Page 12 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim

And in that moment, I fear that I might, that I will, despite everything.

Dorian allows his fingers to delve deeper, exploring my most intimate place with an expertise that leaves me gasping. He knows exactly where to touch, how to touch, stroking and circling, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I try to fight it, to deny the sensations, but it’s futile. My body is responding to him in ways I never imagined possible, in ways that terrify and thrill me simultaneously.

“You’re so wet for me, Isla.” His words are said in a dark, seductive whisper. “Your mouth says one thing, but your body can’t hide the truth.”

He moves his fingers in a rhythm that matches the wild pounding of my heart, stroking and teasing, building a tension inside me that’s almost unbearable. I squirm against his hand, a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations, but it only intensifies the pleasure.

“Please…” I manage to whisper, my voice a broken plea. I don’t know what I’m asking for—for him to continue or to stop and end the torment that’s consuming me.

“Please what, little one?” He stills, being a cruel tease, denying me the release my body craves. “Tell me what you want.”

Biting my lip, I shake my head, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But my hips betray me, arching, seeking his touch.

He chuckles, the dark, victorious sound resonating deep in his chest. “So stubborn, my wife.”

More insistently now, he resumes playing with me, pushing me higher, closer to the edge. He touches his thumb to the sensitive bud at the apex of my thighs, circling, pressing, sending jolts of electricity through me.

My breath is in small, sharp gasps, and my body coils like a spring ready to snap. I can feel it building, a pressure, a need, a desperation. He has me on a precipice, teetering, and I’m terrified of the fall.

“Let go, Isla,” Dorian commands, his voice a rough growl.

And with a final, expert stroke, he sends me tumbling as an orgasm crashes through me.

Then his hand stills, resting possessively between my thighs as I ride out the waves of my first-ever orgasm. My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I can feel the flush spreading across my cheeks, down my neck, across my chest. I’m shaking, my body trembling from the intensity of the release he’s forced from me.

“Such a perfectly obedient little girl.” A terrible, smug smile plays on his lips.

I shake my head vehemently, even as my body clings to his, seeking an anchor in the storm he’s unleashed. “No… I’m not…”

He releases my wrists, and for a moment, I’m frozen, unsure of what to do with my freedom.

Then, to my utter horror, I reach for him, clutching the lapels of his tuxedo, holding on to him as if he’s my lifeline. I hate myself for it, hate the way my body seeks comfort from the man who just ravished me.

A sound on the far side of the room makes me stiffen. I turn my head sharply, my eyes widening in horror as a member of the catering staff pushes a cart into the room through a door hidden behind a panel. Of course, there’d be back of the house access into the space.

The young woman presses her hand to her mouth as she takes in the scene before her—my disheveled state, Dorian’s possessive hold on me.

Dorian doesn’t even blink. With a calmness at odds with the scene that has just passed between us, he shifts his body, shielding me from view. “Out,” he barks, his voice chilled and authoritative.

The woman scurries away, the door clicking shut behind her.

Once we’re alone again, Dorian turns back to me, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Maybe I’ll expose you like that more often in the future.”

“You wouldn’t!” My eyes are on him, searching his face, hoping he’s not serious.

Without responding, he adjusts my panties back into place. Intentionally he brushes against my sensitive flesh, making me squirm once more.

How I despise the way he makes me feel so utterly out of control, a reminder that I now belong to him.

When he finally steps back, giving me some much-needed room, I smooth the front of my gown with my trembling fingers. Then I try to do something with the updo he’s destroyed.

“Leave it.” He says the words as if he’s proud of what he’s done. Then he reaches up, tucking the veil back into place, the delicate, lacy fabric flowing down my back.

“There will be no hiding from me ever again, Isla.” His eyes flash with intensity. “All your secrets belong to me now. And who knows? Maybe I’ll keep you naked, always ready for my touch.”

I glare at him, anger and humiliation battling inside me.

“We need to get back to our guests.” He brushes a piece of lint from his lapel. “And I need to have a few words with your father.”