Of Blood So Cold (Cignette & Dorran #2)

1.

D orran thrusts his hard length into me again, his movement unrelenting.

He then fists my hair in a grip that makes my eyes water, but makes me want him twice as much.

He grunts and twists his hips, and our thighs slap against each other’s as he buries himself deeper inside me still.

His piercing hits me in just the right spot, making me moan out loud.

My body trembles in the anticipation of an orgasm, and my toes curl against the soft mattress, tangling it between them.

The smell of our combined sweat hits my nostrils, and when I look up at the man who is fucking me in a way that’s both painful and pleasurable, I can’t help but give him a smirk I know will pique his curiosity.

“My, my, Little Swan,” he says in that slightly husky, hypnotizing voice of his. “You seem a little too content, don’t you?” The early-morning light hits his side profile, making his blue eyes glimmer unnaturally.

I place a hand over his damp chest and push my hips upward, meeting his thrust with one of my own. “You wouldn’t want me any other way, would you?”

He chuckles darkly, then tilts his head – an action that is second nature to a predator like him.

“I want you, period . Now, and until the day I fucking die,” he tells me, then grips my hair tighter before pulling back my head and bringing my face closer to his.

“Then fuck me harder, Dorran, because this ain’t your best round yet.”

He laughs. “Such a mouth on you.” He presses a harsh kiss on my lips, making me arch against him. “God, I can’t wait to fuck it with my cock later.”

My pussy clenches around him at that promise, to which he hisses, and I smile.

Dorran brings his right hand up and wraps it around my throat. He squeezes it – gently at first – but then he increases the pressure, and starts pounding into me so hard that my body jerks upward every time he pushes himself inside me.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he whispers, then squeezes my throat tighter. “There you go; look at how well those pupils flare for me.”

My mouth is dry now, and my vision is hazy. And I fucking love it; I love how he suffocates me.

My lips part, and Dorran spits on my tongue, then kisses me bruisingly as he continues to fuck me.

“Choke for me, Cignette,” he commands as he rotates his hips and pushes inside me to the base. “Let me feel your pulse stutter under my thumb.”

I gasp, and he in turn loses his hold on my throat a little.

“Breathe,” he orders, then grins as he slows his thrusts.

I exhale, then gasp a second time when he once again puts pressure on my windpipe.

“Hold it,” he says.

I do, and feel my eyes start to burn.

“Good girl,” he all but purrs, then kisses me again.

A strained sound leaves me as I kiss him back, and his taste, paired with the warmth of his body over mine, triggers my orgasm. Dorran senses it, and lets go of my throat, letting me scream his name as my body trembles while I cum.

“Ah, shit ,” he hisses, then pumps into me once, twice, before a groan rips out of him as he, too, joins me, releasing himself inside me.

I can feel the heat of his cum as it drips down to my ass, so I clench myself around him again, and he lets go of a grunt as he thrusts into me one more time.

“You really are a menace, aren’t you?” he says, then pulls out of me and pushes my legs open further. With a smirk that turns me molten, he brings his right hand between my legs and runs his fingers up and down my sensitive sex, making me whimper.

“Look at the mess we made,” he muses.

“You like the mess we make,” I state. “You always do.”

“Oh, I do.” He circles my clit once, then brings his hand up before putting his index and middle fingers into his mouth.

I watch, completely mesmerized, as his long lashes brush against the high arches of his face when his eyelids flutter, and his cheeks hollow out as he sucks on his fingers.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

Dorran looks at me, smug as he always is. “Open your mouth.”

I do, and he glides his fingers between my lips. I hold onto his wrist and suck, then moan when he pushes them to the back of my throat.

“We taste so good together, don’t we, Little Swan?” he says.

I moan again – loud and unrestrained – and my hips arch forward when he pulls his fingers out of my mouth before bringing them back to my pussy.

“Dor, oh fuck ,” I breathe when he starts rubbing my clit. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He grins. “Never.” He kisses me, then bites my bottom lip. “Now come for me, Cignette; show me how well I can make your body sing.”

I fist the pillow as my breathing turns erratic, and so does his pace. I can feel a familiar warmth between my legs, signaling an orgasm. There are beads of sweat running down my temples and the back of my neck, and my nipples have hardened to the point where they hurt.

Dorran is watching me break apart under him, and he’s enjoying every second of it. There’s a madness to him as he continues to bring me to the edge, and I want nothing more than to show him just what he does to me.

“Kiss me,” I tell him. “So hard that I forget where the hell I am right now.”

He chuckles, then crashes his mouth to mine.

I open up for him, and he takes all of me.

I tug at his bottom lip, then fist the curls at the nape of his neck before molding my lips to his.

And then I feel it – that overwhelming rush of a release.

My back lifts off the bed, and goosebumps prick my entire body as Dorran lets me ride his hand while I come.

My head feels heavy, and there’s this buzzing in my ears that disorients me in the best way possible.

I’ve never felt so out of control, yet so grounded with anyone before. It’s like he knows exactly what does it for me, and he uses it to show me how well he can play me.

I press my thighs together as I lie back down on the bed. I feel high, metaphorically weightless, and this moment – it’s just so…perfect. Blissful, even.

Dorran tries to part my legs again, but I twist them away from him, and laugh when he grabs me by the waist and hauls me to him.

“Asshole,” I say around a grin.

“One more,” he urges.

I shake my head. “I need to clean up.”

He scowls. “No, you don’t.”

I laugh again. “Yes, I really do.”

He makes to lean in, but I shove at his chest, stopping him.

“I said no,” I tell him with a twist of my lips.

He groans his disapproval at my words, but moves back and slumps onto the mattress regardless.

Bending enough so that I can give him a soft kiss on his jaw, I get off the bed and head into the bathroom that’s next to our bed.

Dorran and I’s contemporary condo is beautifully minimalistic.

Warm accented floors, ceilings, and furniture, along with a spacious living room and kitchen make up for every simple comfort the both of us need.

I love our house, even more so because Alex and Varsha live next door.

Having them this close puts me at ease, because after everything we went through in Riverside, and all those we lost, the four of us are not ready to sacrifice anything more than what we already have.

I can’t believe it’s been almost two years since Jayce and Mave were taken from us. A brutal, unexpected twist of fate – one that has left a permanent gap in all our lives.

I still get nightmares about that day, and there are times when Dorran has to physically shake me out of them because the images I see in them are so vivid that I simply can’t tell the difference between reality and illusion.

I’ve had mental scars from a very young age, most of which have faded over time, if not disappeared completely.

But the ones my father left behind after killing both Mave and Jayce – those are the ones that’ll never not hurt; the ones that’ll always haunt me, no matter how much they age.

I sigh as I grab the showerhead and use it to clean myself up.

Placing it back on its stand, I then walk over to the bathroom counter and turn on the faucet.

I wash my hands and splash some cold water on my face, then stare at my reflection in the wide mirror before me.

My cheeks are flushed, and my lips are slightly swollen.

There’s this spark in my eyes that I hadn’t even known existed before I met Dorran.

But ever since him, it’s been a constant, and I keep noticing how much more… lively it makes me look.

I sniff as I pat my hands, and then my face against the plush towel next to the counter, then run my fingers through my shoulder-length pink hair in order to fix them a bit.

I’ve been cutting them and maintaining this length for months now.

It’s a very small change, sure, but sometimes, it’s things like chopping off your hair or dyeing it a crazy color that gives you a sense of power.

And every once in a while when I’m too stressed about content ideas for my fashion vlog, using a productive distraction like this one helps in clearing my head.

I step out of the bathroom, and find Dorran lounging on our bed, still completely naked.

He’s got a hand under his head, and is scrolling through something on his phone with the other.

My eyes then fall on the iridescent dress that’s hung up in our walk-in closet.

It’s the one I’d worn during the charity gala in Riverside – on the night I’d found out that Dorran worked for my parents.

The only reason I’ve kept this dress is because Julian had worked so damn hard on it, and it’s the one thing of his that I have left.

Leaving everything behind and moving to Anaheim was the right choice, but I have to admit that I miss walking down Lure’s long hallways and interacting with every designer that worked there.

But it doesn’t matter now, since Lure does not exist anymore, and neither does my old life.