Page 48 of Magic in My Bones

Dorian’s expression shifted then, becoming more intense, more focused. He leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “You’re incredible, Ren. Just tell me if you ever need to stop.”

The tenderness in his words settled my nerves, and I nodded again, a small, self-assured smile tugging at my lips. Myconfidence was still fragile, but with Dorian, I felt safe enough to explore, to let go.

With slow, deliberate movements, Dorian guided my hand, shifting it lower, showing me how to touch him in a way that made him groan, his hips jerking instinctively. His breath was ragged, his control slipping with each stroke of my fingers.

“Fuck, Ren,” he groaned, and I felt my pulse race at the sound of his voice, raw and needy. “You have no idea how good you’re making me feel.”

I swallowed hard, my own arousal simmering as his hands guided mine, showing me how to give him pleasure, how to make him feel wanted. Every touch felt like a revelation, each moment a new piece of the puzzle, teaching me what felt right.

With every stroke of my fingers, I could feel Dorian’s control slipping, the tension in his body betraying his attempts to hold back. The sound of his groans, low and desperate, stirred something deep in me, a need to give him more, to see just how far I could push him. Each gasp he made fed my own desire, deepening the connection between us in ways I couldn’t fully explain.

But beneath the rush of heat and the thrill of learning his body, something else began to bloom in my chest. A surge of courage. I wanted more than this. I wanted him to touch me.

I swallowed hard, my own breath coming in shallow bursts. The feeling of his hand on mine, showing me how to touch him, was both overwhelming and electrifying. But I knew it wasn’t enough. Not for me, not for him.

My hand stilled on Dorian and I drew in a shaky breath, gathering my courage. I reached for his wrist, my fingers circling the warm skin and feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath. Slowly, tentatively, I guided his hand lower, past the waistband of my jeans until his palm rested against the juncture of my thighs.

Dorian's eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in a silent gasp. “Ren?” he breathed, a question and a plea all in one.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Instead, I pressed his hand more firmly against me, letting him feel the heat of my arousal even through the layers of fabric. A soft whimper escaped my throat at the contact, the pressure both a relief and a torment.

Dorian's fingers flexed, cupping me through my jeans. The sensation sent sparks racing up my spine, my hips canting forward of their own accord. He watched me intently, his gaze dark and heated as he slowly, deliberately, rubbed his palm against me.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and rough. “Tell me what you need, Ren.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “More,” I managed, the word coming out as a needy rasp. “I need... I need to feel you.”

Dorian's eyes locked onto mine, dark with desire but also with a hint of surprise. His fingers brushed tentatively over the hard nub of my cock through my boxer briefs, making me gasp. It felt so different from my own touch, electric and thrilling.

“Show me,” Dorian murmured, his voice low and husky. “Show me how you like to be touched.”

My heart pounded as I guided his hand beneath the waistband, skin finally meeting skin. Dorian inhaled sharply as his fingers encountered my most intimate parts for the first time—the small, stiff shaft straining upwards and the slick opening below.

I let out a shaky breath as Dorian's fingers explored me, each delicate touch sending sparks dancing across my skin. He circled the sensitive head of my cock, rubbing gently at first, then with more pressure. The sensation was intense, almost too much, making me gasp and squirm against him.

“Like this?” Dorian murmured, his breath hot against my ear. He flicked his thumb over the tip in firm circles.

I nodded frantically, not trusting my voice. Dorian seemed to understand my wordless plea. He kept his touch firm as he massaged the shaft, rolling it between his fingers. The pressure was exquisite, just this side of painful in the best possible way. I could feel the tension building low in my belly, coiling tighter with each stroke.

But it wasn't enough. I needed more.

With trembling hands, I guided Dorian's fingers lower, past my cock to the wet opening beneath. “You can touch here too.”

Emboldened by his praise, I pressed his fingers more insistently against me, showing him without words what I craved. Dorian was a quick study. He circled my opening with a teasing touch before slowly, carefully slipping one long finger inside.

I gasped as Dorian's finger slid inside me. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt before—fuller, warmer, more intimate than the slim vibrator I'd experimented with in the past.

“Oh god,” I whimpered, my hips rocking instinctively, trying to take him deeper.

Dorian groaned, his other hand gripping my hip to steady me. “Easy, love. Let yourself adjust.”

He held still, letting me grow accustomed to the stretch, the delicious ache of being filled. After a moment, he began to move, pumping his finger slowly in and out.

The sensation of Dorian's finger moving inside me was exquisite torture, stoking the fire in my veins to a roaring blaze. Our magic sparked and danced between us, creating patterns of silver light that spiraled around our bodies like living constellations. Each touch seemed to amplify the connection.The air grew thick with power, making even breathing feel like an act of magic.

“That's it, Ren,” Dorian murmured, his voice rough with desire. “You're doing so well, taking me so beautifully.”

His praise washed over me, making me feel cherished and sexy all at once. Emboldened, I reached for him, my fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his trousers to wrap around the hot, hard length of his cock.

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