Chapter 8
I’d never been kissed like that. Not ever.
No one had ever held me with such intensity before. Never pressed themselves against me with such urgency. Never pressed their lips to mine with such pure, unadulterated hunger.
It was overwhelming.
My head spun, trying desperately to surface from the tidal wave of sensation that had swept me out to sea, but it was impossible.
All I could feel was him—his hands, his mouth, his bare chest. In that moment, he was the only thing that existed. The heat radiating off his body, the friction of his skin, the taste of his kiss were the only things that were real.
And I couldn’t help but want more.
Before I knew it my arms were around him, holding him just as fiercely, just as tight. Clinging to him like my life depended on it, I found myself kissing him back.
It was madness. I knew it. But God help me, I didn’t care.
It didn’t matter that I didn’t know the name of the man kissing me senseless. It didn’t even matter that he clearly made his living through violence or that he’d practically confessed to being a felon just minutes before.
All I knew was, in that moment, it felt like he was saving me.
I’d been treading water for too long, barely making it from one day to the next—merely surviving. I’d forgotten what it was to feel.
But in this one kiss, it all came rushing back to me.
I could feel my blood rushing in my veins. Feel every beat of my heart pounding against my breastbone. Heat swelled up inside my chest before spreading out through the rest of my body—my arms, my legs, my breasts, my…
Oh, damn. Just a few seconds into a single kiss and I was already wet.
The sensitive skin along the inside of my thighs tingled as searing anticipation built up between the crux of my legs. I’d never wanted anything as badly as I wanted him. I’d never been so hungry.
“Please.”
One word—that’s all that came out of me. It was all I could manage…but it was all I needed.
He must have heard the need crackling in my voice. Or maybe he felt it in my trembling lips. The only thing that mattered was he understood what I was begging for.
Without hesitation, his big, capable hands slid down my sides, gathering the fabric of my shirt between his fingers before pulling it above my head.
He made quick work of my bra, too. One second, it was strapped around me; the next, it was undone and flying across the room.
My eyes closed, and my head fell back as he brushed the rough sides of his fingers over my bare breasts on the way down to my pants. I felt the button pop and the zipper release before his palms urgently pressed against the swell of my hips, taking both my pants and my panties down to the floor.
I kicked off my shoes before letting the last of my clothes fall away.
When I looked back up, I found his gaze sweeping me up and down before his eyes finally locked on mine.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice lower and growlier than ever before. “So fucking beautiful.”
Before I could respond, before humility could kick in and joke that he probably said that to all the girls, he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up. I gasped in surprise as my feet left the ground. Instinct made me wrap my legs tight around his waist as he walked me back to the bed. Sitting down, he guided me down into his lap.
My breath hitched, and my eyes widened as I felt him pressing against me, long and thick and hard.
His fingers tangled in my hair as his other arm supported my waist. I licked my lower lip, desperate to kiss him again, but he held me fast.
“Tell me your name,” he demanded.
“Please stop asking me that,” I managed to say—my breath, my voice, all of me shaky. “Just kiss me again. Please, I just want to feel something good. It’s been long since I felt anything good.”
It was a desperate confession, and his eyes darkened hearing it…but he didn’t give in.
“Tell me.” His voice rumbled through me. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not Hollis. Not anyone. I swear it. I just want to know who I’m making love to.”
It was so tempting to believe him. To believe for just a few precious minutes that I was safe. That everything was okay again. That my life wasn’t wrecked beyond saving.
Even though it was nothing more than a desperate fantasy, I couldn’t help grabbing onto it with both hands, like a life raft in a stormy sea.
“Kiera,” I told him—the first time I’d said my real name aloud in a year and a half.
The faintest satisfied smile tilted the corners of his mouth and eyes up.
“I’m Dorian,” he replied as he lifted me up—just enough so I could feel the head of his cock pressing against the opening of my pussy.
He held me there, not saying another word, simply staring into my eyes for a long second. Long enough for me to tremble in anticipation.
Oh God, we were really about to do this. It didn’t matter that it was wrong. It didn’t matter that it might be the worst decision I could possibly make. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t help myself. The need was just too strong.
A primal sound—half moan, half cry—spilled from my lips as he lowered me down. Slowly, my body stretched around him, adjusting to his size, until I had taken him completely inside.
Straddling his legs, my thighs pressed against his, I closed my eyes again, ready to lose myself to sensation.
But Dorian wasn’t about to let that happen.
His grip on the back of my head tightened.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Look at me, Kiera. I won’t let you hide from me. You’re going to know who’s making you moan. Who’s making you come.”
Oh, shit.
I’d never had anyone talk to me that way before in bed. Not ever.
There had been lovers that had tried to talk dirty, sure, but more in a “suck my dick” kind of way, half-heartedly regurgitating lines they’d heard in cheap porn. Certainly, no guy had ever cared if I closed my eyes, whether or not it was to focus on the sensation or to lose myself in a mental fantasy.
This was different.
When I opened my eyes and our gazes locked, a new kind of fire lit up inside me—one that burned so bright that I feared it would consume me completely.
His stare was relentless, unwavering as his hips began to move, grinding himself inside me. My head threatened to fall back as my clit rubbed against the flat plane of his lower abdomen, but I should have known he’d never allow that.
His hold kept me steady, keeping our gazes locked, even as I began to lift myself up to ride him.
I grabbed onto his shoulders, not just for leverage but for the pure pleasure of feeling more of his body against mine. The friction between us was powerful. I could barely breathe sliding up the length of his cock, then back down again.
Yes! This was what I wanted. What I needed.
I could feel my whole body coming back to life like a parched field absorbing the first touch of rain after a long drought. I began to move faster, rolling my hips higher and faster with every stroke, hungry for more.
When my thighs began to burn with exertion, Dorian took over. Keeping me on his lap, he lifted me again and again, keeping the tempo my body craved.
Eventually, it was too much. I crashed against his chest, but still, he kept going, taking me with a passion that I’d only fantasized about.
No one had ever taken me like this. Not so fully. Never so completely.
Not so that I felt like I was the only woman in the world that mattered to him.
Not as if he needed my touch like he needed air. As if I was his only link to life itself.
And I needed him just as much.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I completely surrendered to the moment.
“Yes. Please. It’s so good,” I moaned before kissing him hard.
His whole chest rumbled in response, his strokes becoming more urgent, his grip on me more passionate.
The coil inside my core tightened to its breaking point and finally started to give way. The inner walls of my cunt clenched, squeezing the full length of his cock and trembling around it.
He pulled my head back just enough to see my face.
“Look at me when you come,” he said, a demand I had no trouble complying with. “Say my name.”
“Oh fuck, yes, Dorian.” My voice was so raspy I barely recognized it. “Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” he promised with a growl before buckling hips with a fierceness I didn’t know was possible. “I’ll never stop because you’re mine. You belong to me now.”
His words barely registered because, in the next breath, overwhelming sensation exploded inside me, shattering everything I was into a million glittering shards. My cries of ecstasy echoed off the glass wall in front of me as my back arched.
I’d never come so hard in my life. It went on so long and was so intense that I almost feared I would never catch my breath, never be able to breathe again.
But eventually, the wave of pleasure began to recede, just in time for me to hear him say, “So fucking beautiful.”
Before I could even draw in a full breath, his arms tightened around me, crushing me against his chest. His roar shook the room as his whole body tensed. I shuddered, feeling the raw power rushing through him as he came with his cock buried fully inside me.
I can’t tell you how long we stayed like that, sweaty arms wrapped around each other, gasping for breath. Maybe one minute, maybe two. All I can say is that however long it was, it wasn’t enough.
In that moment, I would have happily stayed in his arms, feeling spent and satisfied forever.
But, as I knew far too well, nothing good could last forever.
When we finally collapsed onto the mattress beneath us, my gaze swept down his magnificent body…stopping on the bandage I’d placed not long ago.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself. “Your stitches.”
Dorian laughed, the first truly lighthearted sound I’d ever heard from him. “It’s okay, Kiera. I’m fine.”
“You said the same thing when you were bleeding out all over your living room.”
I lifted myself up on my knees and quickly pulled back the edges of the bandage to check that we hadn’t aggravated the wound. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t see any fresh blood. All the stitches were still intact.
“You’re lucky I’m such a good doctor,” I joked before remembering that good doctors don’t sleep with their patients.
Neither did any of the poor souls working for Jane…not if they wanted to keep their jobs and avoid the cops.
And just like that, fantasy retreated, and brutal reality came crashing in to take its place.
“I should go,” I said, already sliding over to the side of the bed to stand.
Dorian grabbed my wrist before my feet could hit the floor. “Stay.”
I shook my head, already feeling guilt starting to gnaw at conscience. “You should rest. That was a bad cut, and it’s going to take time to heal.”
“None of that explains why you can’t stay with me.”
“Because…uh…” I fumbled for a reason better than because I already messed everything up by screwing you.
He tugged on my arm, gently bringing me back to his side. “When was the last time you took a day off and rested?”
Not since my sister was killed. It had been eighteen months since I’d even had a decent night’s sleep.
But apparently, he’d already sensed that because he tucked me against him, spooning his body behind mine as he pulled the blankets over us.
“It’s okay, Kiera,” he assured me in a whisper against my ear as I looked out his window over his towering multi-million dollar view of Manhattan. “You can relax. You’re safe with me. You always will be.”
And God help me, for a moment I actually believed him.