp, the kind of cold that burns your lungs before it clears your head. Snow’s still coming down.
The street’s empty, streetlights haloed in white. I shove my hands in my pockets and start walking toward where I parked last night, boots crunching against the thin ice.
Each breath leaves a cloud behind me. Each step feels heavier.
For a stupid, fleeting moment, I imagine going back. Making coffee. Pretending this is something ordinary.
Fighting for a future with the only woman that I have ever loved.
But I can’t do that now.
Not yet.