The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series)

  “You know, I’ll never forget the smug look on his face. He was so…satisfied with himself as if he had done me a favor. He said to me, ‘See son, a true king always gets what he wants.’” Dorian sucks his teeth, his jaw tight with contempt. “Arrogant fuck.”

  Dorian releases the grip on my arm and massages as if he has just realized he was squeezing it. “After that, I joined the Shadow and buried myself in hunting and killing to fill the massive void that he strived to make even broader. I didn’t see nor speak to my family or Aurora until I was summoned. When they discovered your parents.”

  “Oh Dorian,” I croak. My throat is rough and dry with emotion. I clear it then look up at him with glossy eyes. “I would never do that. Ever. I don’t care what he thinks he knows about me. There is nothing he could give me that I don’t already have in you.”

  Dorian gives me his boyish, dazzling half-grin. He is simply so breathtaking, it literally makes my heart sputter. His smile makes me smile, and I do so widely. I lean forward a bit and gently touch my lips to his. Just a simple gesture to show him that he is not alone, and that my love for him is tender and sincere. He doesn’t want pity. He doesn’t want mourning. And I won’t give him that. I will give him me. I have to fix Dorian, the Dark assassin that I love so much it hurts, just as he has fixed me in my time of need. And there’s only one way I know how.

  I let my hand move from his jawline to his disheveled black hair, grabbing soft handfuls. The other stealthily yet shakily reaches for the hem of his shirt. I slide it upwards, revealing defined cuts of muscle under smooth, olive skin and I gasp at the feel of it. His body truly never ceases to amaze me.

  “I want it off,” I murmur, pulling away from him only to relinquish him of his shirt. I marvel at the sheer splendor before me, struggling to pull my eyes away. God, he’s marvelous. I could literally look at his body all day.

  Hastily, I rejoin our lips, swinging my leg over his lap to straddle him. My tongue explores the sweet softness of his mouth as my hands grip his silky locks with fervor. I could never get enough of kissing him. The taste of his tongue is downright orgasmic. I moan against his lips, enthusiastically feeding my hunger for him.

  Dorian’s hands are on my ass, squeezing, kneading, pulling me into the growing stiffness of his middle. Luckily I am only sheathed in a sleepshirt and panties, giving him easy access to my already tingling erogenous zones. But this is my show; I want to show him how much he is desired and loved. Tonight is not about him giving me yet another earth-shattering, hair-pulling, lip-biting orgasm. Tonight is about pleasing him.

  Reluctantly, I pull my lips away from his only to leave a trail of soft kisses from his lips to his neck. I inhale his mouthwatering scent, all the while grazing the tiny stubble of his chin and throat with my tongue. I kiss a path to his marble-like chest, so smooth and hard to the touch. My lips find his right nipple, where I tease and suck and kiss tenderly. I hear him groan at the sensation, and his compulsory reaction encourages me to continue, moving to his left where I repeat the routine. His sighs develop into low hisses, and I know he is affected. He is aroused, and hearing him so exposed, so vulnerable, causes the flame between my thighs to erupt into a raging combustion.

  “Shit, Gabriella,” Dorian moans, motivating me to repeat my slow, torturous attack.

  My hands find the fly of his jeans, and I eagerly unfasten the top button and unzip them, unveiling the strained bulge constricted in denim. It feels so strong and vital, I just want it to live inside me. My hungry mouth leaves his skin so I can focus on the task of unleashing the pulsing, raging monster begging to be freed. I maneuver his jeans down to his ankles, where he aides me in my efforts by hurriedly kicking them off. I take in the magnificent man before me clad only in dark boxer briefs. As much as I want to just capture this moment and commit it to memory, I want him. And a simple eye-fuck will just not do.

  I tug at the waist of his underwear, eager to discover just how deep his desire goes. As always, he doesn’t disappoint. Dorian gives me a front row viewing of his rock-hard length, causing my eyes to grow wide with delight. Impulsively, I lower my mouth to it, kissing the tip gently. I can hear a surprised breath catch in Dorian’s throat. He wants this, and so do I. And I give it to him, hungrily devouring his beautiful hardness with vigor.

  Deep, baritone moans harmonize with the music, creating a melodic symphony of sex. Despite his pleas to slow my pace and show him mercy, I continue my oral assault, relishing in the involuntary trembles of his legs. I challenge myself to take him deeper and deeper into my mouth, wanting to taste every inch of him. Not because I have to, but because I want to. Pleasing him is all the motivation I need.

  Dorian’s light trembles transform into jerking quivers and I know the end is near for him. Yet I don’t let up; I continue this delectable torture until I feel his intense shudders cease when he releases his sweet sap. I consume every bit of him before looking up at his sated expression through hooded eyes. He is completely bewildered at my spontaneity and I mentally pat myself on the back for being able to thoroughly blow his mind.

  With my eyes still fixed on Dorian’s staggered, beautiful face, I pull my sleepshirt up over my head, exposing my full, perky mounds and satin panties. He bites his lip, eager to put his mouth on me but reigning in his usual plan of attack. He wants me to take the lead, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.

  I make a show of slipping my panties off, my eyes never leaving his as I bite my bottom lip in seductive verve. With a catlike slink, I make my way to him so our faces are just centimeters apart and I am hovering over his still-hardened rod. I tease him, lowering myself so that his impressive length just barely grazes my flesh then pulling away. It’s torturous for me too, but I love seeing Dorian so eager and ready to feel me.

  Finally I give in, easing myself down onto him with a garbled moan. How can he feel this good? How can it still surprise me? This type of pleasure shouldn’t even be legal.

  Dorian fills every deep cavernous space with authority as I rock back and forth onto him. We become one, an all-consuming tangle of moans, kisses and sighs. I keep with the rhythm of the music, careful not to go too far into shaky ground, though I want to so, so bad. I’ve wanted this, dreamt of this for too long. I want to release this flood of passion onto him but I know it will completely unravel me, surrendering the control that I now possess in this moment. I want to prove that I crave only him, I love only him. I want Dorian to feel it emanating from me. I not only want him to live within my soft, warm dwellings, I want him to own it entirely, just as he owns my heart.

  I lean forward, bringing our faces together again, aligning our eyes so that he can clearly see the immense desire burning within them.

  “Don’t,” Dorian whispers urgently. “You shouldn’t do it.”

  I grind my flesh onto him even further, causing him to groan mangled expletives through clenched teeth. “But I want to,” I whisper. “I’ll be ok. I promise.”

  And before Dorian can object any further, I channel every ounce of passion, strength and love within my heart and soul, and yield it to him. All of it. I give him me. I let him feel, smell, hear, see, and taste all the ways I love him. And with a sharp huff of air, Dorian receives me, bringing him to his momentous brink, and taking me along with him down his journey into euphoria.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Take the day off. Rest. I don’t want you to feel weak or disoriented.”

  “Dorian, I am perfectly fine. I feel good, really,” I respond, applying my mascara in the vanity mirror of my bathroom draped in a terry-cloth robe. Dorian’s hips are wrapped only in a fluffy white towel, showcasing his hard, taut body, making it impossible to focus on the task at hand. I’ve already nearly poked my eye out twice.

  Running his hand through his messy, damp locks, Dorian twists his lips to one side, making him look unbelievably cute and boyish. “I don’t know, Gabs. It worries me to have you out there right after you’ve used. The exchange of power between two forces i
s extremely draining. Especially for you. I loved it- hell, it was incredible- but you shouldn’t have done it.”

  I spin around, completely taken aback by his comment. “What did you just say?”

  “Uh, it worries me to have you out after you’ve used and you shouldn’t have done it?” he recalls with a raised eyebrow.

  I shake my head, cocking my head to one side. “No. What did you call me?”

  “Oh, yeah. Gabs,” he smiles sheepishly.

  I smile back at my beautifully buoyant lover, relishing in our lighthearted banter after weeks of distress. Tammy is healed, his father is gone, and there has been no sign of my paranormal stalker. For now, all is right in the world.

  “You’ve never called me that before. My friends are the only ones that call me that,” I remark, returning my attention to applying my light makeup.

  “Am I not your friend?”

  I put down my eyeliner and gaze at Dorian’s reflection in the mirror. “I’d say you are much more than that.”

  Dorian closes the distance between us and places his hands around my waist from behind. “But we’re friends. That’s one of the things I love about you. Even if there was nothing sexual between us, even if I didn’t love you as deeply as I do, I’d still like you.”

  He turns my body around to face him, guiding me by my hips. I gaze into his bright blue, twinkling eyes, noticing how youthful and carefree he appears. “I’ve never had that with any woman, and it is seriously blowing my mind. I don’t just like holding you, feeling you, making you come until you cry… I like talking to you. Knowing you.”

  I fight the urge to burst into a fit of girlish giggles and settle for a sweet, tender kiss instead. I like Dorian too. Besides Jared, he’s the only other guy that I’ve opened up to. I’ve peeled back all my complicated layers and revealed the scared, stubborn, crass girl that I really am. I’ve let myself feel with him. And the fact that even after he’s learned all those things about me, bullshit and baggage included, and still wants me, reconfirms my decision. I will love Dorian until the day I die. And even if that day is tomorrow, I will fight for this love- for him- because he is worth it.

  “Well, other than just being a cool ass chick, I know exactly why you like me.” I press my lips against his for a quick peck before turning back around to finish primping. “I am my father’s daughter, Dorian. Maybe you see a piece of Alexander in me. You miss him.”

  Dorian takes a step back, visibly shaken by my observation. Oh shit. I guess I can add ‘tactless’ to my list of attributes. Yet, he’s not angry or saddened by the memory of my deceased father and his best friend. He’s thoughtful, surprised.

  Finally, he nods, and flashes his ridiculously sexy half-smile. “I do. I miss him. And I guess you do favor him in some ways.”

  I move into the bedroom to dress. Though I’m not ready to leave him, I have to be at Cashmere in thirty minutes to open. “Tell me about him,” I say with a gentle smile. I know that revisiting this part of Dorian’s past could potentially hurt him.

  He flops onto the bed and sighs, looking up toward the ceiling as if he is recalling a distant memory. “I have to admit, at first Alex hated me. Being the spoiled, entitled eldest son of the king, I thought I could flex my so-called authority even after I joined the Shadow. I was wrong. We were all equal, all brothers. Alex quickly kicked my ass and I never forgot it.”

  What? My dad kicked Dorian’s ass? How is that even possible? Dorian is invincible. No one could physically hurt him. At least I couldn’t.

  “He taught me the ropes, whipped me into shape. He wasn’t much older than I was, yet he was so much more grounded, humbled. Disciplined. Being that he was the illegitimate son of a nobleman, he had to work for what he achieved. He knew what it meant to be a man. And he taught me more about that than even my own father.”

  I slip on my modest red floral shirtdress, accenting it with a tan belt, all the while beaming with pride at the thought of my father having a positive impact on Dorian, the man that I love. To know that he helped shape and mold the compassionate, decent Dark One that stands before me today makes me feel somewhat close to him. And proud to be his daughter.

  “My father’s family…you said their name last night. What was it again?”

  Dorian nods. “Polemos.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, slipping into my wedge sandals.

  Dorian is still sprawled out on the bed, only a towel covering his tantalizing nether regions. He seems so comfortable in his skin, so self-assured. He looks at me, his eyes filled with nostalgia. “War. He was a great warrior. All the Polemos are.”

  War. He was a fighter, just like me. And my mother was a bad ass in her own right. Now it all makes sense. Learning about my parents is more than just an education. I am learning about me, the girl I never really knew. The girl that was spelled to appear mundane and insignificant.

  Dorian tugs at the hem of my dress like a child trying to summon his mother. “Don’t go,” he whines playfully. “If you stay, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “You’ll tell me anyway. Besides, the boutique can’t run itself. Can’t make you much money if I close up shop every time you want to play hooky, boss man.”

  Dorian shrugs. “What do I care? I have no need for any of it.”

  “Then why do you own all this?” I say waving my hand around the room to indicate the luxury apartment complex. “You have all these businesses but you don’t care?”

  My spirited lover laughs heartily, even going as far as to throw his head back with glee. “I thought you would have figured it out! It’s all a front, all constructed to lure you. I present a convenience so you never have the need to look elsewhere.”

  “What the hell?” I shriek, placing my hands on my hips.

  Dorian lifts his palms in feigned defense. “Calm down, killer. It was for your own good. I had to ensure I kept you near. To protect you. And I wanted to make you happy, honestly. I want to give you everything you could ever want and need. I’m extremely wealthy, Gabriella. Every business I’ve acquired has been for you. It’s all for you.”

  His heartfelt admission successfully stops me up short, causing me to release my tightly clenched fists. “Oh. So what…you want me to be a kept woman?” Barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen comes to mind if only I could cook…or even conceive children.

  “Not at all. You would never allow it anyway. I get the feeling you have an aversion to authority, not to mention your inability to relinquish even an ounce of control.”

  “Damn right!” I smile.

  “Plus, I like your spunk. Your independence. Your refusal to take any of my shit. And I like that you make me feel young. Free. You are sincere and real. My entire life I’ve been surrounded by women who felt like they hit the jackpot as soon as they met me. They were ready to let me walk all over them just as long as they could say that they were connected to me somehow. And I did just that. I’d get what I wanted and move on without a second thought. But women like that bore me. I like a challenge,” he winks.

  “I hardly think I was much of a challenge, Dorian. I showed up at your hotel room, remember?”

  “But you knew what you wanted. And it wasn’t money or status or even the exterior. There was something else there. Other than you being so horny you nearly came the first time I touched you,” he chuckles.

  What the hell? What’s gotten into him?

  Oh. Me, of course. Just as Aurora emitted her lustful desires into him, Dorian has received my good-humored crudeness. Just like the first time I transferred my amorous feelings into him. The next day he was different- witty and teasing. Sheesh, so I guess my tacky sense of humor is my superpower.

  “Well, sorry, I hadn’t been around the block as many times as you, old wise prince,” I jibe. “Besides, you don’t fight fair!”

  “I never said I did, little girl. Now… about you going to work. You might as well undress and get back in this bed with me or I’ll be forced to be very undipl
omatic with your body. Again. And this time, I’ll make it hurt.”

  My eyes grow wide with shock and excitement at the memory of Dorian completely immobilizing me and manipulating each of my pleasure points. And as much as it scares me to admit it, the prospect of seeing him in his darkness, unleashing the vicious beast inside of him that completely shatters every ounce of my resolve, arouses me.

  “No! I really have to go to work! Carmen will be waiting outside!” I plead. “Why don’t you just come with me? And if you see that I’m weak or moody, we’ll come straight home. I promise.”

  Dorian smiles and nods at the idea. “Home,” he murmurs thoughtfully. He sighs then stands to his feet, letting the towel around his waist drop to the floor. His impressive semi-hard length instantly makes my mouth salivate. “Like what you see?”

  “I do. But I’ve got to get to work, Mr. Skotos. My boss can be a real hard-on,” I giggle. “Now get dressed so you can see your hard-earned money at work.”

  We opt to walk the few minutes to Cashmere to enjoy the bright, warm sunshine. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and I instantly lift my head to let the sun’s rays kiss my face. Ahhh. It feels divine. Almost as good as Dorian’s kisses.

  “You channel the sun,” Dorian notes, as I skip ahead, swinging my arms like an actress in a ridiculously cheesy tampon commercial.

  “Huh?” I ask, spinning around to gauge Dorian’s beautiful face. He looks stylish and dangerously sexy as always, dressed in linen pants and a crisp button up shirt rolled up to his elbows.

  “You feel rejuvenated in sunlight, right? Stronger?” He awaits my baffled expression. “Hmmm, maybe you are more Light than Dark,” he remarks with a smirk.

  He’s right. The sun does put me in good spirits. But I thought everyone had that reaction when it was sunny versus rainy and gloomy. “True,” I respond. “You don’t feel that way?”