Page 89 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
My heart picks up a few extra beats. “But… My hair. My makeup.” He’s spent a fortune on both.
“We’ll be careful, won’t we, West?”
“Most assuredly.”
Dorian takes the bag from my hand, then captures my wrist and draws me into the bedroom.
He sets the bag on the dresser and releases me.
My men move as if they’ve planned this moment, slowly stripping me.
The fabric slides off my shoulders to pool at my feet, and Dorian crouches to pull down my panties.
Moments later, I’m bare under their gaze, nipples hard and trembling.
Brennan presses a kiss to my collarbone, then makes his way down, tracing a path that sends a shiver through me. Dorian’s teeth graze my hip, sharp enough to make me gasp, his hands steadying me as my body weakens.
I’m caught, pinned between them, their mouths worshipping my skin like it’s theirs to possess.
Dorian parts my thighs and slides his fingers inside me—slow, curling, teasing until I gasp and involuntarily tilt my hips toward him.
He watches me, eyes dark and unyielding, drawing out every shudder, but he stops just as I start to unravel, leaving me aching, empty.
Then the confounding man pulls his hand back, licking his fingers clean with a deliberate swipe of his tongue. Desperate, I reach for his jutting cock.
As I touch him, he clamps his hand over mine and shakes his head.
“I fully intend to suffer.” His voice is low and gravelly. “As you will.”
“But—”
He pushes me back onto the bed, and the mattress dips under my weight.
“Dorian—”
Ignoring me, he lowers his head.
The man is relentless—lips and tongue working me over, sucking, teasing, driving me higher until I’m gasping, writhing, clutching the sheets.
As always, I seek out Brennan. He’s standing next to us, his pants unzipped, hand wrapped around his engorged shaft.
His gaze locked on me, he fists himself, motions getting faster as he watches me lose myself in Dorian.
I’m dizzy from the sensuality, lost in the heat of them both.
Brennan groans as he spills his hot ejaculate in sexy ribbons. Then he wipes some of it on me, just below my belly button.
This is too much.
Dorian flicks his tongue once more, pushing me to the edge, and I’m there—right there—trembling, ready. And then…
He pulls back, standing with a wicked, knowing glint. My thighs are slick, my body is shaking, and I’m stunned, delirious, unable to process that he’s leaving me like this, teetering on the brink.
“As I said,” he drawls, raising a brow, “I’m going to suffer.” His voice dips, and he leans toward me. “And so are you.”
I’m panting, staring up at him, my mind a haze of want and disbelief. He’s serious—walking away, leaving me wrecked and unsatisfied. Somehow, it’s worse knowing he’s denying himself too.
“You will find this is worth the wait.”
