Page 11 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Making me pay for my horrible words about him being a brute.
But I had no idea.
He’s much, much worse than I imagined.
“See?” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “Your body knows its master.”
Absolutely not.
Thankfully he pulls his hand out from the bodice of my gown, but my breast now aches for his touch.
But he’s not done with me.
Dorian trails his fingers down my ribcage, then lower, his touch lingering on my hip. Deliberately he grabs the hem of my dress and lifts it slowly.
Frantically I try to wiggle, pushing my body off the wall behind me, hoping to use it as leverage.
I might as well try to move a mountain.
Cool air hits my legs, then thighs.
His hand cups my mound, possessive and sure. “All of this—every piece of you—belongs to me.” He’s insistent, his tone thick with desire and dominance.
My body betrays me further. Heat pools between my legs, and a throbbing ache begins to build. I can hear voices at the door, a woman, then the answering rumble of a man’s voice. Brennan, I guess.
But in here, it’s just me and Dorian, locked in this battle of wills, this dance of desire and defiance.
His fingers press against me, rubbing gently through the lace of my panties. I gasp, and my eyes go wide at the sensation. It’s too much, too intense. I’m drowning in him, in the feelings he’s forcing me to confront.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I don’t know what I’m asking for—for him to stop, to continue, to end this torment.
His lips find mine again, softer this time, coaxing rather than demanding. Suddenly it’s as if he’s found the first crack in my armor and intends to shatter me completely.
His tongue slips into my mouth, exploring, tasting. I moan, my body arching into his touch, my resolve crumbling. All the while, he has one hand between my legs.
Moments later, overwhelming me, he ends the kiss and moves his hand from my pussy.
Gently, he strokes his knuckles down the column of my throat.
He’s tender, but I’m reminded of how vulnerable I am. How much power he holds over me.
“You want this,” he growls against my lips, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. “Want me.”
“No.” Frantically, I turn my head away, but he cups my jaw, forcing me to face him.
“Your body is telling me your mouth is lying, little one.” His thumb brushes against my bottom lip, a surprisingly gentle touch that contrasts with his harsh words.
“I’m being honest.”
“Ah. You leave me no option but to prove myself right.”
Once more, he lifts my gown. But this time, instead of keeping his hand outside my panties, he eases his fingers inside the gusset of the tiny scrap of lace. Horror races through me.
“You were saying?” He slides between my folds.
Oh God. No one has ever touched me there. Done…that.
“Yes, little one,” he murmurs against my lips. “Give in to this. Give in to me.”
