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CHAPTER 5
DORIAN
I was in my bedroom, pacing back and forth like an animal in a cage, when I heard her fall, I rushed into the bathroom and found her passed out on the floor. This lioness, this war photo journalist whose photographs showed terrors most people never dream of, she had fainted at the bruises and the blood and the evening, crumpled on the floor. I had to clean her up, and try to take her mind off the evening.
Her taking a shower or a bath was a bad idea, what if she fainted again? I could have offered to watch over her, and the thought of me watching her shower or take a bath sounded like a wonderful idea, but I wasn't sure I could control myself.
My head said no, but my cock screamed yes.
When she woke up, she didn't know where she was at first, and the fear showed itself, but immediately she gave me that look that said, 'I trust you completely', the look that can send me to ecstasy, usually. I almost forgot myself for a second.
I dabbed the washcloth with alcohol and brought it over her neck, guiding it along her body slowly, her skin is wet then the alcohol evaporates in a flash. She was driving me crazy. Her body was wonderful, and my hands slipped over it, I raised goose bumps with one hand and laid them back down with the other. I was almost hypnotized by her starting to shiver, then it going away when the other hand warmed her up.
Her eyes are closed and she moans quietly. “Sorry. The hot and cold together, it feels good but maybe too much.”
“You want me to stop?”
“No.” she answers without missing a beat.
Jesus Christ, I think. I wipe her shoulders, another shudder of her body under my hands. I think how much further I have to go down her body, and the treasures awaiting me. This won't last. My body won't control itself that long.
I flip her over before I lose control, she lets out a squeak of surprise, or delight, I'm not sure. This is how I lose control, this is it.
No, not this time.
A towel covers her ass, but her naked back curves like an S on its side, her neck sloping down to the small of her back, and curving up for her ass, shaped like a perfect heart, and then down again to her legs. I make it down her back and the back sides of her legs, I don't know how. I wanted to savor every inch, even the backs of her calves were sexy, and she moaned again when I went over the insides of her knees.
An exercise in control.
I flipped her over and started from the feet up her body, her eyes still closed. I caught her staring at me when I got back to her stomach and was almost done.
And how she smelled, my god, the apples, the scent of malum, mixed with her own body chemistry in an intoxicating aroma. If she asked again, I wasn't sure I could stop myself. The rules were there because they had worked for thousands of years, they were for everybody's protection and proven to work. They were there so you would not lose control, but I wasn’t sure they would stop me if I got too close and smelled her again.
But Sela is different, so different. Fierce, but able to trust. Able to surrender easily. She would be perfect for me to dominate, but there's no way now. She's off limits. And if I made a move now, it would be taking advantage of her fragile state. She's too much for me to handle right now, and I would be too much for her, the club and domination would be too much for both of us.
I keep telling myself it's decided, and it won't happen and I'm in control, but my hands keep going, my cock bulges and pulses in my pants, I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince or why. I've been over her front and her back, and now I'm going over her front again, she's clean she's relaxed, and now I'm only doing this for me. I have to stop or else I don’t know what will happen.
This time, she even let me go over the scars on her stomach. Before, she would flinch, her hand would come over to cover them up, but not now, now she was finally relaxed, putty in my hands. The scars were fairly light, about three inches long, above both her hips, a few inches in from the sides. They were not jagged, they were straight and clearly done carefully, and with a sharp knife. But also clearly not the work of a doctor, a scalpel would be even lighter and stitches would have let it close evenly, not raised like these were.
“There, done. You should get some rest.”
“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” she asks coyly, seductively. I knew I was going on with this too long.
“Sleep. We'll talk in the morning.” I tell her, without a smile. I maneuver off the bed, without showing my hard on, bending at the waist awkwardly to hide it. She grabs my hand,
“Stay.” she says. “Please.” she says and it slays me. Not the same 'Please' as earlier tonight, that made me break down the door and carry her away.
No, this was the please that I wanted to hear from her. That made me want to show her what begging was, what pleasure was. She was testing every ounce of control I had, my natural instinct was to punish her, to dominate her, to make her obey.
“Go to sleep. Now. We'll talk in the morning.” I ordered her.
She smiled and closed her eyes. Complete trust, obedience. I left her there and all I could think about was the 'please'.
I go back to pacing in my bedroom like an animal in its cage. The questions she was asking were dangerous. She had no idea, but the curiosity, the adventurous instinct that led her across the world wanted to find out about me and the club. It was too risky, not a journalist, even if she could never publish anything, it was too risky. But the way she looked up at me as I mended her arms, the eyes that I could imagine looking up at me while she was sucking my cock, or rolling back into her head in pleasure as I fucked her.
There were too many reasons to say no, but the one inescapable desire to say yes, manifested itself in my pants, the lust was off the charts. But she didn't understand any of it. It wasn't a sex slave, if anything, I was the slave. I was the worshiper. But all of the rules had been broken this time. She had to be offered up to the membership, the auction was tradition, a rule that could not be broken.
But I had broken it tonight. If only I had gone down, and bid on her when I felt it wasn't right, this could have been avoided. I could have bid on her, outbid the rest and be done with it. I would be fucking her now instead of wanting to, instead of cleaning her up.
Maybe we could have another auction, and I could win it, and everything would be fine. I doubt it. What if I didn't win? Dante had more money than I did, that was almost certain. I couldn't stand it if he won. Not with the way she looked and made me crazy.