Page 294

“Dusha.”

His lips draw near mine and he repeats it again, barely a whisper.

“Moya Dusha.”

The room is submerged in a muffled silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of Dorian’s breathing against me. I feel the weight of his body as he shifts slightly, his shoulder brushing my back.

I turn over slowly. His hair falls messily over his forehead, a single lock slides across his face, the contrast with his dark brows casting a delicate shadow around his half-closed eyes. I reach out with my fingers, grazing that rebellious strand. My thumb slides over his cheek, the tips of my fingers tracing the line of his neck.

“Il est beau quand il dort.”

My lips draw unconsciously toward his, but I pull back at the last instant, caught in the act.

A sudden grip on my wrist makes me jolt. Still half-asleep, he has seized my hand. His lidded eyes search for mine.

“Only when I sleep?” he murmurs, his voice husky and low.

I try to turn away to escape him, but his arms close around me, enveloping me from behind. The heat of his skin imprints itself onto my back, I feel the hardness of his body against mine, a contrast between Dorian’s apparent calm and the tension coursing through me.

His fingers slide slowly down my hips, while his rigidity presses against my backside.

“Even just awake, you are an animal.”

A smile creases his lips against my back. “You have a very dirty mouth, Viscount.”

“Me?”

“I have not forgotten all the dirty things you said yesterday.”

His hand reaches toward my stomach, encountering what I had forgotten to hide.

“And apparently, I am not the only one who is an animal,” he says, while his thumb delicately brushes my tip.

I lie flat on my back.

“It is a mere physical reaction.”

Dorian draws closer, the corner of his mouth lifting, his eyes gleaming somewhere between sleep and amusement.

“So, it isn’t for me?”

I lift a hand and place it over his face, covering it so I don’t have to see his smile.

“No.”

Before I can add anything more, I feel his tongue against my palm. I recoil instantly, my heart thumping against my sternum. I watch him smile, and a shiver runs down my spine as he leans down to close the distance to my lips.

A sharp knock at the door interrupts us. I startle, clutching the sheet in my hands.

“Dorian, are you awake? They told me you were here.”

I hear his sigh and see his hand go to his hair, tense and nervous.

“Wait for me in the library,” he answers curtly.

He moves toward me again, his eyes still on my face, his erection brushing my stomach.

The voice from before interrupts again.