Читать книгу Finding Lily - Vivacia Ahwen K - Страница 13

Moonlight and streetlamps illuminated Dorian’s white bedroom, and I took in the starkness. He pulled the black curtains shut, and the sudden, cave-like darkness was utter and complete.

I wonder if Dorian ever goes spelunking. Bet he does. Oh, well. I’ll never know, now.

‘“In the white room … ,”’ I sang.

‘Hush.’ There was a soft rustling as he turned back the sheets. ‘Lie down, Lily. I would recommend on your stomach. I’ll be right back.’

The sheets were cool, soft and smelled sweetly of lavender. Mmn. I could get used to this. Well, don’t get used to it, dumbass.

Dorian returned with two bottles of water, two popsicles and two Advil.

‘Are you planning to put your popsicle on my butt cheek?’ I asked him. ‘Because I sure could use a little ice, there, cowboy.’

‘You do vex me, Lily,’ he said, hurriedly setting down his little care package. ‘Here. Take these, and I’ll bring you a cold pack.’

I propped my head up on my fist, and washed down the Advil with nearly an entire bottle of Fuji. ‘Yikes!’ I squealed, as Dorian pressed a cold pack against my right butt cheek. It was wrapped in soft cloth, and his touch was gentle.

‘Is that helping?’

‘Totally.’ I shivered. ‘Pass me a popsicle?’

‘What’s the magic word?’

‘Please.’

‘Close your eyes.’ There was a crackle as Dorian tore off the wrapper. ‘Now you’ll have to guess the colour.’

‘Already know. Luigis only makes lemon and lime, right?’

‘These aren’t “Italian ice”. They’re trashy popsicles, and they’re delicious.’

‘Hmn.’ I took a long suck. ‘Orange. You?’

‘I’m cooling your bottom right now. No time for oral fixation.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to keep holding it. Lie next to me. Hold me. Eat a popsicle.’

‘Demanding little thing, aren’t you?’ But he followed my directions and lay down beside me. There was a light note in his voice to which I was unaccustomed.

‘Whatcha got?’

‘Mmn. Red. Never knew if it was supposed to be raspberry or strawberry.’ Though it was dark, I could hear that he was smiling. ‘Let’s eat the whole box.’

I took another slurp. ‘We could have some fun with a box of popsicles, Mr Holder.’

‘Give me a few minutes, love.’ He laughed, and pulled me closer. ‘Why don’t you tell me your brilliant plans?’

‘You know …’ This was different. And he’d just called me ‘love’. ‘We shouldn’t ruin your sheets.’

‘I have others, you know.’

‘You change your own sheets?’

‘Touché. Open your mouth.’ Dorian slid the popsicle between my lips. His eyelashes were so long that I could even see them in his silhouette. They were fluttering like butterfly wings. Did I make him nervous? ‘Damn, that’s hot.’

‘Fruit punch. Neither strawberry nor raspberry.’

‘Right.’ He took a breath. ‘So, how do you feel about staying here with me tonight?’

‘For realz?’ I asked. ‘I don’t know. My lens stuff’s downstairs.’

Though I was trying to play it oh-so-cool, goosebumps prickled down my neck with excitement. Well, the icepack on my butt played no small role, but I didn’t expect the invitation, especially since my own bed was a mere few floors down.

‘You’ll find supplies in the drawer of your bedside table.’

‘OK, stalker-boy. I’ll stay the course.’ I nursed my frozen treat, mulling this over. ‘You know, Dorian, the only thing I actually wish you would replace is my glasses. The first time you kissed me, you stepped on them. And they were expensive. Or my version of expensive, anyway.’

‘You’re right, I did. I could replace them, or …’ He sucked on his popsicle. ‘If you want, I could buy you Lasik surgery. You’d never have to bother with them again. Or your lenses. I’m connected to the best—’

‘I don’t want Lasik surgery,’ I told him. ‘Or, if I did, I’d save up and get it myself. You don’t get to surgically alter my body. I want my fancy specs back.’

‘Got it.’ He finished his popsicle in one bite. ‘It’s not like I was trying to get you to buy fake tits or something.’

I snorted.

‘Not that you could improve upon perfection.’ He cupped my right boob with an air of ownership. ‘All right, Lily. I’ll ease up on the extravagant gifts, even though you should know by now there aren’t any strings attached.’

‘Why would I know that? We’ve only just started –’ I paused ‘– hanging out.’

‘Is that what we’re doing, Lily?’ Dorian asked, waiting. ‘Hanging out?’

‘I don’t know. I should stop talking.’

‘Very good idea. So, new glasses, a trip to the ballet, your dance lessons, a library and a new bed. Then I’ll try to stop.’ He brushed his lips against mine. ‘Though I don’t know what’s fun about money if you can’t spend it.’

‘And popsicles.’

‘Yes, all the popsicles. I’m good to go. You? How’s that bum? Feeling any better?’

‘Let’s find out,’ I suggested, and I rolled over and straddled him.

‘Go get me my dessert, woman,’ he said, shoving me off.

‘I am your dessert,’ I retorted, and padded off to the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a manila folder on the marble countertop, and, even in the dim light could make out my name, Lily Dewitt, in Dorian’s now familiar script. Does he keep files on me? What is that? I hesitated, thought better of opening it and flung open the freezer instead.

‘Hey,’ Dorian said, as I leapt back on the bed. ‘You really did bring the whole box, didn’t you?’

‘I don’t do anything half-assed,’ I said, and tore open the wrapper with my teeth and licked. ‘You like grape?’

‘Give me that,’ he ordered. ‘Lie down on your back.’

‘Yes, Mr Holder.’ I dropped back, and cringed at the pressure against my sore flesh.

He traced the tip of the popsicle around my nipples, and sucked at them while I shivered. ‘Definitely grape.’

‘Are you sure?’ I whispered. ‘Maybe it’s lime.’

‘No, lime tastes like floor cleaner.’

‘Dorian, please play with me.’

‘All right. Let’s see.’ He slid the popsicle down my stomach, over my shaved mons, slipped just the tip between the lips of my pussy, then began slowly circling my clit, which cowered at the iciness. Christ, it was cold. ‘Let me have another taste, Lily.’

As Dorian ate me out, I heard him giggle under the sheets, something I’d never have expected from my cantankerous master. Not one of his low chuckles, derisive snorts or hollow laughs. A goofy, high-school-boy, doofus giggle.

And it was delightful. I reached down and stroked his hair with one hand and his cheek with the other. I touched his dimple I had grown so fond of, and he responded by burying his face further against my slick pussy, slurping at my juices and the popsicle he was playing with, whatever its colour was, I couldn’t remember. For the next several minutes we were lost in a sticky, slippery rainbow of ice and heat, salty and sweet.

For the record, the tip of a cherry popsicle prodding against one’s asshole, followed with a gentle pinky prod, is rather lovely.

After I came, my not-boyfriend pulled himself up to face me, tossing back the tent of white sheet. He touched my temple, another act of tenderness which struck me as entirely out of character. Mr Holder was full of surprises that night.

‘Well?’ he whispered.

I nodded, though unsure what I was assenting to, as the darkness made his face nearly inscrutable. Did you come, Lily? Are you falling in love with me, Lily? Do you want me to leave you alone? Do you want to stay with me for ever and always?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Like Dorian ever would have said any of that. He would never miss the moment I came, had no doubt in his power to make it happen in seconds – or hours, depending on how much he wanted to torture me – and was far too arrogant to think a woman would feel the need to fake it for him. He knew damned well that I was falling in love with him, perhaps had already fallen altogether. He knew I wanted him to leave me alone, but only because I wanted him to call me his, for ever and always. I had no delusions that would ever happen, and was fully prepared to have my heart broken. Dorian Holder was as addictive as any drug, and I had no willpower wherever he was concerned. Will, yes. Power, no.

‘You tasty little thing’ is what Dorian said, licking his lips, before parting mine with his chilly tongue. Then he pulled away, reluctant, and asked, ‘Should we take the rest of the box to the shower?’

As I was still catching my breath and shivering, it took me a minute to stammer the words ‘Y-yes. Things are getting a little out of control.’

‘You don’t know the meaning of “out of control”, Lily,’ he replied, then pointed down. ‘Now we’re going to the shower, we’ll get clean, we’ll get dirty and, most importantly, I want you to wrap that freezing, beautiful mouth around my cock while hot water runs over both of us. Then I’ll try to fuck you up the ass, and you’ll tell me I can’t.’

‘Am I that predictable?’

‘There’s clean sheets in the linen closet. Strip my bed. Make my bed. I like the sheets tight enough that you can bounce a quarter off them. Then you may join me in the shower.’ Dorian picked up his watch from the bedside table, and squinted. ‘You have five minutes to follow my instructions.’

He grabbed the rest of the popsicles and left the room, with a slight bounce to his step. Meanwhile, I wished for a dead cockroach to put on his side of the bed, like Maggie Gyllenhaal did to James Spader in Secretary. I wanted him to punish me harder, upping the mind-control games, ordering me around even more, fanning the flames of my desire, which grew ever more powerful each time I surrendered to him. There’s more to life, more to kink, than begging, nipple clips, and butt-smacking. I wondered just how far he would go.

And how far I would let him. That remained to be seen.

Fuckin’ A, I hate cleaning.

Thank God for contour deep sheets.

Especially when they’re 1,000-thread-count Egyptian cotton.

Dorian’s phone rang, startling me. BEATRICE, I read on the screen. Lord knew what possessed me, but I picked up the phone.

You see, I had a few questions to ask.