Chapter Thirty
Dorian agrees to let me go to the mountain later today on one condition: he accompanies me and I introduce him to my wolf pack.
I argue with him on the way to the apartment tour he set up; he ignores all common sense, stating and restating his intention to meet my wolves.
I only pause arguing long enough for a realtor to show us around a beautiful, pre-furnished one-bedroom apartment with a walk-in closet, large living room, and state-of-the-art kitchen.
Dorian says we’ll take it; he doesn’t listen to any of my protests pointing out that moving away might make his situation with his legion more complex. He’s determined to have his own place with me, to have me all to himself, and he’s both rich and well-connected enough to pull that off.
After signing some paperwork, he takes us to a cute little lunch place, where I resume reminding him that I am heading to see a pack of wild wolves tonight.
Ones that could tear him apart on a whim.
His argument is that if they don’t tear me apart, they wouldn’t harm him.
I don’t know how to explain that I can’t guarantee his safety on the basis of my own.
The pack is kind and gentle to me because the alpha has formed a bond with me and recognizes me as fragile, but the huge wolf has no bond or allegiance to Dorian. He could see Dorian as his next meal.
“Dorian, just let me do this one thing alone,” I urge on our way home. The sun will be setting soon, so I plan to pick up the treats I baked for the pack yesterday and head straight for the mountain. By the time I get there, it should be dark.
“If we’re going to be part of each other’s lives, we need to get acquainted with each other’s families, don’t you think? You’ve met my legion.”
I blink slowly. “And you’ve met Valerie and Cara.”
“Not the same thing,” Dorian says with a subtle shake of his head. “You seem to have chosen a wolf pack as your found family. Odd choice, I’ll admit, but—”
“I didn’t choose the wolves, they chose me,” I stress. “I don’t think they’ll choose you. You’re not like me, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt,” Dorian assures me, squeezing my knee.
Groaning, I scramble for a change in topic, trying to find something to distract him.
“You know, you’ve never told me about your actual family,” I say. “I don’t know where you’re from or anything about your parents—”
“My parents are gone,” Dorian replies, his mood turning dark. His expression blanks, going as stagnant and still as a statue, but his energy becomes a strange mixture of angry and withdrawn.
I swallow. “You don’t have to tell me anything about yourself, but I’d like to know.”
Dorian releases a sigh, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
We pull past the mansion’s automated gates, and he parks his car in front of the ginormous home.
Hand in hand, we walk through the front door.
Seamus and Connor are absent, probably off wreaking havoc somewhere, so Dorian leads me over to the living room couch and pulls me down onto his lap.
“You really want to hear about my life?” he asks. “I’ll warn you now, Mira, it’s not a pretty story.”
“Of course. I want to know you better, especially since you just bought us an apartment.” I shift to straddle him, my knees on either side of his hips.
His lips quirk. “Technically, I didn’t buy it; I signed a six-month lease.”
“Semantics.” I cup his jaw, bracing my free hand on his shoulder. “Tell me, please.”
He deflates at hearing me say please. In the bedroom, he likes hearing me beg, though it has no bearing on his actions. Outside of it, saying please and asking for things seems to be the right way to approach him.
“My mom died giving birth to me,” he says after a long moment.
“She came from money; my dad didn’t. They married because they were desperately in love, but he always resented her a bit for having a rich, albeit estranged, family.
Dad had custody of me as I was growing up, but he was absent.
He left me at our house alone a lot. When I was ten, he disappeared for three weeks, and that’s when social services caught up with me. I was put in a foster home.”
Imagining a young Dorian, confused and alone, makes my heart pang. I let out a soft sigh and lean forward, resting my forehead against his, silently letting him know I’m here for him. He steals a kiss before pulling away, fixing his gaze on the arm of the couch, avoiding my eyes.
“I got into trouble a lot. Nearly ended up in juvie for stealing several times, but always managed to escape at the last second. I fell in with the wrong crowd during high school and learned a lot of things about crime. My foster family at the time only wanted me because of the monthly paycheck I brought, and because they knew that Mom left me a trust fund that’d open up when I was eighteen.
They enjoyed smacking me around while waiting for me to grow up so they could steal my money. ”
“What about your grandparents?” I ask. “You didn’t have any relatives to take you in?”
He shakes his head. “Dad’s parents died when he was young, and Mom’s parents died shortly after I was born.
They also left me money, but I never actually met them.
Anyway, my only redeeming grace in high school was that I was smart.
I nearly failed out of my first year because I missed so many classes, but eventually, I focused on my education.
I didn’t want to become a deadbeat who blew through his money; I wanted to make more of it, to find what I was good at and become the best. I started showing up to school and doing the assignments.
I realized that school was pretty fucking easy for me, and the structure felt good.
” I slide my hands into Dorian’s hair, playing with the silky tresses, and his eyes flutter with appreciation.
He grips my hips, pulling me flush against his body, and I feel his cock start to harden against me.
I bite my lip, attempting to remain focused.
“And then?” I ask, trying to keep from moaning as he grinds his cock right into my core, rocking forward.
“And then I did very well. When I was eighteen, my trust funds unlocked, and I became wealthy overnight. My foster family tried to steal the money from under me, but I got accepted to Greywood and moved out before they could. Here, I met Connor and Seamus.” He fingers the hem of my shirt, tugging it up.
I raise my arms over my head, allowing him to yank it off.
“Our first year, we got up to some shit. There used to be several gangs in the area, and some of them were trying to fuck with Greywood students—charge protection money from the scholarship kids who worked in the city. We made it clear that they couldn’t do that anymore.
End of freshman year, Sergei found us and offered us jobs.
He suggested we band together, form a legion, and work for him.
Protect his interests in the states and prepare to become close affiliates with him after college.
He promised to give us assignments that’d make us rich and offer us a leg up in future business dealings.
” He unclips my bra, drawing the straps off my arms and tossing the material aside.
“It was an arrangement that worked for everyone, so that’s what we did.
Now, we’re embroiled in a few conflicts while trying to wipe Greywood and the surrounding areas clean of all crime that doesn’t go through us and Sergei. ”
He kisses the swell of my breast, running his thumb over my nipple. My back arches and my eyes squeeze shut as I try to remain focused.
“I have… questions,” I say, gasping as he leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth. I feel Dorian’s smile against my flesh.
“I can answer them later. For now, I’m done talking. I’m more interested in getting into that tight pussy again.”
“But Seamus and Connor—”
“Are out of the house for the day.”
Before long, I’m fully naked, with Dorian controlling my movements as I slide up and down his cock, occasionally wincing at the twinge of soreness.
Sore or not, he feels really good. The way he gazes at me with reverence makes me feel like the most powerful woman in the world; the way he rubs his thumb over my clit makes my toes curl with pleasure.
I gasp and moan and whimper as I ride him, digging my nails into his skin so hard it’s a wonder I don’t draw blood.
I fuck myself on his cock until I shatter around him, jerking and crying out loudly as I come. He follows not long after me, groaning from deep in his throat.
In the aftermath, we hold each other, and I come to a very startling realization; I like being held by him so much that I don’t want to stop. Not now, maybe not ever.
I’m at serious risk of actually falling in love with this monster of a man.
Despite my many, many protests, Dorian comes with me when I head up the mountain to see my pack.
We park in my usual place in a small, hidden dirt parking lot, and hike up to where my wolf pack usually hangs out, near their den.
I hope they don’t maul me as well as Dorian for daring to bring an outsider.
Once we get to the clearing where I usually find the alpha, I take Dorian’s hand and lead him to the oak tree where the alpha and I often sit side by side.
“Where are they?” Dorian asks, looking around, attempting to peer through the darkness. “I can barely see anything. Why can’t we use a flashlight, again?”
I set my backpack on the forest floor. “No flashlights. We’re in their territory; I try to respect their animal nature. On clear nights, the moonlight is plenty enough to see.”
“It’s not a clear night,” Dorian points out. “I can barely see—”