The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series)

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The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series) Page 21

by S. L. Jennings


  “Come with me, baby,” he urges, his brow furrowed.

  Glints of spectacular blues, reds and greens pop and sizzle overhead, crackling, glittering, raining sparks down upon us. Fireworks. Two remarkable forces of nature colliding. Breath blissfully ragged, limbs tangled and weak. Delightfully shattered as we float back down to Earth from our orgasm-induced high.

  This all-consuming, inexplicable pleasure dispels reality yet transcends my most intimate fantasies. Fantasies I didn’t even know inhabited my subconscious until I met him. Dorian. For he is my fantasy. And he is all mine.

  ***

  “Does it hurt?” Dorian asks, his gloriously nude body lying on his side atop of the comforter. We are back in the suite, having had to abandon our paradise.

  I shake my head before resting my cheek on top of my crossed forearms, lying on my stomach while Dorian traces the scabbing outline of my tattoo. “No, not really. Just a little sore. Itches more than anything.”

  “What I wouldn’t give to take away your discomfort.” For a moment he looks somber, even a bit pained at his inability to heal. I reach out and stroke his cheek, offering my essence to him. Dorian quickly indulges in my scent then gives me a dazzling half-smile. “I really wish you would have let me do it. There would have been no healing process. Plus I don’t like another man’s hands on you. I was tempted to kill him out of sheer jealousy. I’ve never felt so irrational before.”

  Dorian jealous? Now that’s a thought! “It was totally innocent and I covered up as best as I could. And what do you mean, ‘let you do it’?”

  “Little girl, I am a man of many talents. I believe I have proven that abundantly,” he smirks. I giggle at his racy insinuation and shake my head. “It isn’t difficult. It would be my honor to mark you. It would truly be the best birthday gift I could ever receive.”

  “Dorian, it’s your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  My beautiful lover shrugs and leans over to kiss my bare back, his cool lips easing the healing flesh. “After a century or so, you don’t even bother to acknowledge it. But being here with you has already been more than enough, so I can understand if you are reluctant to let me.” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice but I can’t see his face to assess the source.

  “Wait. First off, of course, I want to know it’s your birthday. We could have celebrated or something! And I would have bought you gifts. Geez, Dorian, now I feel like an ass.” I roll over to my side so I can gauge his reaction. “And what do you mean by mark me?”

  “I can mark you, Gabriella. Much like the mark I wear but of course I would never bestow that curse on you.” Dorian lets his fingers dance in the loose curls cascading over my shoulder and down to my breast. “Our kind has the ability to mark others as a sign of deep devotion and commitment. And love. Just something to show that you are mine. Forever.”

  “Geez, sounds a lot like getting married.” Dorian’s eyes are suddenly wide with shock and horror and I instantly regret even thinking the words. “Not that I want to get married, of course,” I say hurriedly trying to erase the unease from his expression. “Tell me about this mark. Like, will regular people see it or just people like us?”

  “It depends. Do you want everyone to see it?”

  I think back to when I was reluctant to show the employees at Cashmere that we were together and the look on his face every time I pulled my hand away in public. It angered him, though part of me feels it hurt him more than anything else. He’s been rejected his entire life by his own father. Centuries of feeling like a disappointment, an outcast. I want to prove to him that this is where he belongs. With me.

  “Yes, I do,” I nod, smiling. “I’d like that. You’re not gonna scrawl your name on me or something, right?” Crap. Maybe I should have asked that before I agreed.

  “No, not unless you want me to. I can give you anything you want.” Dorian scoots forward, closing the small distance between our bodies. “Once you ascend, it’s very possible that you will be marked. Whether that is the mark of the Dark, or something else entirely, I want to be etched in you first. I want you to see it every day and let it remind you of the immense love I have for you, little girl. Because there will be a time where I may not be around to tell you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  I slowly nod though I am unable to fathom having to live without Dorian. I know better than to ask further questions, questions that could reveal the truth that we are both trying to conceal in order to save our lives.

  “I’ll do it. But only if you do it too.” I want Dorian to be mine just as much as he wants me to be his. I want him to know that my love is with him always, in this life and the next.

  Dorian perks into a sly smile. “So what did you have in mind?”

  I bite my bottom lip and shift my eyes towards the ceiling as I try to imagine a symbol of our complicated love. Our need for each other, the hunger to constantly be in one another’s presence is so intense, it’s as if there is some unseen magnetic pull that keeps us conjoined. I can’t even describe it; it goes beyond all things natural and logical.

  “Anchors.” When Dorian gives me a perplexed raise of his eyebrow, I continue. “I’ve always felt that we were anchored to each other in some uncanny way. No matter how we try to deny it, we can’t fight the impulse. And I know it’s more than some deep-seated, ancient attraction between the Light and the Dark. I need you.” I look down, a bit embarrassed at my earnest admission but it’s the truth. “Plus I think it’s fitting considering the meaning of your name.”

  I feel a single cool finger on my chin, pulling my face up. Dorian’s glittering baby blues meld with my hazels and his delicious lips spread into a broad smile. “I love it. And I feel the same way; I need you too. Whenever we’re apart, all I can think about is holding you again. How I would give anything to be in your presence, even if it could very well kill me. We are anchored, little girl. We were made this way, made for each other. This is our destiny.”

  I try to stifle the swell of joyous emotion that tightens my throat. I honestly don’t know what I have done to deserve the amazing creature lying beside me. Dorian is my destiny. Even with my impending ascension and the assassin trying to snuff me out, I feel so fortunate because I have him. If it weren’t for my parents’ unshakable love for each other, if it weren’t for Dorian’s defiance of his father, we would not be here now. It was destiny that Dorian was sent to kill me. Destiny that kept me uncertain of who I was and what I was meant for. Everything happens for a reason.

  “So little girl, where should we place them?” he asks with a bright smile. Dorian looks so youthful and exuberant.

  “Why don’t you choose? I’m only good for one awesome idea a day,” I jibe.

  Dorian cocks his head to one side and runs a hand through his already disheveled after-sex hair. Geez, if he gets any hotter, I’ll spontaneously combust!

  “Right here,” he says pointing to the spot below his thumb, right before the back of his hand meets his palm. “That way, whenever our fingers are intertwined, our anchors will be side by side. Forever anchored to the other.”

  I break into an amorous smile and nod, offering my right hand. I can hardly wait to wear Dorian’s mark, to literally have him engraved in me forever. He takes my hand and kisses every knuckle sweetly. Then in an inconceivably swift movement, he’s sitting upright, still holding my hand with his left. He holds up his right index finger and suddenly it is alight with electric blue flames. I am instantly captivated by it, unable to look away. Dorian’s magic completely enthralls me.

  “Be still, little girl. It won’t hurt much but it may be a little jolting,” he says.

  “Have you done this before?” I ask meekly.

  Dorian cocks his head to one side before shaking his head, a sexy grin playing at his lips. “No. I have never wanted to mark anyone. Just like you are the first I have ever linked my life to. These acts are incredibly rare for my kind.”

  A frown creeps onto my face. “Why?”
I sit up as well, my long waves dangling at my breasts.

  “We don’t love easily. You can imagine how difficult it is for us to commit our lives to merely one person, to give and love unselfishly. I never thought I could, honestly. I never had any interest in that level of commitment. But then I found you…” he trails off, lost in his own memory. “You have permanently altered me. Two and a half centuries and it takes a twenty year old girl to change my life.” He shakes his head, smiling disbelievingly.

  His words, so earnest and heartfelt, spark the intrusion of doubt unexpectedly. If I were just an ordinary girl, not an immortal magical being, not expected to be the most powerful force ever created, would he still want me? Would he love me if I were human? Are we only anchored by our love? Is it actually me, Gabriella, that he desires, or is it the Dark Light?

  Dorian reads the anxiety on my face and his brow furrows. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he mutters.

  I try to mask my unease with a smile and nod. “No, I’m ready. Mark me, baby,” I wink.

  Amused by my playful banter, Dorian brings my hand up, turning it gently to the side. I hold my breath as he carefully lowers his ignited finger to my creamy skin. It initially shocks me and I struggle to maintain my composure. It doesn’t hurt yet it isn’t exactly pleasant either. It is…jolting, like he said. The sensation can only be best described as burning cold.

  Dorian concentrates on making even, level strokes with his finger against my skin. His touch leaves behind visible bluish ink etched deeply into my flesh. When he is finished a mere few seconds later, a small dark blue anchor no larger than a quarter rests on my right hand. It’s simple, beautiful and profound. Perfect.

  “Do you like it?” Dorian asks, almost timidly. I finish assessing my new piece of artwork before launching myself into his arms and joining his mouth with mine. It’s virtually painless and I let both my hands roam his hard bare back and shoulders passionately. Dorian cups the soft flesh of my backside in response and I instantly feel his manhood awaken.

  I pull away, smiling brightly at my beautiful lover. “I love it. And thank you for letting me spend your birthday with you.”

  After Dorian has marked his own hand, he joins it with my right, intertwining our fingers. Our twin anchors are identical in every way and I am overjoyed at the prospect of carrying a piece of Dorian with me for the rest of my life, though he has shown that he is dreadfully opposed to more conventional shows of commitment. I frown at the memory.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks me, noting the aggravation on my face. Shit, I really need to learn to control my emotions. I shake my head, not wanting to ruin the moment, or his birthday. My trivial girl worries will have to wait.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be shy. You know I’ll find out one way or another.”

  Again I just shake my head, not wanting to delve into the murkiness in my mind. Live in the moment, Gabs.

  Dorian reaches out and strokes my cheek gently. “Please, little girl. Tell me,” he whispers.

  The sentiment and yearning in his voice catches me off guard and I look up at him, startled. So much emotion that I can’t even begin to comprehend washes over him. What happened to keeping things light and casual? His intensity is staggering.

  I take a deep breath and look down at my hands, resting on my naked thighs. “When I mentioned marriage, you looked like you were horrified, disgusted at the idea. I’m not saying that’s what I want. I’ve never even put much thought into it. But it just kinda caught me off guard, how upset you looked. Like you could never imagine marrying someone like me.”

  There. I said it. When Dorian doesn’t respond, I take the liberty to finish my sullen thoughts while I still have the courage. “It’s probably for the best anyway. No one will ever want to marry me, considering what I am. Especially since I can’t have children.”

  I shrug, hoping to make light of the situation and convince myself that I’m alright, that I’m only imagining the aching in my tight chest. When I finally will myself to look back up to meet Dorian’s eyes, I see that his expression is one of anguish and sorrow. Shit. I must’ve hit the nail right on the head. That or he feels sorry for me, the pitiful little girl who sits stripped and naked before him. Either conclusion is unbearable.

  Dorian swallows then looks down as he formulates the most tactful way to confirm my fears. When his eyes meet mine, there is something in them. Regret. But why? “Gabriella, I could never marry you.”

  Ouch. Though I expected that reaction, I can’t halt the debilitating ache radiating in my chest, making its way up to my throat in the form of an agonized knot. I try to steady my breathing, trying to reel my emotions in, but I can’t mask the pain that I know is surely engraved on my now pale face. I turn my head to look away, too pained and afraid to look this truth in its ugly face.

  “I wouldn’t do that to you,” he continues, shaking his head. “I would love nothing more than to spend my life with you. You know that. But marrying you is something else entirely. For my kind, that is.”

  “Is it?” I whisper, my throat tight and raw.

  Dorian nods solemnly. “I am in succession to the throne. One day I will be king, if I live to see that day. Marrying you will make you queen. It will completely thrust you into the Dark. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. You deserve a normal life. You deserve a choice.”

  Huh? A life without Dorian? That’s not a choice; that’s a death sentence.

  “Then why did you make me think we’d be together forever? If you wanted me to lead a normal life? You want me to choose someone else?”

  “I don’t want it, but it’s not fair of me to expect you to settle for this,” he says with a wave of his hand. “For me.” Settle for Dorian? He thinks I’m settling? What the hell? “And I will always be with you. Even if it’s merely watching you in the shadows. I have no choice in the matter. I am completely addicted to you.”

  “So this has nothing to do with me not being enough for you? Enough to sustain you?” I look back down at my hands. “And not being able to give you children?”

  “Absolutely not!” he suddenly shouts, causing my head to snap back up to gauge his furious expression. “Stop saying that! You are enough, Gabriella! I know you can’t conceive; I’ve always known. And I don’t care. You are all I want, do you understand me? You and only you!”

  Dorian’s passionate declaration causes tears to prick the rims of my eyes. I blink furiously trying to dismiss them, yet one solitary hot tear escapes and slides down my cheek. I look up at him through glassy eyes, too overwrought with emotion to say anything in response in fear that more tears will quickly follow. Seeing me desperately trying to maintain my composure, Dorian pulls me into his arms, burying my face into his chest as he strokes my hair. I breathe in the freshness of his skin and let the euphoric scent soothe my aching heart.

  “You are enough, little girl. You are everything,” he whispers into the crown of my head. And I cry silent tears into the warmth of his smooth, bare chest.

  Chapter Fifteen

  With the falling of the first leaves of autumn, I fall deeper into the life that was set out for me, deeper into my destiny. With Dorian. Things have been oddly normal, a feeling I used to despise about my once mundane life. But now it’s something that I crave, something that I haven’t felt since I was nineteen. I have finally begun to accept that this is my new normal. My life will never go back to the ordinary charade it once was. Not to mention, waking up to the mouthwatering supernatural being beside me is anything but ordinary.

  “Good morning, beautiful girl,” Dorian murmurs in my hair. His eyes are still closed and his body is tangled with mine in a tight embrace.

  “Good morning. Sleep well?”

  “Mmmm, I’m not sure I’m done sleeping yet. I was having the most magnificent dream.”

  “Oh? About what?” I reach my hand up to play in his black tousled locks. His bed head is extraordinarily sexy.

  “If I tell you, than it
won’t come true. And I so desperately want it to be true,” he says, inhaling the fragrance of my hair.

  I feel the hardness of his morning erection against my thigh and reflexively rub against it. “Sure there’s no way I can persuade you to tell me?”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Hey, Gabs, it’s me, can I come in?” Morgan calls out from the other side of my bedroom door.

  “Pretend like you’re asleep!” I whisper furiously to Dorian. He smiles and buries his face into the pillow. After I ensure his naked body is completely covered and slip on my robe, I open my bedroom door to greet my best friend and roommate. “Hey Morg, what’s up?”

  Morgan peers into my room and spies Dorian lying in my bed, pretending to be asleep. “Oh shit, Gabs, my bad. I didn’t know he was here,” she whispers. “Just really quick…I am in need of some ‘lady products,’ if you know what I mean. I just ran out. Got any to spare?”

  “Sure.” I wave let her in, waving her towards my bathroom. Once we enter, I close the door and search for my stash of tampons under the sink. “Here. You can have them all,” I say handing her an unopened box.

  “Are you sure?” she asks with a bewildered look. “If I’m on mine, then you should be on yours too.” She nods her head towards the door, towards the beautiful naked man sleeping in my bed before her face turns into a combination of disgust and amusement. “Ew! You dirty whore!” she shrieks playfully.

  I gasp at Morgan’s heinous insinuation. “Morgan! Keep your voice down!” I whisper furiously. “And no, I’m not on my period!” Shit! I know Dorian can hear every word and I am utterly mortified.

  “What? How is that possible? We’ve been synced up since high school, Gabs. Like clockwork.” Morgan’s eyes suddenly grow wide with sheer horror, her jaw nearly hitting the tiled floor. “Gabs, when was your last period?”

 

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