One Shade of Gray

by Monica Corwin

  “It would be very hot. And the clothes were all higher quality, thicker fabrics, with so many layers you couldn’t get dressed without help. So even more warm because of that.”

  I crossed my arms under my breasts and pushed off the column to face him. “I owe you an apology.”

  His mouth hung open as if he were about to say something and he snapped it shut after my declaration.

  “I’m sorry my brother kidnapped you and forced you to listen to one of his boring lectures.”

  “I think…”

  “Oh and I’m sorry he tased you. That really wasn’t cool. To be fair, he did say Chloroform hurts more and it takes a lot longer to work than tasing so that is why he chose that…” I trailed off. He likely didn’t need the rundown I’d forced out of Jake before he left.

  He blinked a few times and stepped forward enough that I could smell his cologne. I wanted to press my face to his neck and snort it. The smell reminded me of his hands on my body and his teeth. All of it.

  I stepped forward, closing the distance between us but not touching him. “Can we get out of here and talk?”

  He nodded and held out his elbow. I threaded my arm through the loop he created and he clasped my forearm against his body tight. “Now you can’t escape,” he teased.

  Little did he know I was thinking the same thing.

  Outside the ornate front doors, which no one in the company ever used, about a quarter of the guests milled around. Some were smoking; others sat stretching their legs out on the stairs. One couple was hot and heavy around the bend of a statue.

  Dorian guided me along and I allowed him to lead me wherever he wanted to go. We stayed silent. I figured he wanted privacy and the square and side streets were packed with people after the event. I was surprised when we ended up at my front door.

  I led him in and slipped off the shoes that had begun blisters on my heels. Luckily, before Band-Aids were required. Blood and satin are not a good combination.

  He hovered awkwardly by the door. As if he wanted to make a dash whenever the first opportunity arose.

  I pointed to the couch. “You can sit down.”

  He sat on the edge of my couch and tested its give. It must have performed well because he sank back into it with a sigh.

  “Are your shoes killing you too? You’re welcome to take them off.”

  He chuckled and just like that it felt normal, being here in my home with him. “No, I have some experience with uncomfortable footwear.”

  I threw myself down on the couch beside him in a cloud of satin and crinoline. Once I’d contained my dress enough to move my legs I propped my foot across my knee to rub it. Usually I walked in flats but I didn’t want to risk letting go of Gray before we’d gotten here so I limped back in those killer heels.

  Dorian reached out and plucked my ankle off the top of knee and stretched it to his. When he started rubbing the stocking-covered balls of my feet I thought I could orgasm then and there.

  “That is amazing. Where did you learn to do that?”

  He smiled, a good smile, not a mask but not the showstopper either. “I told you I have experience with uncomfortable shoes. When I was a young man and a woman went off on her own. I’d help her, offer to rub her feet…one thing usually led to another.”

  “Women used to sleep with you for a foot massage. Wow. You must be good.”

  He glided his thumb down the tendon on the bottom of my foot and my entire leg shook in response. Well damn.

  “Watch it, Gray. We have to keep things civil until we figure it out.”

  “What are we figuring out?”

  To be honest I had no idea. He and I never really talked about what we were or what we could be, only what we couldn’t be. I knew I cared about him. I wanted to see where things with him could go. Even after warnings from both Gray and my brother. I wanted to make the choice for my own life. Both of them trying to push me away only made me want what I couldn’t have even more.

  I decided to go for the truth. “I have absolutely no clue what we need to figure out. But I do know there is something here.”

  He glanced over as he massaged the entire top portion of my foot in his two big hands. “I agree with that sentiment. We certainly do have something.”

  I lifted my foot off his lap and he held his hands up for me to switch out the massaged foot for the still aching one.

  A moment of silence passed between us while he rubbed, and then he stopped and met my eyes. “If you know what your brother did, then you also know why he felt the need to do it. I agree with him. I’m going mad. And as much as I adore you, Isobel, I refuse to put you in any danger.”

  His declaration, while well intentioned, punched me in the neck. “And you and my brother are both under the impression that I am unable to take care of myself. I’m a grown woman and if I want to be with a man, insane or not, I’ll do what I damn well choose.”

  My outburst took him by surprise. His eyes flew open wide and the hands that had resumed their ministrations froze.

  “Sorry,” I grumbled. “I don’t like being bossed around, especially by men.”

  He nodded and started on my feet again. “Understandable. I apologize for presuming to know what is best for you. But I will say, I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

  I sat up and put my hand over one of his. “You’re too late. You leaving, despite it not being of your own free will, that hurt. And you did write that letter. All of that hurt. Then the silence while you brooded. That hurt as well.”

  He hung his head, a strand of his wavy hair falling forward down his forehead. “I’m sorry for that. I truly am.”

  I lay back down, if only to get some space between us. “What hurts me most of all is I can’t figure out why I care so much. By all accounts we haven’t spent a ton of time together. But, whenever I’m with you, it feels like home. Like the home I had before my parents left us. I feel more than happy, more like content. I’m not ready to give that up. Even if that means I have divide my time between my house and the mental institution. Although I have no idea if France has mental institutions.”

  He chuckled for that one at least. “They do. Plus, money can pretty much buy anything to be delivered anywhere.”

  I threw my hands up. “There you go. You’re rich. Get one of those live-in doctors, except make him a psychologist or whatever. I can’t ever remember which ones can prescribe medication. Get one of those. I need a refill on my Xanax.”

  Another laugh.

  When he remained silent I kept going. “Okay then, realistically what are your options? What should you do in this situation?”

  He cupped my heel and wiggled it in a way that shot sensation up to my kneecaps. “I should go to the science center where they will likely keep me for observation indefinitely.”

  “That sounds ominous. Nothing like an American science lab taking prisoners to ruin a relationship.”

  He continued the silence until it started to piss me off. I dragged my feet of his lap, sat up, and maneuvered the dress until I straddled his lap. He pressed back into the couch as if he were trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

  “You’re not getting off that easy, Gray. I know you have opinions about this, and feelings. Can you weigh in here? I’m trying to make an effort, and I think you’re trying to push me away. Again.”

  He looked everywhere except at me. Instead of forcing it, I climbed off his lap, went into my bedroom, and slammed the door. I had to get rid of this damn dress. Once I got the zipper off the rest was simple enough. Standing in my underwear, which I’d chosen particularly to inspire worship, his refusal to budge hurt even more.

  That man should have been on his knees with his face between my legs right now, and instead, he sat pouting. The consideration of it just didn’t feel right. I arranged my boobs in the black corset I wore, made sure the stockings were in place around my thighs, and threw open the door of my bedroom with the same determination with which I slamme
d it.

  “Dorian Gray.”

  His eyes snapped to mine in the doorway. Then he slowly let his gaze drop down my body in a line. Once he reached my feet he met my eyes again and then glanced off somewhere beside my ear.

  “I did not put this corset on for my own benefit.”

  He flexed his fingers into fists and adjusted on the couch.

  When he didn’t move, I stalked over in my stocking-clad feet until I stood next to his legs. “Look at me,” I snapped.

  His eyes flashed to mine.

  “It’s my turn to take control. And you’re going to listen.”

  20

  Dorian

  This entire plan, to have one last goodbye, had turned into a terrible idea. Sitting on Izzy’s couch while she gave me orders in lingerie was not something I was equipped to deal with. Nor was any man if they’d seen the way that lace cupped her breasts.

  I swallowed and tried to come up with an excuse to get me out the door. But the second she stepped into her living room in that corset, every problem-solving cell in my body evaporated.

  “Nope. Not going to work, Gray.”

  She reached out and seized one side of my jacket and dragged me to her bedroom. Once inside, she slammed the door, spun me to face her, and then pushed me onto the edge of her bed with two hands against my stomach.

  I looked her room over. Her bed was a lovely cherry wood; tones of pale lavender and teal decorated the bedding, furniture, and rug.

  “You’re not redecorating here. Focus.” She ordered. I snapped my attention back and got a face full of her breasts as she unwound my bowtie. The sweet scent of vanilla and peaches rose up from that swell. I could happily spend the rest of eternity with my face in her cleavage.

  I met her eyes and the sense of helpless wonder descended once more. There wasn’t a single directive she could give that I might deny her.

  Instead of trying to fight it, I gave in. She sensed the change immediately, and her movements took on a new level of urgency. As she tried to get my jacket off I stilled her hands and winked. “I got it.”

  She nodded and knelt to pull my shoes off, then my socks. I’d gotten down to my trousers, undershirt, and cummerbund. All of which she easily stripped too. Now I stood in my pants, intent on playing a more active role in this scenario, but she shook her head and pushed me back down.

  The bed bounced and creaked under my weight. When she spun around I caught her intention. The stays of the corset needed to be loosened, and she wanted me to do the honors. I untied the easy knots and loosened the cord until she could wiggle free from the undergarment.

  Now clad only in black lace panties and black thigh-high stockings, she made my mouth water. She propped her foot up on my knee and I shuddered, my erection already growing, as I ran a finger under the edge of the sheer fabric and drew it toward me and off her foot.

  I reached for her other leg but she slowly lifted the finished one down and spread her balance to lift the other up. In those few seconds, her legs were open, affording me a view of everything she offered.

  The second stocking came off faster. Once I’d finished she climbed up onto the bed beside me and leaned in. I matched her, about to press my lips to hers when she put her fingers there instead. It didn’t stop me; I drew the middle one between my lips, sucking the end. She rewarded me with a sharp intake of breath and a bite of her lip.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked, hoping and praying it involved me being inside her in the next two minutes.

  Her pink lips curled until I feared for any reasonable amount of sanity I had left.

  She pushed me to my back and straddled my lap, the heat of her through her panties seeping into my own underwear. That delicious scent of her arousal reached me too, and I cupped her ass to drag her along my erection.

  Her eyes fluttered closed and then she jerked and slapped my hands. “I’m in control this time.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously she scolded me. With my hands up in surrender I gave her my best innocent bystander look. “I’m at your mercy, My Lady.”

  She wiggled her hips and I reached out to clutch her hips again. Another swap of my hands. “You do that again, I’m going to punish you.”

  I released her and allowed her to draw my hands up and anchor them by the wrists with her own near my head. Her lips only centimeters from mine, I tried to close the distance but she pulled back. Once I settled she’d lean in again. Then she kissed me. Not like any kiss she’d shared with me yet. It was purposeful, soft and teasing, and she ran her tongue along the seam of my lips until I relented to her, allowing her inside. Then she let go of my wrists, speared her fingers in the hair behind my ears, and pressed into me harder with her hands, her hips, and that tongue dipping into my mouth, stroking along mine.

  Hellfire, I could come in my pants like a teenager from a kiss like this. When she released me and I could form half a coherent thought, I again met her lust-clouded eyes. A satisfied twist of her lips told me she wasn’t finished with me yet.

  She trailed her lips down my chin, then to the hollow at my throat. Next, a pass over each nipple with a tiny bite that made me reach for her. Then she slid her tongue down the center of my stomach until she reached the edge of my boxer briefs. My cock was so hard the head poked out over the waistband of my pants.

  “What have we here?” she asked, before sliding down my legs and jerking my underwear with her. She ripped them off my legs over my feet and dropped them onto the floor. My cock, now free from its confines, sat hard and heavy and waiting for her.

  She reached out and grasped it at the base. I could feel that grip all the way to my toes.

  “I’m not going to lie. I missed this while you were away doing crazy man things.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of her comment. Then she slid her hand up and the laughter gave way to a moan.

  “Does that feel good?” she asked, and I could only swallow and nod.

  Torn between closing my eyes and giving in to the sensations, and watching as she teased me, I shifted my hips so I could sit up.

  “Nope,” she said, moving to push me back down but I didn’t go.

  She raised an eyebrow. It was more of a challenge than a question.

  “How about a little game?”

  She leaned in, passing her lips against mine for a microsecond before retreating. A tease and a torment. “What kind of game?” Her breath fanned onto my wet lips.

  “Do you know soixante-neuf?” I asked, before I reached out and cupped the back of her head so when I kissed her this time she couldn’t get away. She allowed it, and sucked my bottom lip into her mouth before stalling me again.

  “I think you mean sixty-nine, but it does have a certain ring to it in French. It sounds even dirtier if that’s possible. What’s the game?”

  “First one to orgasm loses.”

  “And the hold out with the amazing focus?” She joked. “What does she win?”

  I leaned in and bit her earlobe hard enough to make her suck in a gust of air. “Let’s say winner’s choice. They can have one wish granted.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m still not doing anal.”

  I laughed, kissed her hard, and then lay back on the bed. She scooted back, pulled off her underwear, and shifted into position with her legs spread above my face. I drew her hips down, pressing her thighs wider apart, until I could press my face to her opening.

  She smelled like heaven. I licked a line up the wet center of her and her hips shuddered in my hold. This was prize enough for me. I flicked my tongue over her clit and loosed my hold on one of her thighs to part her lips for a deeper taste.

  At the same time, she dropped her mouth down almost to my ball sack and my thoughts fragmented. It took a moment to recall what I was doing until she undulated above me, pressing her pussy into my mouth. I slid my finger along her seam to spread her wide and then I pressed my mouth over her clit and sucked in the little bud. Once I had it i
n my mouth I re-secured her hips with my hands and teased her mercilessly. She swiveled, gyrated, and humped my face trying to get more pressure there. In turn, she began sucking faster, sliding her hand to my balls downward, slick and hot, each time her mouth came back up, doubling the sensation.

  If this woman killed me. I’d go one happy man.

  Three minutes of pleasurable torture passed and until she yanked her hips hard away from my arms and climbed off me.

  “It doesn’t count if you forfeit,” I noted, still lying flat.

  She shook he head, threw her leg over mine, stood my erection up and sat on it in one long thrust. “You win,” she whispered heavily.

  I reached out and secured her hips on either side, feeling each silken crook of her hips forward and back. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her neck arched back. Every so often she’d utter a curse or drag her lip between her teeth. I watched it all, trying to focus on her and not the wet hot wrap of her body around my cock.

  If I focused on that I’d finish in seconds. And I wanted to make sure she came first.

  She canted her hips forward and I could tell this was the position she’d been looking for. Each rise and fall grew more frantic, more frenzied, and she placed her hands on my chest to get better leverage. I let her set the pace and rhythm, merely using her hips to hold onto her, touch her, revel in her.

  With no warning I felt the first squeeze of her orgasm, and it triggered mine like a semi truck striking another head on. I clutched her hips harder and let her ride out the end of her own orgasm. Once she started to slow I took hold and fucked myself with her body. It was wetter and tighter from her own end, and mine burst forth. I came fast and hard lifting my hips up bringing us a little off the bed now. She held on until I stilled and then lay down flat on my chest with me still clutched tight in the hold of her body.

  Damn. I wrapped my hand around her neck, sliding my fingers through her silken hair.

  “That felt good,” she whispered against my sweat-sheened chest.