She opened her mouth to call for him but thought better of it. No talking, no moving without his permission. It was all part of the game, and Charley loved every sinfully hot minute of it.
A lot of men thought they knew how to dominate a woman, but for them it was all about ego gratification. She’d been disappointed in the bedroom more times than she could count, most notably—and most often—by Travis, the snake.
But a man like Dorian knew how to be real. How to test her boundaries, push her to the edge without ever taking advantage. Submitting to him came easily. His demanding touch and firm commands were like a down payment—a promise that he’d always bring her to sheer bliss.
In return, she trusted him with her body.
With her life.
In so many ways, she was dancing on the razor’s edge between life and death.
And it was sheer fucking ecstasy.
Hot, strong hands gripped her thighs, and Charley yelped. She hadn’t heard him, hadn’t felt his return to the bed. But suddenly he was there, spreading her wide, his mouth descending to her depths.
“You’re beautiful, Charlotte,” he said, and she felt the heat of his words between her thighs. “So fucking gorgeous.”
Dorian licked a path from her clit to her taint, then back again, and everything melted away: her job, the LaPorte painting and Hermes sculpture, the lies she’d told, the risks she’d taken, the attack in the garden, the knowledge of Dorian’s true nature.
All that mattered now was this sexy, dominating man, his tongue lighting a fire deep in her belly, his kiss a drug on which she’d happily overdose.
He brought her close with his mouth—so close she was certain she’d fall—but then he pulled back.
Another slap stung her skin, and Dorian moved up the length of her body, kissing the ridges of her spine, her neck, her ear.
His cock was smooth and stiff between her thighs. She couldn’t help it—she had to move, even if it meant risking punishment. Her hips rocked against the silky sheets, arching toward him, begging him for more.
For all of it.
“Once a bad girl, always a bad girl,” he murmured. “You really shouldn’t disobey me.”
With one hand clamped around her hip, the other around the back of her neck, Dorian thrust inside her.
Holy.
Fucking.
Hell.
Again and again he drove into her, then pulled out slowly, slamming back into her slick heat with a force that only made her want more.
She sighed into the pillow, arching up to bring him in deeper, her body so needy, so hot for him. Beneath her flesh, the sheets felt soft and cool, a delicious contrast to the heat from the muscled force of nature attacking her from behind.
After all Charley’s fantasies, the memories of his touch in the closet, their dirty nighttime phone calls, their interrupted games in the guest house, the wild kiss in the basement… nothing could’ve prepared her for the intense feel of his punishing cock.
Sliding his hand into her hair, he tugged her head back, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I saw you in that penthouse lobby. All I could think about was tying you up in my bed, fucking you so hard and deep you’d bloody well taste it.”
She whimpered beneath him, the commanding, masculine sound of his voice mingling with the devilish words to push her close to the edge again, her entire body wound as tight as a drum.
Charley had never been fucked like this, so raw and primal and perfect. She was on fire, drenched with lust. She wanted to make it last, to remember it, but she was already slipping away, her muscles tensing for the release that was so, so close.
“You want to come,” Dorian said, reaching around her hip to stroke a finger over her clit. “I can feel it.”
“Yes,” she replied, barely conscious. His touch, his words, everything he did turned her into jelly. She wouldn’t be able to hold out another minute, even if he commanded it.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I… I want to come, Mr. Redthorne.”
A groan of pleasure erupted from his chest, and he increased the pressure on her clit, fucking her harder, faster, unrelenting.
“Come for me, Charlotte,” he finally demanded. “Come for me hard.” He slid into her deep, and with a final stinging slap against her ass, Charley came with a force like a hurricane, her cries nearly shattering the windows as Dorian pounded into her, driving himself right over the edge along with her, finally collapsing on top of her with a growl so guttural, so possessive, it would haunt her dreams for decades.
Maybe longer.
For a few minutes, neither of them moved, content in their sticky embrace, their bare flesh cooling, the crickets outside the open window singing them into a state of peace.
Perfection.
Charley’s throat constricted with a knot of unshed tears. She swallowed them down, burying her face in the satin pillow, counting the strong, steady beats of Dorian’s heart against her back.
She hadn’t felt so fucking good—so alive—in years.
For the first time in her life—in the arms of a vampire who’d torn the heart from one of his own kind to protect her—Charley felt safe.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dorian removed her bra and unbound her wrists, caressing each one with kisses so gentle, they felt like butterflies fluttering against her skin. As she slowly turned over onto her back, he took her face between his hands and gazed into her eyes, his own swirling with hidden mysteries Charley had only just begun to explore.
“You’re a goddess, Charlotte D’Amico,” he whispered, brushing another gentle kiss to her mouth. “And you’re mine.”
She nipped at his lower lip, but before she could deepen the kiss, he swept her into his arms and rose from the bed, carrying her into the master bathroom.
His touch was a tender contrast to the fierce, carnal possessiveness that had overtaken him earlier, unlocking something in her heart that probably should’ve stayed buried.
The kind of man who could take her to the edge, test her limits, talk dirty to her all night long, and wake her up with soft cuddles and kisses and breakfast in bed…
She forced away the memory of her earlier thoughts. Nothing about this could end with breakfast in bed. It was a one-time deal, and now that they’d gotten it out of their systems, they needed to move on.
Dorian set her on her feet beside the massive glass shower doors, then reached inside to turn on the dual shower heads, his arm brushing across her back. Between her legs, the evidence of their passion ran down her thighs, a hot slide that had Charley heating up all over again…
Until it dawned on her what that hot slide actually meant.
“Fuck.” She gripped the edge of the vanity top behind her, her stomach twisting. In the crazy heat of the moment, they hadn’t bothered with protection. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“That’s a lot of fucks.” Dorian turned to her, eyes full of concern. “What’s wrong, love?”
“We didn’t use anything.” She shook her head in frustration, warm liquid still dripping down her thighs. “I’m not on the pill, Dorian.”
“Oh, I see.” He ran his thumb across her cheek, a smile touching his lips. “Vampires cannot reproduce. Nor can we transmit the sort of ailments that might otherwise concern you in a situation like this. But if it puts your mind at ease, it’s been quite some time since I’ve… been intimate.”