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She turns around and fixes her skirt, followed by the rest of herself. “My name’s Sylvia,” she says to me. I give her a quick head-to-toe scan as I click my belt back on, then walk away from her, leaving her dumbfounded. I don’t care who she is, as long as she gives me what I want. Which she did, of course.
I lean in, bringing my face close to his, and am immediately hit with a smell that’s a blend of sweat, luxe cologne, and my absolute favorite: blood.
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Besides, being alone with her might give me a chance to do the thing I’ve wanted to do since she got here: stake my goddamn claim on her. And yeah, it’s very Neanderthal-like of me to say that, but this is who I am, and Cignette will have to get used to it, whether she likes it or not. Because one thing I know for sure is that she can’t be with Gavin, not after I’ve laid eyes on her.
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He grins, and Christ, it’s so damn full of lunacy that it makes my pulse quicken.
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“You became mine the second our eyes met,” he says. “But if you want that asshole instead, then I gotta know now, because if I find you with him after you’ve told me otherwise, then it won’t end well.” He smirks, and a piercing chill runs down my already cold spine. “Both for you, and for him.”
“So cruel,” he repeats. “Stealing my breath like this; making me question my fucking morals.”
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This man is going to get me brutally killed one of these days, and honestly, I can’t wait to meet my end, especially because I know he’ll be there with me – making me yearn for him, even in death.
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My chest warms against his stare, and my breaths turn shallow as I continue to watch him take me in. “Dorran.” He meets my gaze. “Yeah.” I lean my head against the wall and grin at him. “Show me what I do to you.” He arches a brow. “Is that a command, Little Swan?” I shrug. “Maybe.”
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“This is what you do to me, sweetheart. This is how much I want you; how much I want to ruin you, fucking worship every part of you.”
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And, as embarrassed as I am to admit it, he also helped me take a dump and a few pisses throughout the day.
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Her face… The left side looks slightly purplish, and there’s a bit of swelling there. My hands clench into vise-gripped fists when I see the fresh scar on her right cheek.
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She doesn’t look up as I approach – not even when I fall on my knees in front of her.
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I push my fingers into her slightly damp hair and kiss her harder, but she makes a noise and pulls back, then places her cold fingers over my mouth before saying, “Gently. It…hurts.” She points at the bruise on the left side of her face, and my chest contracts. “Of course.” I attempt at kissing her softly. “I’m sorry,” I breathe, then part her lips before slowly running my tongue along hers.
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“The truth doesn’t have to be convincing, Dorran,” he said. “The truth is the truth. It just is; it doesn’t have to be bounded by anything.”
“Let’s just say I have a soft spot for assholes who talk back,” he answered.
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“Can’t pick a spot?” he muses. “Something like that.” I smile at him, and what he does next – it’s one of the most erotic things he’s done since I’ve known him. Dorran tilts his head to the side, giving me full access to his neck. His muscles flex and shift, and I swallow, restraining the urge to put my lips on him.
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“You trust me enough to put yourself in such a vulnerable position?” I ask him. He straightens his neck and looks up at me. “You could cut me open right now, Cignette, and I’d still trust you – have faith in you to put me back together.”
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Dorran laughs against my lips, then opens them for me and kisses me back in a frenzy.
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“Kiss me while you choke me,” I croak out. “I want you to feel how my breaths stutter for you.”
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“Stay safe, okay?” I whisper. He grins. “Never. But I’ll try for you.”
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Dorran sighs. “I’m sorry,” he tells me, and his crew whip their heads at him like he’s said something forbidden. “What?” He glares at them. “I’m capable of accepting when I messed up, okay?”
Elizabeth *:・゚✧*:・゚ liked this
Whoever says morally grey guys don’t appreciate tranquility and wholesome moments in their lives, is full of shit. Because I’m as grey as grey goes, and I’ve still got a boner as hard as a fucking brick from the brief cheese-talk Cignette and I just had.
“Or what, fuck-face?” Mave challenges. Within seconds, the crew is on their feet. “The fuck did you call him?” Jayce says,
LMAO IM SCREAMING THIS IS SO LAME!!!! NOT THEM GETTING WORKED UP OVER FUCK FACE AS AN INSULT GOODBYE
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We get back to our food, and as Dorran and I fall into a debate about which vintage car is the classiest,
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“My God, you’re beautiful, Little Swan,” I say by way of greeting, and hear Alex sigh in the background.
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“Wear something easily accessible tonight.” “For Colton, or for you?” she sasses with a smirk. A flash of anger cuts through me at her words, and I grit my teeth before glaring at her. “Say that again, Little Swan, and see what happens.”
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“My, my, Little Swan; what’s gotten into you tonight?” he all but purrs. “Dancing with strangers like this, giving them a show of what’s mine.”
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She’s the very definition of perfection – my unholy addiction.
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She straddles me and continues kissing me, bunching my hair up in a painful grip. “God, I wish your dead mother is watching us right now from whatever pit of hell she’s in,” I say, then bite her bottom lip before sucking on it.
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“You…” I swallow, then shake my head a little. “What did you just say?” His laugh is short, menacing. “I’m your daddy, sweet pea,” he confirms, using the endearment mockingly. “Did you really think your mother had a drunken one-night-stand and ended up pregnant with you?” He chuckles. “Cignette, you’re my daughter, not a random elite’s.”
HUH!>!!?!? WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THIS PLOT TWIST?? SHE IS AN INCEST BABY?!???????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY>>>??? WHY WAS THIS A THING? WHAT DID THIS DO TO THE PLOT??!!!!!
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“I fucked my sister to keep our bloodline secure, Cignette. Call it old-fashioned or corrupted, I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and that’s the truth.”
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