Page 84 of Room Service
“Well, well, well,” Nate says as he answers the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Dorien?”
In the last few months, I’ve seen Nate in several of my hotels, with his wife, and sometimes Jax and his sister, Zoey, too. I’ve even had dinner with them on a couple of occasions, so I guess you could say we have a very tentative friendship of sorts.
“I need you to find someone,” I tell him, but I don’t even need to say her name, because he knows I’m calling about her. I spilled my drunken guts about her leaving at the beginning, when he was at the bar ordering drinks one night at The Blue Diamond, the place that holds so many fucking memories for me.
“Consider it done. I’ll call you by the end of the day.” And then he hangs up, our conversation over. He’ll find her quicker than a private investigator would, and I don’t have any more time to waste.
Chapter Sixty-Five
ELISE
I get in the door after going for a drink with Chantel, once we’d wrapped up the latest design we’ve been working on together. It’s late, but we had to go and celebrate, because it was the first piece that had been commissioned from the new line we’ve just launched. As promised, Chantel didn’t push me to be the face of it, and it’s just an extension of her and Gabe’s brand, but fuck, it’s one of the best things ever. The long hours have been worth it, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds.
It's also been good to be busy, because today marked the end of the six months. The six months where Dorien said he would find me, but there’s been no sign of him. The disappointment hits me even harder as I kick off my shoes and close the front door, reaching for the light but finding that the room is still bathed in darkness, except for the glow of the moonlight coming through the lounge window. I groan as I feel my way to the other side, to switch on the lamp, but as I reach the table the lamp sits on, I hear a sound, my ears instantly picking it up and my body going on high alert. Fuck. If it’s an intruder, I’ll scream bloody murder. But then, music starts to play, coming through the speakers at the corners of the room, and my heart pumps for a totally different reason.
As the song I once played for him in the penthouse begins, the one where I commanded him to sit as I gave him a thank you, of sorts, on the same night when he first told me he loved me, I know that he’s here. He came for me. And when I see a shadow moving on the other side of the room, I struggle to keep my trembling legs from collapsing. He walks further into the room, until the moonlight lets me see the side of his face, the power in his stance, and the way his jaw ticks as he looks at me.
For a moment, I think my eyes are playing tricks on me, my mind having some kind of fucking breakdown and showing me what I want to see. I drop my head and turn to the table, placing a hand on it to steady myself, but then I feel him behind me and I straighten myself up, anticipating the moment he decides to touch me again.
His fingers touch the skin at the side of my neck first, his fingers brushing my hair back as his lips whisper in my ear, “Time’s up, buttercup.”
And just those words alone has my heart fit to burst.
His body brushes against mine, and then his hips are moving to the beat as his hands find my hips and moves me with him. He grinds against me, and my eyes fill with unshed tears. He came. He’s here. He didn’t give up on me.
He turns me around and holds me as we dance to the music, and I feel like all of my dreams have finally come true.
“Have you found yourself, Elise?” he asks, his eyes boring into mine.
“Not entirely,” I whisper, and I feel his body tense a little at my answer. “But that’s because the last part of the missing puzzle is you. I’m not me without you, Dorien.” It’s the honest to God truth. Even as I spent months doing what I needed to do, I was always missing the piece of my soul that only belongs to him. “I’m sorry I—”
“Shhh,” he says, placing a finger on my lips to stop me from speaking. “No more apologies, Elise. You have nothing to apologise for.”
“I do,” I say, even as his hand cups my cheek and his thumb runs over my lips. “And I’ll never stop trying to make up for it.”
Our hips move in sync as his lips lower to mine, and I finally taste what I’ve missed for so long. He moves me back and pins me against the wall, my hands held above my head as our tongues meet, desperate to make up for the time we’ve missed.
And when he breaks his lips from mine, he smirks and says, “Get on your knees.”
A laugh bursts out of me from pure happiness. We can talk later, if he wants to, because there is nothing I will ever hide from him, not now, not ever. I found my peace in him, and the time apart has only made that stronger.
And as he lets go of my hands and I drop to my knees, I look up at him, totally mesmerised by him as he says, “Good girl.”
I quickly undo his trousers, freeing his cock and devouring him. He grabs the back of my head, his fingers fisting in my hair as he fucks my mouth, but before he can come, he pulls me off him and back to a standing position, walking me to the sofa where he tells me to, “Bend over,” the end. I don’t need asking twice as I fold my body over the arm and thank fuck I put a skirt on this morning. He lifts my skirt up and runs his hand over my arse, before I look behind and see him crouched down, his tongue running over the lace covering my pussy, making me moan out loud.
“So fucking wet for me,” he says, tasting me, feeling what he does to me. Only him, always.
He pulls my knickers to the side and buries his tongue in me, my cries of pleasure echoing around the apartment, mixed with the sensual music that continues to play. My senses are heightened, every part of me trembling with my need for him. He eats me from behind, squeezing my arse cheeks, and then he pulls away and tells me, “Sit on my face, Elise.” I push myself off the sofa to find him laying on the floor, waiting for me to straddle him, but I’m obviously taking too long as he pulls me down until my pussy is in line with his mouth, his fingers ripping the material of my underwear which he throws to the side.
“Hold your skirt up and watch as you fuck my face,” he demands, and my body heats from his words alone. I watch as he pleasures me. I watch as I come from his mouth. I watch as the man I love more than anything in this world takes everything from me before I explode on his tongue. And then he carries me to the bedroom, stripping me of my clothes, and me stripping him of his, before he makes love to me. Claiming me all over again.
“I love you, Dorien, so fucking much,” I say as he brings me to orgasm, and then his words push me over the edge.
“I love you more, buttercup.”
Chapter Sixty-Six
DORIEN
