Page 58 of Room Service
* * *
After Celeste left, I spent the rest of the day lounging around, while Dorien has been dealing with hotel business, and I’m finding that I miss him. He’s been gone for six hours, and I actually do fucking miss him. Been staying with him for two days and I’m in deeper than I thought I would be.
With a sigh, I go to the bathroom and inspect my face. The bruising has come out more in the last twenty-four hours, the dark purple shades making me grimace. A shitty reminder of my trauma that I hope will fade quickly.
I haven’t heard a thing from Derrick since that night, and I hope I don’t, but after the way he acted, the silence is alarming. Or maybe it’s the fact that he realised he went too far and is now remorseful? I shake my head, because trying to figure out his mind will take more energy than I’m willing to give.
I hear the front door open, and I walk out of the bathroom with excitement bubbling up inside me. Excitement that Dorien is home, because clearly my heart has chosen its path and is winning the battle with my head not to accept that I’m falling for him. I have been since the moment he called me a ‘good girl’.
“Hey,” I say with a smile when he turns to look at me, and he hits me with the most handsome grin.
“Feeling better?” he asks as I walk right up to him and place a light kiss on his lips.
“The meds help with the aches.” I shrug, because I’m not about to darken the mood talking about my mental state, I did that last night and ended up going from laughing to being a bloody mess.
He studies my face, his eyes running over the bruises.
“They’re hideous, I know,” I say, reminding myself not to bite my lip and hinder the healing process.
“They’re not hideous, Elise.” He cups my face in his hands and tilts my head. “They’re a reminder that you’re a fighter.”
“I don’t feel like one,” I admit.
“Well, you are, and even as you hate them, they won’t be there forever. They will fade, but your fight won’t.”
“And how do you know that? Because I have to be honest and say that I feel exhausted by it all.”
“Even by me?”
“No,” I whisper. “Because you’re my light too.”
“Fuck,” he says before he brings his mouth to mine and kisses me softly, so as not to hurt me.
“How old are you, Dorien?” I say against his lips, and he barks a laugh.
“You mean you haven’t already tried to find out by looking me up on the internet?” he asks.
“No,” I say as I screw my nose up a little. “I have no interest in seeing what the internet says about you, because I’d rather you told me yourself.” I’ve been tempted to look, of course I have, but if I’d have done that, it would have meant snooping on him, when all I want is for him to tell me things himself—you know, like people used to before the internet and social media came along.
“Does it matter?”
“No, I’m just curious.”
“I’m thirty-nine, Elise.”
“Oh, wow, I may need to rethink some stuff,” I tease.
“Funny. And if you weren’t in pain right now, I’d be telling you to get down on your fucking knees for that comment.”
“My knees don’t hurt,” I whisper as I drop down to the floor and move my hands to his trousers.
“Fuck, no, Elise.” His voice is stern, but I need to feel anything but fucking helpless. I want to do this because he turns me on and makes me hot all of the damn time.
I ignore his words and undo his zip, my fingers delving in and touching his cock. He takes hold of my wrist to stop me from undoing the button, but I look up at him and say, ”Please, Dorien.”
He stares at me, his eyes full of hunger and his jaw clenched tight as his grip relaxes on my wrist, and I take that as my cue to carry on. I finish undoing his button and move my hands around to his arse, pushing his trousers and boxers down, freeing his cock. Immediately, my tongue darts out, licking the tip, and my hand comes back around and fists him. I move up and down, licking and swirling my tongue as he watches me, making it so much fucking hotter.
And even as my lips ache, I wrap them around him, taking him to the back of my throat and staying there for a moment as he growls, “Fuck.”
