The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series)

by S. L. Jennings

  He frowns at me like I have two heads, and I swear I hear a low growl vibrate from his chest. “Don’t ever say that,” he mutters between clenched teeth. His eyes spark with heated electricity. “I would never, ever do that, Gabriella. How many times do I have to tell you? You are everything to me. Maybe that depth of devotion is hard for you to understand being that you still have this silly notion that you are human and need to conform to human standards of commitment. But I absolutely, unconditionally love you. That will never change, little girl.”

  I nearly flinch at his intensity, unable to tear my eyes away from his. I believe him; every fiber of my being believes him. And because I feel that same gravity of devotion for him, I can understand why he made the link. Part of me is glad that he did it. He chose me, not Aurora, not some other equally gorgeous, powerful force. He chose me.

  My mouth curls up into a smile, and a giggle erupts from my lips. “You know, you could have just sent flowers.”

  Dorian matches my jovial expression, stowing his ominous scowl. “No. You don’t want flowers.”

  “You’re right. A six pack then? Nothing says I love you like booze.” I return to my meal, hoping it isn’t too cold. “So what time are we leaving for the hospital?”

  “We?” he scoffs. “We aren’t going anywhere, Gabriella.”

  I sit straight up, no sign of good humor to be found on my face. “Why not?” Dorian shakes his head and chuckles a bit, causing me to grow furious with his amusement at my expense. “That’s bullshit, Dorian and you know it. I’m coming!”

  Before I can blink, Dorian is in my face, only mere inches separating us from contact. His eyes are fiery bright blue, alight with anger and lust. He bares his teeth, a low, guttural growl rumbling his chest. I reflexively recoil in surprise, taking in a sharp breath. Just like that, Dorian’s darkness has crept back in with a vengeance.

  “No,” he seethes between gritted teeth.

  My breath is ragged with anxiety and I know I shouldn’t push him when he’s like this, but my stubbornness overrides my sanity. “Why not? Jared is my friend.”

  “I said no. I cannot protect you and try to…fix his mother at the same time,” he replies stonily. This whole issue has him riled up.

  “I never asked you to protect me; I asked you to protect my friends. I can handle myself. I’m going!” I say with a bit more fervor. I won’t let him intimidate me. He’s trying to scare me into submission. And while I’d love nothing more than to run and cower in a corner, I can’t let him bully me.

  Some fucked up relationship we’ve got, eh?

  “Don’t you get it, Gabriella?” he spews. “This could very well be a trap to lure you. The first place you’re expected to be is the hospital. Don’t let your pride cause you to act recklessly.”

  “But I need to be there! You don’t know Jared like I do. He is my best friend and I-”

  “I. Said. No!” Dorian growls.

  With a huff, I hop down off of my barstool and stalk to my room- the room that Dorian so lovingly decorated for me. But before I can reach the entrance of the hallway, he’s in front of me, blocking my path.

  “Get the hell out of my way, Dorian!”

  His expression is softer, and a smirk is playing at his lips. He enjoys rattling me, making me feel inferior. Pompous asshole prince.

  “Don’t be angry, little girl. It’s for your own good,” he coos.

  “I’m not your little girl,” I retort, my arms folded tightly in front of my chest, my hands balled into hard fists. “And I don’t give a damn what you say. You can try to scare me with your little tricks, but I’m still going. I’m not afraid of you.”

  Dorian stands straight up, his bright eyes transforming into a dark smolder. He cocks his head to one side, as if he is trying to decipher a cryptic message. “You know, there are ways I could make you stay here.”

  My own eyes narrow menacingly. I feel my fists begin to quiver and instinctively squeeze them tighter. Icy cold prickles rouse the rims of my eyes and it feels like they have been touched with dry ice. Hot and cold all at once. Shit. Dorian has pissed me off and I’m about to go ape shit.

  “Careful, little girl. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself,” he says coolly. He’s provoking me, mocking me. It just pushes my rage to the brink of no return.

  “Scared?” I retort through tightly pursed lips.

  “Not at all. But I don’t want to hurt you either. But I will. And I’ll enjoy it.”

  “You wouldn’t,” I hiss.

  This is it. Eventually Dorian and I would not see eye to eye and it would get volatile, no matter how much we love each other. We’re not just two separate sides of a coin; we’re two different currencies completely. I just didn’t expect to go from a pleasant meal to a supernatural showdown.

  Dorian bites his lip stiffly, exhaling sharply. Then he grabs me, flinging me over his shoulder. Before I can even open my mouth to protest, I am on my new bed, laying on my back with Dorian standing over me. I knew it wouldn’t be a fair fight being that he is considerably stronger than me, but I wasn’t going to back down. I won’t let him control me. He might be used to getting his way among his kind but I’m not Dark. He is not my prince.

  “You asked for this,” he mutters. Dorian raises his palm, letting the blue fog envelop it. Then my body completely betrays me.

  “What the hell, Dorian!” I shriek. My arms and legs stretch themselves wide, fusing me to the bed. I have no control over the movements; I can’t even move. He is literally manipulating me with the slightest wave of his hand. “Stop it! Now!”

  Dorian ignores my pleas and makes another slight movement, tearing my shirt into ragged shreds. I try to thrash and fight but resistance is futile. He looks back at my brand new sound system and suddenly it purrs to life, pumping out a seductive, carnal tune.

  What the hell? Now he wants to add mood music to his tirade? Sick bastard.

  I feel the fly of my jeans begin to unzip and I scream with contempt. He’s undressing me. He wants to splay my body on this bed and watch me writhe. My jeans roll down over my legs and drop to the floor, and Dorian licks his lips at the sight. I am completely vulnerable and at his mercy like a helpless lamb. The more I squirm, the wider he grins. It’s maddening, sickening even. Maddening because he is taking advantage of my body and my tragic love for him. Sickening because I am dripping wet and panting with desire.

  Dorian inhales deeply, closing his eyes in ecstasy. “Mmmm. I love it when you fight.”

  “You are fucking crazy, you know that, Dorian? Why are you doing this to me?” I seethe.

  He ghosts to my side, the eerie way he does when he’s in his element. He takes one long finger and lets it glide the length of my jaw. “I haven’t done anything to you, baby. Not yet,” he says with a sinister smile. “But don’t worry. I plan to show you just how fucking crazy I can be.”

  God, he’s so repulsive and terrifying right now. And so damn hot! I look up at him with lust and desperation etched in my face. I don’t know what he plans to do with me, if he plans to do anything at all. I just wish he’d get it over with and put me out of my misery. The look of pleasure and excitement on his face tells me that he wants to make this last. He wants to torture me slowly like the efficient assassin he is. He licks his lips and lets his fingers travel down to my bra-clad breasts. He brushes the swell of my cleavage, causing a moan to betray me. I bite my bottom lip in frustration at my weakness for him, but I can’t help it. I want him. I’ll always want him.

  Reading my body language and my emotions, Dorian murmurs, “You have no idea how bad I want you right now.”

  “Let me go and you can have me,” I pant. Though he already has me now. Secretly, I don’t want him to stop. I want to see how this will play out.

  “I don’t think so, little girl,” he says shaking his head.

  Dorian lets his hands roam freely over the tops of my breasts. His cool touch causes shivers to rack my entire body. He fingers my nipples through the fa
bric, causing them to strain and ache. I gasp, trying to hold onto the last ounce of my resolve. I want to feel his skin against mine, want to feel the prickles that ignite every time he touches me. Yet, he continues to tease me through the cotton bra cups, no matter how fiercely I beg him with my wanting eyes.

  Dorian touches the front clasp of my bra. “Want me to take it off?”

  I bite my tongue, refusing to answer him. Instead I give him a cold, sharp look. He smiles then eases his fingers into it, caressing my bare nipple. I moan appreciatively, and he moves to the next one, rubbing the swell between his fingers. He continues his measured tease until my sighs evolve into moans. Finally he relieves my aching breasts by unclasping my bra, my nipples hardening under his lustful gaze. He dips his head down and samples my hardened nodes, and I cry in pleasure.

  “So you want to play it like that, huh?” Dorian continues to bathe my breasts with his tongue, suckling them gently. He then commences to flick my stiff nipples with his tongue, one at a time, before taking them between his teeth. I moan and pant wildly. It feels too good not to give in. His dark tendrils graze my face as he continues his delicious assault. He smells of clear blue waters and eroticism, and I want to dive head first into both.

  Dorian shifts his body onto the bed and eases between my legs easily without missing a beat. Only the thin cotton of my panties clothes my damp sex and I can feel the bulge of his erection through his pants. Slowly, he begins to grind, still licking and sucking and nibbling. It feels heavenly, and my swollen heat throbs against him.

  “Ooooh,” I sigh.

  His head snaps up, his ice blue eyes boring into warm hazel depths of mine. “What was that, my love? You want me to stop?”

  I shake my head furiously. “No. Don’t stop,” I beg before I can stop myself. “No. Stop. Let me go. I want to touch you.”

  Dorian smiles slyly and shakes his head. He then returns his attention to my swollen mounds and I gratefully sigh. He begins to kiss a path to my belly button, letting his tongue swirl my navel then back up to my breasts. I’m on fire; his touch is like feeling a hundred tongues all at once. I feel his fingers at the waist of my panties as he begins to peel them off. Once I am stripped bare, he abandons me to stand at the foot of the bed. I want to beg him to stay with me, to pleasure me, to fill me, yet he just stands there, gazing down at my nakedness.

  His hand reaches to undo the buttons of his shirt and I finally get a peek at his magnificent body, adorned only by the small tattoo on his side. I want to be free of his restraint so I can feel the smoothness of his chest. I want to kiss my way from his tiny nipples through the rippled valley of his abs down his amazingly sculpted hip muscles. I want to run my tongue down the shaft of his hardness and taste the sweet drops of nectar that tell me that he’s ready too. I want to feel him all over me yet all I can do is devour him with my eyes.

  I pant expectantly once Dorian stands before me gloriously naked yet he makes no move to climb inside of me. Instead he makes a movement with his finger, causing my legs to spread farther apart and bend at the knees. He licks his lips before kneeling onto the bed, eyeing my scorching, wet sex like a hungry lion. Oh no. No! There’s no way I could maintain any sense of composure if he does that. I struggle to move without prevail. I can’t relinquish this kind of control to him. Temporarily paralyzed, spread eagle and completely naked, I lay exposed for Dorian’s enjoyment. Yet, if he tastes my wetness, I will surely surrender to him in every way possible. I would do anything he wanted.

  “No, Dorian, no!” I urge. “Please don’t.”

  Dorian gives me a sexy half-smile. “What is it that you don’t want me to do? This?” And with that, he lowers his mouth down into my blazing heat and takes a slow, laborious lick. I cry out with pleasure and Dorian brings his head back up to gloat.

  “Yes!” I pant. “That. Please. Don’t.”

  Dorian cocks his head to one side and looks at me quizzically. “But what about this?” Again he brings his head down and lets his tongue explore my fleshy folds. His mouth gently sucks and teases while I squirm and sing his praises.

  “Oh. My. God. Dorian,” I say between gasps. “Don’t. No.”

  “See, Gabriella, you’re saying one thing but I know for a fact that you feel differently. Don’t you want it?”

  “Yes! Of course I do, I just…I…I can’t lose control. I won’t,” I stammer.

  Again, Dorian smiles devilishly. He licks his lips, tasting the remnants of my juices. Everything about him is so erotic, so hot. I want him here, between my thighs, sampling my pleasure. But I want to be able to rub his shoulders, grab fistfuls of his hair in my state of euphoria. I’m completely helpless tied up, and that’s exactly how Dorian wants me.

  “I’m sorry, little girl. But you’ve already lost control. You never had it.”

  Dorian buries his face in the apex of my thighs, and I instantly cry his name. His slick tongue dives into every crevice and swell. He’s ravenous; it’s as if he hasn’t eaten in days the way he consumes me. Every time I think he has devoured every ounce of my wetness, a fresh wave greets his hungry lips. It’s so carnal, so salacious and it arouses me to no end. Though his deep, throaty groans are masked by my shrill cries, I know he’s affected too. His hands fly up to finger my nipples, never straying from the rhythm of his firm, wet tongue. The sensation is…magical. Pure pleasure personified. It brings me to my brink, pushing me over the edge and I release a flash flood of sweetness.

  After Dorian has consumed every drop, he sits straight up on his knees. My lust is still glistening on his full lips, and surprisingly, I urge to taste them. Again, hearing my thoughts in the uncanny way that he does, he leans forward and kisses me, letting me sample my own sex. The act is so ridiculously kinky, something I would have never dreamed of doing, yet I relish my flavor. Dorian leans back onto his knees again, his hard erection tapping me on my inner thighs. My eyes widen at the sight of it; it’s beautiful, generous, and perfect in every way.

  “What should I do now, Gabriella? Do you want to feel me?” Dorian says, biting his bottom lip. His eyes are aflame with concentrated sex and desire. He looks every bit like the Greek god that he is.

  “Yes. Hell yes, Dorian!” I groan. I want him so bad. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.

  Dorian shakes his head playfully. “No, no, I don’t think you do. Make me believe it. I need to hear you say it.”

  Why is he doing this to me? I’m lightheaded from panting so much and my skin is sizzling. Can’t he see how hot I am for him? Can’t he feel it?

  “Yes, Dorian, I want you!”

  “I don’t believe you, baby. Scream it.” Dorian’s eyes are suddenly glowing, ablaze with an inferno of hedonism. They illuminate in the dimming sunlight streaming through the cracks of the curtains, revealing the savage Dark One.

  “I want you! Please! I want you inside me!” shouts a desperate, agonized voice that I don’t even recognize.

  With a carnal growl, Dorian rocks into me, filling my depths with his long, probing sex. A garbled cry escapes me, utterly shocked at the jolting impact. His hips rise and fall, thrusting fervently as he grips the sides of my ass, elevating me off the bed. I can feel his fingers digging into my soft flesh, pulling me into him to meet his hard, measured strokes. Farther and farther he delves, each thrust proving to be deeper than the last. They meet every pleasure point, every secret dwelling that provokes my pivotal downfall. My cries are a harsh, expletive, shrill song of praise; his, a chant of torturous restraint and control. Just when I think I cannot take anymore, Dorian’s hand travels down to my swollen clit, and he begins to gently massage, aligning it with the rhythm of his thrusts and the provocative music.

  “Oh God, you feel so good,” I moan. And he does; so good I want to cry.

  “Yeah? Has anyone ever felt this good to you?”

  I shake my head furiously. “No, baby. Never.”

  “I am going to own every part of you. Only me,” he grits. “Tell me no one else
will have you. Tell me I own this.” He stirs my sex, pinching my swell. It’s enough to make me erupt violently, and all coherent thought and speech escape me.

  Dorian digs into my core harder, pressing my button, rubbing my own slickness into the delicate bud. “Tell me I fucking own it!” he growls.

  “Yes- oh God- yes, Dorian! You own it,” I sputter. “All of it. It’s yours.”

  As if hearing my admission flipped some internal switch, Dorian increases the pace and ferocity of his strokes. Every time he slams into me, the Earth shifts a bit. The air around us shimmers and glows. This isn’t natural; this isn’t how sex is supposed to be for ordinary people. But we are anything but ordinary, and even if I were, I wouldn’t want anything other than the sheer animalistic bliss that Dorian delivers. He is all-consuming; I feel him stimulating every part of me all at once. Owning me.

  Dorian squeezes my ass tighter, his fingernails breaking the skin and I feel him begin to quiver his demise. With a strangled groan, he submits into me, and we drift out into the dark waters together. Just my Dorian and me lost at sea, and the monsters within us that feed off our carnality.

  Chapter Eight

  My eyes flutter open only to be met with complete darkness. Where am I? I feel around frantically for any sign of familiarity, realizing that I’m alone in my new bed. I’m disoriented and naked. Shit. What time is it? Where is Dorian? I don’t even remember falling asleep.

  The lights flicker on and I raise my hand to shield my adjusting eyes. I look around me frantically to find the source of light and see Dorian sitting on the chaise lounge. He’s slouching, his elbows resting lazily on his knees, a drastic change from his usual poised stance.

  “Dorian? Is everything ok? Are you alright?” I ask sitting straight up. I think to climb out of bed and go to him but my muscles are still stiff with exhaustion.