Page 42 of The Imaginary Friend's Obsession

As his mouth moves down to my neck, I catch another glimpse of myself in the mirror behind him. My hair is askew and my lips parted as I pant. As Dorian bites a sensitive spot on my neck, I cry out and watch through heavily lidded eyes as the red marks appear on my skin. God, it’s hot, watching myself be ravished like this.

I feel so held, so cherished in his arms, yet still I want more. I want all of him. I want to show him that all of me still belongs to him. I want to know that our bodies still fit like we were made for each other.

Right now, I don’t care about how I look in the mirror, or about Ezra finding out about this, or even whether or not Dorian is a murderer. Because I have never felt anything as right as being held by him. This is how it was. This is how it should be. The two of us, forever entwined, never to be separated.

“I miss you so much,” I groan as his tongue trails down my neck. I missed him before I remembered him. Even when I thought I was insane, I could feel that a piece of myself was missing, and here it is.Dorian, my Dorian.

He breathes against my skin, inhales the scent of me, and then rips my panties straight off. He crumples them in his fist and shoves them into his pocket before I can protest. “You have no idea,” he whispers through the radio as his fingers slide inside of me. I can feel the heat of him through the leather gloves. His voice is so much clearer now, barely a crackle of static to it. “I thought of you every day, every minute, every second. Even when I didn’t know myself, I knew you.”

I whimper as his fingers work inside of me, stretching me out, effortlessly finding the spot that makes me gasp and writhe. “Take me,” I say. “Take all of me, I’m yours.”

“Mine,” he echoes. Two of his hands pull off his belt while he continues to fuck me slowly with his fingers. I fumble with his buttons as he kicks his shoes off. Soon he’s long and lean and gloriously naked over me, except for his mask and his gloves. He pulls his fingers out of me, and my whimper of protest dies away as a long tongue slides out of the hole in his mask to lick them clean.

My gaze darts between his mouth and his cock—

Cocks, that is.

I blink, a strangled noise escaping me as I take in the sight. Two cocks, both of them hard and ready and terrifying in their size. I don’t know why that shocks me more than the four arms, except that I know that every time his body has changed, it’s been—

“For me,” I whisper, wrapping a hand around one thick shaft and giving him an experimental stroke. Dorian gasps, thrusting into my hand.

“Always,” he pants through the radio. “Only for you.”

I bite back a whimper as I reach with my other hand to stroke both of his lengths at once. He grips the table so hard, the metal groans, his head falling forward and his eyes shutting in bliss.

“I’ve always been everything you need,” he pants. “Allthat you need.”

“Yes,” I whisper, drinking in the sound of his voice, the sight of his pleasure.

But when he opens his eyes and looks down at me, there’s a vulnerability in his gaze, too.

“You still are,” I promise him, realizing what he’s after. “You’re the only one. Always and forever.”

“Tell me he’s nothing.”

It takes me a moment to remember who he’s even talking about. “He’s nothing,” I say, burying a hint of guilt as I think of Ezra’s late nights helping me, everything he’s risking for us.

“I hate watching him with you,” Dorian confesses, a raw note in his voice that makes him sound more human than ever. “While I’m trapped in here— While I can’t—”

“Stop it.” I squeeze both of his cocks hard enough that he grunts in surprise, hips jerking. I look up at him, holding his gaze. “Stop talking about him. I’m here. This is about us.”

He breathes shakily. Nods.

But just as I’m finding a rhythm again, Dorian pushes my hands away and spreads my thighs, lining one of those stiff lengths up with the wet heat of my core. He strokes the other slowly.

My breath hitches. I want this so badly, I’m dripping for it, but still… “You’re so big,” I whisper. “I don’t know if I can…”

“You can take me,” he promises, before I can even finish. He lifts my chin with one finger, looking me in the eyes. But though he said it like a fact, there’s a question in his gaze.

I swallow and nod. I always thought I was a virgin, but…there’s a sense of rightness, a flicker of familiarity, as he slides the head of his cock against my slick need. My body remembers him, even though our past is lost to the void of my memories.

And of course, how could Dorian be anything but perfect for me?

I tremble and arch as his fingers slide down the notches of my spine. My legs part wider, ready for him.

He yanks me to the edge of the table, and then he’s pushing against me, working himself into me inch by inch, stretching me out until I am full to the brim.

A perfect fit. Like he was—

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