Page 67 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim

Against my backside, Brennan’s cock grows and thickens.

After turning out the lamp, Dorian climbs onto the bed and wedges himself against me, his hard ass against my belly. He’s a solid wall of muscular mass. Once again, he’s proved himself right. Nothing and no one can protect me from Dorian’s wrath.

Since I’m trapped between them, my body is buzzing, andmy mind is racing. Despite the warm bath, sleep seems impossible.

“If you still have energy…” Dorian has read me perfectly.

“No!”

When I blinkmy eyes open, the room is flooded in golden light.

The rich, dark scent of coffee curls through the air—bitter and roasted, teasing me awake.

Dorian is seated on the bed next to me, his white dress shirt crisp and starched, sleeves rolled back to reveal his strong forearms. His dark hair is damp and perfectly in place. And his jaw is set at a sharp angle.

The man is stunning, and power radiates from him. And since I’m naked, lying sprawled in the bed, I feel overwhelmingly vulnerable.

I’d try to sit up so I can meet him as more of an equal, but he made me strip last night. I refuse to willingly offer him a glimpse of my naked body.

“We need to get going.” His voice is flat and commanding, carrying the same cold edge from last night.

He rakes his gaze over me, lingeringly.

Fighting off nerves, I push my hair back.

With him this close, smelling of spice and his shower, I can hardly string two thoughts together.

“Plane’s being readied, and we need to go to your apartment.”

Before our honeymoon.

Dorian shifts, his weight making the mattress dip. He lifts a steaming mug from the nightstand, the rich coffee scent sharpening in the air. “For you.”

He brought me coffee? I couldn’t be more stunned. Withhis caveman antics last night, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he dragged me out of the bed by my hair to pour a cup for him.

“I took a guess.” He shrugs. “Cream, no sugar.” He angles his head, then goes on. “Obviously you take care of yourself.”

Since he’s seen more of me than anyone else ever has, he’d know. But I don’t acknowledge that to him.

“So I’m guessing you’d skip the sugar. But you’re not into bitterness, so you’d round out the flavor with some cream.”

My breath catches. His observations aren’t far off.

I don’t do a lot of sugar, but I love cream. “Generally I go for a sugar-free creamer. Vanilla. Irish cream. Hazelnut.”Whatever is on sale.“But this morning, I’ll definitely take it.” I’m not sure I’ve ever been this tired in my entire life, and caffeine sounds like a lifeline.

“I want it to be perfect.” He reaches for the beverage.

“No. Seriously.” At this point, I’d drink it black, especially if he wants me to move at something other than a snail’s pace.

“You’ve earned a drink served the way you want it.”

He strides from the room, leaving me frowning.

What the hell kind of game is he playing?

Last night, he’d been a blazing asshole.

And now…