Light Shadows, Page 4

  Nikolai brings another grape to his nose before shaking his head. “Smells clean.”

  “Of course, it does.” Dorian unravels a butter knife from a white linen napkin and slices the grape in half. He then plucks a strand of hair from his brother’s head, causing him to protest.

  “What is with you and hair today? Jealous?” Niko jibes, running a hand through his meticulously styled coif. Dorian ignores him and brings the silken, black strand to the open grape. As soon it touches the fruit, it sizzles and pops before igniting into a purple flame.

  “Poison,” Niko fumes. Fury pales his eyes as he stalks to the boy and drags him up by his collar. “This motherfucker tried to poison us?”

  Dorian nods. “Thanatos are known for the eternal sleep. Their magic can manifest poison, the Violet Death. But only they can create it. Someone from Thanatos had to have poisoned the food.”

  “But to give him their magic?” Alexander interjects, disgust and disbelief on his tongue. “To let this…this human ingest their power? He’s useless. He wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

  “But it’s just enough to give him courage. Just enough to make him believe he could carry out his plan and live long enough to report back to whomever sent him. Stupid, stupid boy.” Dorian goes to stand beside his friend and looks down at the boy’s crumpled body. “Gabriella, baby, go ahead and take a nice, long bath. I know you must be exhausted and ready to get out of those clothes.”

  “Huh?” I take a step forward, hand already on my hip. “Why? What are you going to do?”

  “Gabriella, do as he says,” Alexander orders, not bothering to turn and look at me either. What the hell?

  Niko comes over and places a hand on the small of my back just as I ground my teeth so hard that my jaw aches. A rush of peace crawls up my spine, pulling the fight right out of me. “Come on, baby girl. You don’t want to see this.”

  I let Niko usher me to the bedroom where he closes the door behind me. When I’m alone in the vast room draped in black and gold, the coldness of panic begins to seep in as I realize exactly what it is they don’t want me to see: They’re going to kill him.

  I should do something. I should try to save that boy’s life, right? This traitorous, drug-riddled punk kid that came here to poison me and the people I love. That stupid fool who thought he was hot shit with a touch of Dark magic inside him. I should be more insistent on sparing human life because I used to be sorta human. Right?

  I shake off the regret and doubt trying to creep its way into my head and make my way to the en suite bathroom. Still, I’m seething at the way both Dorian and Alex ordered me from the room. I know it was for my own good and they want to spare me, but shit—I’ve seen worse. I’ve experienced worse.

  I am the worst.

  Looking for any way to defy Bossy Dorian, I opt to take a shower instead of a bath. There that’ll show him. I roll my eyes at my own immaturity.

  I turn on the hot water, and warm mist fills the room as I strip off my soiled shirt. It still smells like Dorian, and I smile and let his scent intoxicate me one last time before dropping it to the floor. Hair wild, lips swollen and completely naked, I stand in front of the bathroom vanity mirror and take in the girl—no—the woman staring back at me.

  I want to be strong. I want to be the badass everyone expects me to be. But truth be told, I’m terrified. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and the moment I feel like I have a grasp on reality, the rug is pulled from under me. The Dark tried to kill me. The Light tried to kill me. Now humans? Take a number, assholes. Apparently there’s a line.

  I glare daggers at the odd-eyed girl until the mirror fogs with steam. And long after the air becomes too thick and hot to even breathe, I stand there, wondering if I made the right choice. Hoping that I didn’t destroy whatever future I could have had with Dorian by ascending into both the Light and the Dark.

  I don’t see him when he enters the room, silently shutting the bathroom door behind him. But I feel him. I always do. I feel him in the deepest parts of me, possessing my body like a snake charmer. Coaxing the animal that lies dormant just beneath the surface.

  “What are you doing in here?” I ask, my back still to him.

  I feel cool breath on my neck, chilling the sweat pebbling all over my naked body. “Checking on you.”

  “I thought you had to handle the boy.” I don’t hide the annoyance in my voice. I know it was for my own good, but I don’t appreciate being dismissed.

  “Alexander and Nikolai can take it from here.”

  I finally turn to Dorian to find him naked and so close that my breasts press against the top of his abs. My lips part automatically, but he doesn’t kiss me. He never gives me what I want—just what I need.

  “You want to explain that look earlier?” he deadpans looking down at me, his voice low and sinister.

  “What look?” I slide my hands up onto his shoulders, yet he still doesn’t touch me.

  “Between you and my brother. And don’t lie. I know when you lie, and it will just make it worse for you.”

  Without looking him in the eye, I give him a carefree smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  He kisses me hungrily, angrily, painfully before I even know what's happening. His greedy hands cup my breasts, already so swollen for him, and pinch my nipples hard enough to leave a lingering sting. I yelp into his mouth, and he nips my bottom lip with his teeth.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” he rasps, pulling away just enough to utter the words. He doesn’t even give me a chance to answer before he’s kissing me again, smothering my little whimpers and whines with his lips and tongue.

  Still devouring my resistance, he parts my thighs and cups my sex possessively, as if he's holding a rare jewel in the palm of his hand. Then, without warning or provocation, he sinks two fingers inside of me to the knuckle.

  "What are you doing, Dorian?" I manage to gasp against his demanding lips.

  He looks at me—wild with lust…or fury…or both. I feel myself grow hotter, and a bead of sweat trails its way between my breasts. Dorian doesn’t even think about it. He bends his head and licks the salty droplet, his tongue not stopping until his lips are at my jaw. His voice is gruffer than I have ever heard it, and it frightens and entices me. "Reminding you."

  I blink once...twice...before good sense returns. "Of what?"

  He eases his fingers out slowly, those pale blue eyes lit with passion trained on me, before pushing them back in to the hilt. "Who owns this."

  His face is buried in my neck in the next second and he inhales deeply, breathing me and fingering me all at once. He brings us both to heaven with his deviant acts. I try to swallow my screams as his skillful fingers beckon my orgasm, commanding I come for him, but he won't have it. His other hand fists a handful of my hair and pulls so hard that my head snaps back, ensuring that I can see him and only him.

  "Scream for me."

  I shake my head, scared and embarrassed at what lies just beyond his bedroom door, but he just impales me with his fingers harder, faster. His teeth are on my neck, biting so hard that I swear he's drawn blood. I moan loudly before I can stop myself.

  "Scream."

  I squeeze my eyes tight and shake my head again, refusing to submit, yet letting him continue to torture me. I could push away; I could make him stop. But I don't want to. The Dark in me needs this—craves this. I lust for this side of Dorian just as much as I adore his gentleness and kindness. But right now...right now I don't want gentle. I need his brand of sin to mark me from the inside out.

  As if he’s heard my thoughts, he collects my hands by my wrists and spins me around so I am pressed against the marble counter at the waist. With one hand constricting my arms in front of me and the other still manipulating my sex, Dorian presses his hardness at the seam of my backside, letting me feel his life pulsing between us.

  “I told you, little girl, don’t lie to me. I’ll have to p
unish you. And you know how much I enjoy that.” He parts my legs wider, and I feel the slick head of him at my entrance. I hold my breath, waiting…dying. “Scream for me. Now.”

  Every bit of him is inside of me, touching places that only he can touch. He digs into me relentlessly, grunting out his frustration with every hard stroke. He releases my wrists and roughly grasps both my hips so he can fill me even deeper. I choke on a moan and every part of me quivers with need.

  “Scream!”

  I feel Dorian’s heartbeat radiate throughout my body, his life sustaining mine. Tears roll down my cheeks into the sweat-slicked hair that sticks to my face. I want to cry out. I want to tell him how good he feels.

  I want to scream.

  I’m at the brink of insanity, looking over the edge, preparing to fall. But I want him to come with me. I need Dorian to hold my hand as I plunge head first into boundless bliss.

  “You feel that, baby?” he asks, panting harshly, fighting his own climax. The tempo of his hips increases, pulling at the orgasm pulsing within me. I know he needs this—I know he wants me to let go. And God…I need to. I can’t hold on anymore.

  “Dorian!” I rasp, my voice strained with a sob.

  “Dammit, Gabriella!” His fingernails score the skin on my hips and he swells within my walls, thrusting deeper than he ever has. It hurts so damn bad…so damn good. More tears fall from the pain of him breaching my womb, but I scream out with sheer, immeasurable pleasure.

  We come together—me crying his name over and over, him growling like a vicious, wild beast devouring his prey. It lasts so long that my knees buckle, and Dorian has to hold me up, his arms encircling my body protectively, as we ride out the violent waves of orgasm.

  Exhausted and sore, my head lolls back on his shoulder. Dorian kisses my face and neck softly, tasting the salt of sweat and tears.

  “I love you, little girl,” he whispers, so sweet and tender.

  “I know,” I barely squeak out. I feel so heavy, so helpless. My whole body is under his rule.

  He turns my head so I can see the sincerity in those sparkling blue irises. “And you’re mine, as I am yours. That’s all, Gabriella. There is no one else. Forever.”

  I swallow, ingesting the gravity of his words. “I know.”

  With very little effort, Dorian scoops me up into his arms and carries me into the scalding hot shower. He places me on shaky feet, winding my arms around his neck so he can support my weight while he washes me.

  “You were rough,” I mutter into his chest.

  “Yes. You wanted me to be. And I needed to be.” His tone is level, not at all brusque or cold like I expect. Like it was just minutes before while he ruined me to the point of pain.

  I lift my head to pin him with a scowl. “You wanted to hurt me?”

  “No, Gabriella,” he answers, his soapy hands massaging my back. “I wanted to hurt with you. And I wanted you to feel the way you hurt me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The Dark part of you…the part that craves carnage and hedonism, it needs to be fed. If you let it go hungry, it may consume you. And you may end up looking for other ways to sate your needs.”

  I frown with curiosity. “Like what?”

  Dorian lets his soap-slickened hands travel down to my backside, and gently eases his hand to slide against my crease. “Violence, rage…sex.”

  “Sex? But I have you—”

  “It’s acceptable for our kind to take more than one lover. However, it is not acceptable for me.”

  His fingertips caress my puckered flesh and I instantly go still in his arms, distracting me from his earnest declaration. It’s not something I’ve ever tried with anyone, and I’m not sure if I ever want to venture into the backyard.

  “Relax, baby,” he coos, circling the rim with a single finger. “Trust me. Lay your head down.”

  I do as he says, and he holds me tighter to him, the muscles at his shoulders going tense. He kisses the crown of my head, tucking me under his chin.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs in my hair. He applies a little pressure with the tip of his finger, causing me to jerk, yet he holds me firm against his chest. “Shhhh, it’s ok, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

  “Dorian, what are you—”

  “Breathe me, Gabriella. Take me inside you. And when I do, your body will open to me, just as my power will open to you.”

  “But I…I don’t know how,” I whisper, both afraid and exhilarated to feel Dorian’s magic inside me. He’s given me himself before, as I have given him me. But we’ve never done it like this.

  “Just breathe, baby. Take me. Feel me flowing deep inside of you.”

  Again, I do as he requests, and as the first lungful of Dorian’s magic caresses my senses, I feel the very tip of his finger penetrate my forbidden tightness. I yelp in surprise, and Dorian stills his advance, yet doesn’t retreat. I inhale the base of his neck again, stifling the burn with the sheer bliss of his essence. It doesn’t really hurt, but it feels wrong to have him there, pressing into my most private place.

  I smother my face in the warmth of Dorian’s neck, and we both gasp as I take another draw of his power. Every part of me tingles with sensation, and I moan at how good he feels living inside of me. I’m high on his love, drunk with his magic. So much so, that I don’t even protest when I notice his finger slowly moving in and out of me.

  I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but find myself moaning instead. Arms still wrapped around his neck, I mute my cries of passion by biting into his shoulder. Dorian groans, but answers my violence by slipping his finger in deeper, stretching me, pushing me to my limits. I quiver in his arms, feeling the fiery coils of pleasure snake up my spine. I don’t fight it this time; I don’t even try. As soon as his other hand slides between our slick, naked bodies and presses against my sensitive mound, I fall apart against his chest, pulsating wildly around Dorian’s finger, stunned and baffled at my body’s reaction to the foreign feeling.

  “You did wonderful, baby,” he smiles down at me once I’ve stopped shaking enough to stand up on my own. Dorian laughs.

  “What’s so funny?” I pout.

  Dorian sucks my protruding bottom lip into his mouth, raking his teeth over it. “Maybe you’re more ready than I initially thought. I expected more resistance from you, stubborn girl.”

  I raise a questioning brow. “So you want me to fight?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I just like to make you squirm.” He smiles crookedly, and I feel myself melting into a puddle at his feet.

  “Maybe you just like to control me,” I say playfully, although there’s something solemn in my words. “Maybe you want to ruin me just so you can make me whole again. So I’m completely dependent on you for pleasure…and for pain.”

  Dorian smirks, sex and sin gleaming in his eyes. “Maybe.”

  “I NEED TO go to Paralia and check in with Morgan. She probably thinks I’m laying in a ditch somewhere. Can I borrow your car?”

  “Absolutely not,” Dorian answers brusquely.

  Huh? I yank a t-shirt over my head and cross my arms in front of me, awaiting his answer with more than a touch of attitude. “Well, would you mind giving me a ride?”

  “I’ll take you, but I’m not leaving you there alone.”

  I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated breath. Here we go again. “Dorian, that’s my home. I’m going to be there alone sometimes. Besides, it’s protected, according to you.”

  “Protected from Otherworldlings. Not from humans.”

  What the hell? “Otherworldlings?”

  Dorian takes a deep breath and tosses a black tee on the bed before striding over to me, his worn jeans still unbuttoned and displaying the sexy V of his defined torso. God, his body will never get old to me. I have to pinch myself just to keep from drooling in my lustful trance.

  “Otherworldlings, Gabriella, are those like me. And like you. We are not of the human world. Our kind was birthed long before t
he existence of man.”

  “Got it. Makes sense,” I nod.

  “Paralia is warded from most Otherworldlings, Nikolai and Cyrus being the exception. After what happened today, I’m not taking any more chances.”

  I roll my eyes. “Who’s going to hurt me, Dorian? Will Morgan attack me with a curling iron? Or will five-pound rat-dog Dolce yap me to death?”

  Dorian runs a hand through his still-damp, methodically messy hair, rousing the style into something even more enticing. “Gabriella…”

  “Gabriella nothing. And while we’re on the subject, I don’t appreciate you banishing me to the kiddie table either.”

  He purses his lips, his nostrils flaring with annoyance. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

  “Um, how about, “Gabriella, go take a long, hot bath. You don’t want to see this. The adults are talking.” Seriously? I’m not a child.”

  “Then stop acting like one,” Dorian snaps, his tone so cold I can almost see the condensation of his breath. He scrubs a hand over his face, taking a moment to contemplate his next words. “Gabriella, I lost you once. You died in my arms. I watched as your blood pooled and spilled over onto the floor, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. I don’t want to go through that again. I can’t go through that again.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses both eyelids gently before looking down at me. “You’re my life, little girl. You die, I die with you.”

  “And you won’t. You won’t go through that again, Dorian. You have to trust that I can take care of myself.”

  “I do, Gabriella. It’s the rest of the world I don’t trust.”

  I look up at his earnest expression, seeing all the love I have for him reflected in his eyes. As barbaric and old-fashioned as he can be, I know that all he wants is to keep me safe. And if the tables were turned, I’d be the same way. See, 20-year old, human Gabriella would have stomped her feet until she got her way or defied him behind his back. Older, wiser, ascended Gabriella realizes how lucky she is just to have Dorian in her life. Hell, she’s lucky to even be alive.