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DORIAN HAS BARELY CLOSED the door of his Malibu beach house before the ferocity of his kiss bruises my lips.
“I’ve been starving without you, Sunshine.” Dorian breathes against my mouth.
His kisses soak my panties every time. Makes me wonder why I bother wearing them.
“I’ve missed you too.” Covering my mouth again, my confession slips down his throat.
Our kiss feels different this time, the passion is still there, but the desperation is gone. I can only assume he feels as I do; we have all the time in the world. The warmth of his body seeps into me, chasing away any lingering doubts I have about his commitment to us.
It's not long before Dorian lifts me off my feet. Climbing the stairs to the master bedroom, I cling tightly to him. Not because I fear he will drop me, but because I know I have already fallen.
Dorian’s bedroom is bathed in soft flickering candlelight, a stark contrast from the masculinity his bedroom usually exudes. My heart flutters overwhelm by his effort to apologize.
“You didn’t have to do all this for makeup sex.” I tease.
“What I did to you gutted me.” Dorian says, placing my feet firmly on the floor. “I need to apologize for hurting you.”
I wait for him to say the words, but they don’t come. Instead he turns me around so that I’m no longer facing him.
“Besides, I’ve never had makeup sex.” The tone in his voice tells me he’s looking forward to every second of it.
The zipper of my dress slides down my back, followed by Dorian’s lips brushing sensually against my bare skin. The dress falls to the floor, puddling at my feet. I shiver with delight when I feel his tongue sliding under the waistband of my thong. But that’s merely foreplay compared to the uncontrollable shutter my body gives, when Dorian’s teeth graze my ass cheek, pulling my thong down past my hips.
Kneeling behind me, he stands slowly, gliding his tongue up the length of my spine.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Sunshine. I won't ever give you a reason to leave me again.” He whispers against my neck.
I turn to face him, needing to look him in the eye.
“I forgive you.” These aren’t the words I want to say, but they’re the ones he needs to hear.
His arms wrap around my waist, holding me close. I barely hear the ‘thank you’ he murmurs against my lips. The kiss ends too soon, with Dorian stepping away from me.
“I want you in my bed on your back.”
The growl of his command sends a rush of excitement to my heart. But I don’t know what possess me to disobey him.
“And what if I don’t want to go to your bed?” I counter.
Dorian’s smoky eyes dances with the flickering light of the candles, giving me all the feels. I continue with my pretense, knowing the outcome.
“And what if...”
Dorian pulls me to him. His left arm wraps around my waist, bending me over. It’s what he did the first time he spanked me. My heart skips a beat and I remind myself to breathe. I never thought I would view a spanking as anything more than a cruel punishment. Until Dorian.
“Is this what you want, Olivia?”
My thoughts are frantic, desperately fighting to hide my eagerness.
Dorian’s palm lands hard on my right ass cheek, sending deliciously erotic heat to my center. I welcome his fiery palm against my left ass cheek, silently begging for more. Dorian releases me and a disappointing moan escapes my throat.
“Bed, now.” Dorian orders.
I stare up at him, seeing my lover give way to the dominant.
“Or would you like me to withhold your orgasms? Is that what you want, Olivia?”
Dorian repeats his earlier question. Only this time it’s a warning.
“No, Sir.”
Approval curls his lips into a smile that should be labeled flammable.
Warning Panty Melter.
My steps are calculated; slowly I stroll over to the bed. I want Dorian to see my pink ass cheeks swaying, extending an invitation I hope he finds enticing. Climbing onto the bed, I position myself for him.
I don’t have to wait long before he’s fully naked, lying between my legs. His breath warms my inner thighs. Reaching out to him, I stroke his left cheek.
“Tell me again,” he whispers.
Not waiting for an answer, Dorian’s tongue glides over my throbbing clit. Taking my nub deeply into his mouth, he devours me with the hunger of an untamed animal. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, his tongue sinks intimately inside me, sending me tumbling over the edge. Ripple after ripple, I ride the waves of an intense orgasm.
“I’m yours,” I pant breathlessly, repeatedly.
I feel the length of Dorian’s body covering mine. The weight of him is a welcome anchor after his absence. My arms wrap around his back, attempting to pull him closer.
“I’m yours,” he groans.
His erection presses against the folds of my sex, teasing me. I bloom for him, opening fully. His cock slides into my center, stretching me slowly, penetrating me deeply and filling me completely.
Our bodies collide rhythmically, dancing to the harmonic moans and groans of unrestrained passion. The tempo of my heart matches Dorian’s pounding pace, as he composes a symphony with his body. I get lost in the melodic cadence of his voice and the pulse of his cock. My center clenches and unclenches around him, begging for release. I’m close to the edge when one deep thrust pushes me over. Dorian follows, falling with me.
When the alarm clock goes off Monday morning, I find myself snuggling against Dorian, my back to his chest. After reconnecting with him all day yesterday, I couldn’t bring myself to leave him last night. For the past thirty hours we were able to shut the world out, allowing ourselves to get lost in a fantasy, believing no one exists beyond these walls.
Dorian stirs, pulling me closer to him. His lips brush my ear, gently caressing it with his warm breath.
“Time to rise, my sunshine,” he whispers.
Turning to face him, my lips part, seeking his. Kissing this man is something I can never deny myself. His firm but gentle lips exert just the right amount of pressure. I yield to the exploration of his tongue circling mine. Teeth nipping and sucking my bottom lip elicits a deep moan. I don’t know how long we stay in bed, sharing a good morning kiss. But when I pull away to catch my breath, Dorian is as breathless as I am. The gray eyes staring back at me appears less haunted. And I’m convinced it has everything to do with choosing a future with me instead of hiding his past from me.
“Good morning, my gray wolf.” My secret nickname for him, hangs in the air as I hold my breath. I watch his reaction, hoping to see a glimpse of his feeling about the moniker.
“You’ve never called me that before.” Dorian’s voice is hoarse, as if he’s struggling to speak.
“Does it bother you?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard my name spoken like that.” He’s quiet for a moment, as if lost in thought. “My mom called me ‘my little gray wolf.’ Due to my gray eyes and my name of course.”
“Is that where the name Gray Wolff Studio comes from?”
“It is.”
A smile curls my lips, unable to hide the connection I feel with Dorian’s mom.
“You’re not little anymore,” I point out.
Dorian’s eyes dance with excitement, pulling me in with his heated gaze.
“No, I’m not little anymore,” he teases.
“Did your father have a nickname for you?”
“Little wolf or kleiner wolf, the same as Oma and Opa.”
I find myself asking about his extended family when curiosity rears its head.
“Aside from your grandparents, do you have any other family members?”
“My father is survived by two brothers and a sister and they all have large families according to Oma and Opa. They all live throughout Europe, mainly Germany, France and England. Unfortunately, the distance between us was more than geographical after my parents died and even more so after my uncle Peter passed away. Severing ties with them after my emancipation was an impulsive decision made in anger. A decision born from betrayal and distrust. I’m grateful, Oma and Opa wouldn’t allow me to push them away.”
“Do you want to reconnect with them?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve gotten used to being on my own.”
“My parents never gave me the foundation your parents gave you, but I always had my brother Julian and his mom. I was born before my father divorced my brother’s mother. Despite my father’s betrayal Julia loved me as if I were her own. I couldn’t have been loved more by my own mother.”
“I’m happy for you, Sunshine. But your circumstances aren’t the same as mine.”
“I know, my point is we all need someone in our corner, cheering us on. Someone who will love us no matter what.”
Dorian nods in agreement, before climbing out of bed.
“We should get going before we’re late.”
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet hit the floor. Standing, Dorian reaches for me, taking my hand in his. Leading me to the master bath, we shower in silence. I know him well enough to understand he’s processing everything I’ve said.
Dorian is fully dressed when he speaks again.
“Leave your car here. We can ride to the studio together.”
It’s a command, but I hear his unspoken question. ‘Will you stay with me again tonight?’
I’m learning how to handle my lover’s more dominant side. While it’s fun to defy him occasionally, it’s more rewarding to obey. Giving the dominant what he needs, my submission, gives my lover what he needs, his sunshine.
We make our way to the kitchen, where Winston has prepared breakfast for us. I thank him for breakfast and the late-night errand to pick up a change of clothing for me. There was no way I was going to take the walk of shame wearing the black skintight dress I wore to the Asylum. When I agreed to stay Sunday night with Dorian, we both knew I would need street clothes for work Monday morning. Winston was tasked with retrieving them.
Today marks the first time Dorian and I commute to Gray Wolff Studio together. Entering the lobby hand in hand gives me a sense of partnership I haven’t felt before. I know now that whatever comes our way, we will handle it together.
It’s been two weeks since Carina tried reaching out to Dorian and the fact that we haven’t heard from her since is worrisome. There’s no doubt in my mind the letter she sent me was meant to intimidate and scare me off. She has only succeeded in doing the opposite. Pushing us together, instead of tearing us apart. There are no more secrets between Dorian and I, nothing hidden in the darkness for her to exploit. And even if there were, I will stand by Dorian’s side come hell or high water.
Ten hours later the workday has come to an end and I’m eager to see Dorian. Taking the elevator to the thirtieth floor, my level of anticipation rises with it. The reception area is empty when I reach Dorian’s office. With no one to announce me, I tap lightly on the closed door.
“Enter,“ Dorian barks.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I offer, poking my head into his office.
“Olivia.” He breathes, stepping from behind an antique carved mahogany desk. “You didn’t, my sunshine.”
“I came to see if you’re ready to leave.”
“I’ll be here at least two more hours. This conference call with Japan can’t be put off any longer.”
“Would you like some company?”
“I want you to drive back to the beach house and wait for me there.” Dorian offers me the key to his Aston Martin, taking my hand as he pulls me into his arms.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I want you to unwind,” he says, peppering my cheeks with kisses. “Take a bubble bath and relax with a glass of wine. Let me come home to you.”
Kissing him goodbye, I take the fuel I need for the drive alone. His lips against mine ignites a flame, causing the fire between us to burn intensely. Our bodies meld together, refusing to separate. There’s nothing more intoxicating, than a passionate kiss with the one you love.
Dorian groans, breaking our kiss, when the sound of the phone ringing penetrates our ears.
“I have to get back to work.” He says, releasing me.
Rising on my tip toes, I give Dorian a chaste kiss. “I’ll be waiting,” I say before heading to the door.
Behind the wheel of Dorian’s Aston Martin, the drive from Gray Wolff Studio to the beach house zips by. Winston is nowhere in sight when I enter the house from the garage. I’m practically floating as I make my way to the master suite. Dorian’s suggestion becomes more enticing with each step I climb.
But my plans to relax and unwind are completely obliterated by the redhead sitting on Dorian’s bed pointing a gun at me.
“Please come in, Olivia.” Her voice is laced with saccharin, conveying a false welcome.
She stands, waving the gun, urging me to enter.
“Close the door.” With a gun pointed in my face, I do as she commands. “Can I assume you’ve read my letter and you know who I am?”
“You’re Carina Channing.”
“That’s right,” She confirms. “And do you know why I’m here?”
A million possible reason populate my brain at once. To reclaim Dorian as her letter stated, to hurt Dorian or to hurt me.
“No need to guess. I’ll share my plans with you.”
“Whatever you’re planning it won’t work.” I try to hide my fear, but my voice lacks confidence.
Carina laughs, a sound so eerie it scares me more than the gun she holds.
“How do you see this fairytale of yours ending, Olivia? There’s no Prince Charming to give you your happily ever after.”
“It’s a good thing I’m in love with the wicked wolf.” The retort is immediate, without reservation or fear holding back the truth. But using the name she penned in her letter may be my downfall if looks could kill.
“Call him that again and I will shoot you in the fucking head.”
The false sweetness in Carina’s voice is gone, allowing her true nature to emerge. The woman standing before me is callous, manipulative and quite possibly unhinged. I stare into lifeless green eyes, too dark with cruelty.
“It’s time to prepare a welcome for Dorian.” Carina says, tossing a brown paper bag to me.
The bag falls to the floor, dumping the contents at my feet. Carina motions with the gun for me to pick them up. One by one, the sight of each item strikes a blow, rendering me motionless.
“Pick them up.” She sneers.
Imagining what she intends to do with a ball gag, handcuffs and blindfold, has my hands trembling with dread.
“Don’t worry pet, we won’t start the fun until Dorian arrives.”
“You don’t have to do this Carina.” I try to appeal to her humanity, hoping she has even an ounce of kindness in her heart. “You still have time to walk away, before anyone gets hurt.”
“Begging won’t help you. I gave you a warning, you chose to ignore it. Now you can die with the consequences.”
“What are you going to do to Dorian?”
“Your concern for him is touching, but my plans for Dorian is none of your goddamn business. He’s mine.”
In her anger is where she hides her true feelings, and if I’m reading her correctly, she doesn’t intend to harm Dorian. Somehow that knowledge makes me bold and possibly stupid enough to taunt her.
“It doesn’t matter what your plans are for Dorian, he will never be with you again in any way.”
She flinches, letting me know my words have hit a nerve.
“Do you really think sexually abusing a child will ever lead to your happily ever after? That story only ends with unhappiness.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Carina shouts.
Snatching the brown paper bag from my hand, she removes the handcuffs and the ball gag.
“On your knees.” She orders.
I kneel slowly, never taking my eyes off her. To say I don’t trust Carina is an understatement.
“Hands behind your back.”
Metal cuffs circle my right wrist first, followed by the left. With the handcuffs securing my hands behind my back. Carina places the ball gag in my mouth, fastening the leather straps at the back of my head. I watch as she removes the last item from the paper bag, a blindfold. She covers my eyes, robbing me of my sight.
“Now we wait.”
Carina’s voice is made more ominous by the darkness. I would give anything to not have Dorian feel responsible for Carina’s actions. He deserves to be free of the guilt and shame she brought into his life. He deserves better than what she has planned for him.