Chapter 7
Edie
“That was better than sex,” Henrietta groans, settling back in her seat as she smiles languidly, her plate empty in front of her.
The four of us are sitting in a private booth in a restaurant that doesn’t even have the prices listed on the menu. It’s that expensive. The whole place screams exclusivity, and I suspect most people dining here are the wealthy elite.
“Then you’re not having the right kind of sex,” Logan retorts, the low lighting throwing his face in shadow and making him seem even more intimidating. Not that Henrietta has noticed. In fact, she’s oblivious to the danger oozing from him. Actually, scratch that, she’s positively lapping it up.
“Are you propositioning me?” she teases, dabbing her lips with her napkin. “Because I’m more than willing to test your theory.”
“If I was, you’d know,” he snaps, before pushing back his seat and standing. “I’m going to check in with the club.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he strides off, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Henrietta giggles. “Oh dear, looks like I’ve upset my angel.
I should probably apologise,” she says, and before I’m able to stop her, she follows him across the restaurant leaving me alone with Dorian, who, so far, has remained as tense as he was when he first entered the pub an hour ago and scared those two arseholes away.
“Should I intervene?” I ask, more than a little concerned for my friend.
“Logan can handle himself,” Dorian says, resting his knife and fork on his plate. He’s barely eaten his steak, let alone spoken a word to me during the meal. If it wasn’t for Henrietta chatting away, it would’ve been a thousand times more awkward.
“I’m not worried about Logan.”
“And you don’t need to be worried about Henrietta, either. Logan won’t hurt her.”
I arch a brow. “Are you sure about that? He seemed pretty pissed off.”
“I’m certain. Despite how he comes across, Logan is more restrained than most.”
“That’s what worries me. Henrietta has a way of getting under people’s skin. It’s what I like most about her, actually. She gives fewer fucks than anyone I know and enjoys pushing people’s buttons just to see what happens. I’m not sure how much more Logan can take. He seemed pretty rattled.”
“Is that why you’re such good friends?” Dorian asks. “Because you both like pushing people’s buttons just to see what would happen.”
“No.”
“You stood me up, Edie. Consider my buttons pushed.”
“Has your ego taken a hit?”
“Are you not attracted to me, is that it?” he throws back.
“Clearly, we have chemistry,” I admit, more than a little uncomfortable as he stares at me. I’m not used to such intense, undivided attention. “It’s just…”
“Just what?” he asks, reaching for my hand, his thick fingers curling around mine.
His touch is like a low pulse of heat that makes a direct connection to my clit, like my body is somehow hot-wired to his.
There’s something overwhelmingly alluring about Dorian, and whilst I’m very attracted to him, I’m also wary of him, too.
The trouble is, when I’m in his orbit, that little voice inside my head telling me I should stay the hell away from him disappears, and in its place, this wanton woman appears.
“Well, for a start, you’re the kind of man who has no issues cutting off other men’s appendages.”
“Those men were predators. I was protecting you both. Besides, I didn’t actually cut off anything.”
“Are you telling me you’re all talk and no trousers?”
“There you go insulting me again, but no, I’m not all talk. I usually follow through on my threats, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate it if I were to do so tonight.”
“My point exactly.”
He sighs. “Okay, look. I’m not going to pretend I don’t condone violence when appropriate, but to be fair, those degenerates had it coming. I’d rather hurt them than they hurt you or your friend.”
I should be far more concerned about the fact he’s admitted to being a violent man, but that warning voice in my head is drowned out by the fact I’m more than a little turned on by it.
So turned on my knickers are wet with arousal.
They have been ever since he stepped into the pub and threatened those arseholes.
Even so, common sense reigns, and I push those thoughts aside.
“I appreciate your concern, but we’re not together, Dorian, and whilst we’ve shared some intimate moments, this thing between us won’t be going any—”
“No,” he snaps.
“No?”
“You don’t get to end things between us.”
“Actually, I can do whatever the hell I want. As a matter of fact…”
But whatever I was about to say is immediately forgotten when he releases my hand and drops his palm to my thigh. His touch is electric and I suck in a breath as his fingers glide upwards beneath my skirt, edging towards my soaked panties.
I should push him away. Instead, I ask, “What are you doing?”
He leans in, brushing his lips against my ear. “You disobeyed me, didn’t you?”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie, trying to shove him away, but he’s like a walking, talking brick wall and there’s no moving him.
“You made yourself come thinking about me,” he continues, his voice rough. “You made yourself come thinking about how good it would feel when I fucked you,” he adds, his lips dropping to that tender spot just below my ear. “Didn’t you, Edie?”
My breath hitches, and I struggle not to moan at the sensual way he’s dragging his lips over my pulse. “I did no such thing. What do you take me for? My niece was still with me.”
“After she left.”
“So not only have you been spying on my best friend, now you’ve been spying on me,” I accuse, bristling. “I could have you arrested for stalking.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t need to spy on you, you just admitted it yourself.”
If I had the presence of mind, I’d slip out the other side of the booth and get the hell away from his wicked mouth and tongue.
As it is I can barely breathe, let alone form a coherent sentence.
Actually, who am I trying to kid? I want this.
I’ve wanted his mouth on me since the moment he left last night.
“I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me,” he continues, his fingers brushing over my damp knickers, and god help me, my legs widen just enough to give him access.
“And you call this punishment?” I whisper, trying my damndest not to moan.
“Hmm. You’re so fucking wet, Edie. Is this all for me?” he replies, slipping his hand into my knickers and gently swirling his finger over my clit.
“Logan is rather hot too,” I bite out.
“You’re going to regret saying that,” he rumbles, expertly rubbing my clit as his mouth clamps down on my neck and he sucks. Hard.
It’s all I can do not to scream with lust. Instead, I grit my teeth, and rock my hips against his hand, chasing the orgasm already building inside of me as he caresses me like a damn pro.
I should be more aware of my surroundings, but this booth is relatively private and, honestly, I’m too turned on to care who might see us.
Releasing my neck, he swipes his tongue over the tender spot, and I can’t help but imagine how it would feel to have his mouth on my clit doing the exact same thing. Despite desperately trying not to make a sound, a tiny whimper releases from my lips as he draws out a clit orgasm.
“Fuck, tell me you want me.”
“I want to come,” I bite out. “So, stop talking and put your mouth back on my neck.”
And just like that, he does exactly what I ask. Moments later, his magic fingers and wicked mouth have me on the precipice of an orgasm that I know will have me screaming his name. If it was Christmas time, it’d be a miracle.
“Dorian,” I pant, chest heaving, body tingling, mind reeling. “I’m going to…”
But right at the moment I’m about to come, he withdraws his hand and puts way too much space between us. I gasp, my whole body shuddering with grief as my orgasm slips away, and I’m left choking on the disappointment.
“I warned you, Edie. Punishment can come in many forms. This is one of them.”
“You bastard,” I hiss, pressing my thighs together in an attempt to chase the pleasure, but it’s no use, it’s already out of reach.
All I’m left with is a dull ache inside my core that echoes the one inside my chest, and I almost sob with frustration, but I catch myself before I can.
I refuse to let him see how much he’s affecting me.
More than that, I refuse to let him see how much this hurts.
“There’s no need for name calling,” he replies, lifting his fingers to his mouth and sucking off my pleasure, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Delicious.”
“You’d better enjoy that because you’re never going to taste me again,” I snap, pissed off beyond measure. He opens his mouth to speak, but I throw up my hand. “And that is not a challenge, that is a fact.”
“We both know that’s a lie,” he replies, tipping his head to the side as he trails his gaze over me in that slow, deliberate way of his.
A storm of complicated emotions rush through me, but instead of giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s got to me, I grab my handbag and slide out of the booth.
“Well, tonight was just delightful, but I need to rescue my friend from your henchman before she gets herself into even more trouble.” With that, I turn my back on Dorian and stride across the restaurant, heading towards the door both Logan and Henrietta disappeared through a few minutes ago.
When I step into the hallway beyond, I find Henrietta crowded against the wall by Logan. I’m not sure whether he’s about to kiss her or strangle her. Either way, she looks delighted.
“I think that’s just about enough of that,” I say, striding over to them both and snagging Henrietta’s arm, tugging her away from him.
Logan steps back, running a hand over his face. He glares at Henrietta, then settles his gaze on me. “Get her out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”
“Ignore him. I was just getting somewhere,” Henrietta protests, throwing him a wink.