Chapter Thirteen
Dorian doesn’t let me get in my car. Instead, with a hand firmly wrapped around my arm, he takes me to his.
Valerie looks like she wants to protest when we leave the bar, but I stop her with a subtle shake of my head.
Dorian’s in a dangerous mood right now, and I won’t risk his rage turning on either of my roommates— former roommates.
I don’t speak in the car, too nervous to say anything to him.
Dorian doesn’t try to initiate a conversation, either—not until we park in front of his house.
Then, he turns to me and says, “You’re in trouble, Mira.
When we get inside, you are going to go directly to my room, where you will wait for your punishment.
If you know what’s good for you, you are going to strip naked and wait for me on my bed while I assure my crew that you did not run away or try to ask for help. ”
I swallow harshly. If Connor or Seamus think that I tried to run or that I talked, I’m once again in serious danger. “I don’t want to be punished.”
Dorian’s eyes harden. “Of course you don’t, but you do need to learn.”
“I told you I was going out,” I say, feeling my brows furrow.
“You said you were going out to dinner with your roommates. You did not say you were going to a shitty dive bar to pick up guys. You did not say that you would let another man put his hands on you.”
“Ronny didn’t—”
“Do not say his name,” Dorian snaps. “I’m barely holding on, Mira. I have patience, but I am not a saint. You’ve tempted my wrath a whole fucking lot tonight. Don’t make it worse for yourself. Go to my room, get naked, wait on the bed.”
“I’m not going to get naked,” I say, growing irritated. “I’m not taking my clothes off. Just because you dislike something I did doesn’t mean you can punish me like an errant schoolgirl. I am not a child, I am an adult, and you’re being unfair.”
“The adult world is unfair,” he seethes. “Life is unfair. You’re tempting my fairness right now.” He inhales a deep breath, nostrils flaring before he opens his door and climbs out.
I stay put. There is no way I am going to follow him into the House of Horrors like a condemned prisoner going to their execution.
I’m going to stay right fucking here. Dorian glances at me, shakes his head, and rounds the car to my door.
On instinct, I lock it, even though I know the gesture is futile.
He releases a puff of laughter, then shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, withdrawing the key FOB to the car.
He clicks a button; the car unlocks. Before I can lock it again, he wrenches open the door and leans over me.
Ignoring my protests, he snaps off my seatbelt, grabs my arm, and physically drags me out of the car.
“Are you fucking insane?” I demand. “Stop! I did nothing that deserves a…”
“Punishment? You did. As for insanity,” he cuts off with a chuckle, “you are pushing me phenomenally close to the point of no return. Now, compose yourself.”
I clench my jaw as he steers me into the house. We pass by the living room; Dorian stops when he sees Seamus and Connor seated there, sharing a drink.
Seamus glances over me impassively. “Looks like you found her. Problems?”
“Nope, our guest just needs a clarifications of the rules of this house.”
“You need any supplies?” Connor queries, making me tense. “I have a few toys that could come in handy. Crop, cane, wartenberg pinwheel—”
“No, thank you. I’ll handle it. She wasn’t running or doing anything dangerous, just rebelling in her own way.”
“I was getting drinks with my friends,” I hiss, coming embarrassingly close to stomping my foot as though I’m a child.
“Not my problem,” Connor says, turning back to Seamus. “Your Dorian’s charge. What he says goes.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Am I not a human being?”
“Not in my eyes,” Connor says tersely, looking back to me again. “To me, you’re a loose end and a liability. Listening to Dorian is the only thing that will make you less of a problem, so I suggest you do so.”
“Connor,” Dorian says. “We discussed this.”
“I won’t hurt your precious girlfriend,” Connor says. “As long as she’s not a problem.”
Seamus casts Connor a nasty look. “Do you ever let shit go? Cut it with the threats. You won’t hurt her, period. You yourself said that she’s Dorian’s problem.”
If Seamus had left it at period, I might feel a bit warmer to him. As is, they’re all discussing me as though I’m Dorian’s property. It’s dehumanizing, incensing, and makes me all the more desperate to get out of this house.
“Enough,” Dorian says. “Connor, keep your bullshit to yourself.” With that, he tugs me away from the living room. I go willingly at first, but as soon as we reach the staircase, I start struggling.
“Dorian,” I say, panic taking root in me.
What I’ve heard about his punishments suggests that they’re extremely intimate, and I don’t want to experience that.
I don’t want to give myself to him that way.
I nearly trip as he pulls me up the staircase; Dorian steadies me with an arm around my waist, glancing at me before sweeping me into his arms, cradling me to his chest. I start to struggle immediately. “Dorian, please—”
“Hush,” he says. “You’ll beg me in a bit. Not yet.”
“Dorian—”
“Keep talking, sweetheart, and I’ll only add to your punishment. So far you’re up to twelve.”
What?
“No, Dorian—”
“Thirteen.”
“You can’t just—”
“Fourteen.”
I finally seal my lips. I feel his low chuckle rumble through his chest and vibrate into me as he carries me down the hallway leading to his room, opens his door, and slams it shut behind us.
He sets me down on the bed, folding his arms as he stares at me. “Strip.”
There’s no deterring him. He’s going to punish me regardless of if I cooperate, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. Fear shoots through my veins, accompanied by a crushing sense of resignation. Since I can’t sway him, I need to find a way to get through tonight.
Despite my unease, I can’t deny the sliver of interest that prickles at me.
I’m mostly horrified, but there’s a small part of me that’s curious.
I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help myself.
Despite my better sense, I can’t deny that he’s attractive, and everything he’s told me about his kinks is extremely titillating.
“Dorian, I—I don’t know how this works…” I try to remember the countless stories Cara’s told me about her kinky exploits and even her experience at BDSM parties. “Don’t I get a safety word?”
Dorian’s lips quirk. “Safeword? Sure. I’ll even give you an out. Convince me that you’re sorry for misleading me with your intentions of going out tonight. And for all your offenses last night. Beg for forgiveness, be very earnest about it, and I won’t do what I’ve been aching to do to you.”
I rear back. “You want me to apologize when I’ve done nothing wrong?”
“You have a one-minute window,” Dorian says. “Begin.”
For a moment, I consider it. While some part of me is intrigued, I’m not entirely comfortable with Dorian touching me, but I’m far more uncomfortable implying I did something wrong when I didn’t.
“No,” I say after a long moment of silence.
“Absolutely not. You want me to apologize when you’re the one who’s crashed into my life like a wrecking ball?
You should be apologizing to me, not the other way around.
I am not sorry for going out with my roommates.
I am not sorry for refusing to help you with your shoulder last night.
Actually—” I cut off with a sardonic laugh.
“I am. Then, I could’ve nicked your artery, and your death would’ve looked like an accident. ”
“And that’s fifteen,” Dorian says with a subtle nod.
“Usually, five is quite the punishment. Adding on an additional ten?” He gives a mock wince of sympathy.
“Well. You’re in for a long night, and I’m in for a very enjoyable night.
Let’s hope you don’t have many plans tomorrow; there’s little guarantee you’ll be able to walk. ”
He places a knee on the bed, causing the mattress to dip under his weight.
I scurry backwards, a mixture of genuine fear and something that might be…
arousal? Mixing with it. I can feel Dorian’s anger, but I can also feel his aching desire.
What intrigues me is that his desire is unlike any I’ve felt from a man before.
The other guys I’ve been with were all selfish, wanting to fuck me to get their own release without caring if I got off.
Dorian’s desire is entirely focused on me.
He doesn’t want me for the sake of himself, he wants me for me, and that… is a heady sensation.
Dorian tilts his head to the side as he watches me grab a pillow and hold it in front of me as if it’s a weapon, trying to wade through the muddled mess of my thoughts and emotions.
“You have an option,” Dorian says. “You’ll almost always get options with me, Mira, which is a courtesy the others in this house wouldn’t give you.
Take off your clothes, or I will tie your hands and perhaps even your feet to the bedposts, and rip them off you.
You will remain like that, spread eagle and open to me, until I’ve extracted my punishment.
” My breath hitches; his lips quirk. “You have thirty seconds.”
I should take off my clothes. I may hate myself for it, but I am curious to see where this goes.
I have no doubt that he will tie me down if I don’t give him what he wants, and if I let him do that, I’ll have absolutely no control.
I don’t think I’ll have much control tonight, regardless of what I do, but I could have at least some if I decide to give in.
Then again… I don’t want culpability. I don’t want the guilt that accompanies giving into him.
“Fuck you, Dorian. You can’t always get what you want as soon as you want it.”
Dorian chuckles. “You’re very right there, Mira.
But tonight, I’m going to give you the punishment you deserve, which is exactly what I want.
I want to watch you fall apart, watch your eyes glaze over with pleasure, watch you turn incoherent with it.
” He grabs the pillow from my hands and tosses it away, swiftly straddling me and cuffing my wrists in his hands, pinning my arms above my head.
“I want to hear you beg, plead that you’ve had enough, only for me to continue on. ”
“Dorian—”
“I want to taste you everywhere there is to taste you. I’m going to taste you everywhere there is to taste you.
I’m going to play with you until I’ve extracted as many orgasms as I can from you with just my touch.
And then…” he cuts off with a chuckle. “Then I might use toys to finish off the punishment.”
Toys?
“First, though, I’m going to start out with these gorgeous fucking breasts,” he says. He pauses for a long moment, gazing at me, then gives his head a shake. “I changed my mind. I’m not going to tie you down. I want to feel you struggle against me. I want to feel you turn limp from coming.”
My thighs clench, and a pulse in my core robs me of the ability to speak.
He grips the collar of my shirt in his hands.
The sound of material ripping echoes through the air as he splits my shirt clean down the center and pushes the scraps away, leaving them to hang around my shoulders.
He rids me of the tatters with a few sharp tugs.
His eyes fall to my bra and flare with hunger as he tracks the rapid rise and fall of my chest. He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a small, folded knife.
I shrink back, terrified, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
With a flick, he opens the knife, making me wince.
He examines the blade for several moments, appearing thoughtful.
“I almost stabbed that fuck who had the gall to touch you tonight,” he says conversationally. “I almost did something as dumb as incite violence in a room chock-full of people because of you. That would’ve been quite the mess to clean up, and it would’ve been entirely your fault.”
I want to scream that him deciding to stab someone could never be my fault, but fear keeps my lips frozen.
Dorian must have some mind-reading ability, though, because he looks at me with a small smile.
“Yes, Mira, your fault. I’m calculated and meticulous; I don’t fuck up.
You, however, have already driven me to the brink of madness.
I think it’s only fair I return the favor. ”
I’m frozen with a heady mixture of fear and anticipation as he stares down at me like the predator who’s just trapped his prey.
He runs his fingers under the wired lining of my bra, lifting it from my skin, then cuts it with a single, precise flick of his blade.
A long breath shudders out of him as he gazes down at my breasts, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
His hands settle on my waist, giving it a squeeze, before running up and cupping my breasts.
He molds the globes in his palms, not seeming put off by the fact that they’re on the smaller side, barely enough to fill his palms.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. “Better than I imagined.” He runs his thumbs over my nipples, back and forward, watching as they bead under his touch. A faint smile touches his lips as pinpricks of pleasure run through my breasts, and my back inadvertently arches to push them into his palms.
“Such a good girl,” he praises. “Offering yourself up to me like a sacrifice. I think you and I are going to get along splendidly, Mira.” He leans down, tongue laving along my nipple, and sparks of pleasure travel straight from his tongue to my core.
Panic suffuses me, but not because I’m afraid of Dorian; it’s because I’ve never felt this way during foreplay.
My heart hammers away in my chest as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, making a low, rumbly groan of pleasure.
He likes doing this; I can feel it, and what shocks me is that his pleasure isn’t selfish.
There’s a synergy between us that I’ve never experienced before, and it terrifies me.
“Wait!” I cry out, finding enough mobility to push his head away. “Wait—” Dorian pulls back, studying my expression, brows drawn. I’m panting, flushed, and trying to unfuck my thoughts and ground myself in reality, because a simple touch from him is enough to scramble my mind.
“Shh,” Dorian soothes. “Mira, we’ve barely gotten started.”