Page 91 of You Rock My World
His hands on me are a matchstick, his breath in my ear the spark that sets me alight. I want to consume him, to be consumed, to let this fire burn us both to cinders. My lips part, and I can almost taste the salt on his skin, the metallic tang of the blood that’s dried on his eyebrow.
I drag my mouth along his jaw, savoring the roughness, the tickle of his stubble.
I turn my face, my lips nearly touching his. His breath has turned uneven, his grip on me iron-tight.
When I brush my lips over his in a whisper of contact, Dorian goes still.
I lift my gaze, meeting his black-rimmed blue eyes, and in them, I see everything—the desire fighting with restrain fighting with…love.
He’s never said it, but I’ve seen it. It’s been there for a while. And I feel the same. My heart pounds so loudly that I’m sure he can feel it even through our clothes. Every rational thought screams for me to stop, to pull back, to wait. My brain scrambles to douse the flames, but it’s hopeless. The longing is too intense, the pull of him too strong. I can no longer contain the flood of feelings I have for this man. My senses are drowning in him—touch, sight, hearing, smell—the only one missing istaste.
A thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea race through my mind. He needs to get back on stage. We’re in a crowded arena in the middle ofthe last show of his world tour!We don’t have time. But neither of them is strong enough to override the singular, all-consuming need that’s taken hold of me.
He looks at me, hungry and desperate, but he’s already setting his jaw, bracing himself to pull back. And it’s that hesitation, that moment of uncertainty, that undoes me. Because if he’s holding back for my sake, I’m the only one who can tip us over the edge.
The dam of my restraint breaks. I can’t contain it anymore. The rush of emotions is too strong, too overwhelming, washing away the doubts and fears in a tsunami of pure, unfiltered desire.
I pull Dorian down to me, and finally,finally, I kiss him.
41
JOSIE
Dorian goes rigid at first. But he’s quick to catch up, and when he does, his own dam bursts, flooding me with his pent-up desire. Our mouths crash together in a collision of raw need. It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s urgent, reckless, an explosion of every suppressed feeling we’ve both been carrying. There are teeth, and there’s tongue.
The world blurs. The muffled music from the stage above, the distant roar of the crowd, fades into a background hum as every one of my senses hone in on him. His hands move from my hips up my spine, pulling me closer, crushing me against him.
He’s yanking and pushing, and we careen backward until my back hits something—poles? I can’t tell, and I don’t care. Because Dorian is kissing me.
I can feel the hard lines of his body, the rapid thump of his heart echoing my own.
Heat radiates from his skin, searing through my clothes, and I’m melting into him, losing sense of where I end and he begins. Each stroke of his tongue, each nip of his teeth sends shockwaves of electricity through me, short-circuiting my brain. Thoughts scatter, and emotions prevail.
Time stretches and distorts, an elastic band pulled to its breaking point. Seconds feel like hours, yet they pass in an instant.
Dorian growls low in his throat, and the kiss turns carnal. His hands find the hem of my dress, sneaking underneath. The rough, calloused pads of his fingers squeeze my bare thighs none too gently, and a shudder of pleasure and need rips through me.
I bite down on his lower lip, equally aggressive, and he responds with another growl that comes from deep in his chest, the sound so raw and animalistic that my grip on reality falters. Am I dreaming? But then he presses me harder against the poles, his body a solid wall of warmth and muscle, and I arch into him, craving more, remembering he’s real. And finally mine.
Dorian shifts his thigh between my legs, creating a torturous friction. I gasp into his mouth, my entire body tensing and then melting against him. The unexpected pressure makes my knees buckle, and I clutch at his shoulders, digging my nails in, desperate to steady myself as a wave of heat crashes over me.
He takes advantage of my open mouth, his tongue diving in without mercy as his hands cup my face.
The world tilts as he grinds his thigh harder against me, and my hips move, seeking more of the exquisite torment he’s inflicting. My head spins. My body loses weight. I’m flying… I’m being lifted into another dimension.
I levitate, my senses disjointed, each one firing in different directions. Air rushes past me, cool against the feverish heat of my skin. On the back of my brain, I wonder if I’ve died and gone to heaven, surfing through the clouds.
Until the jarring reality of our surroundings seeps in. Dorian’s lips are still on mine, his hands still cupping my face, but the world is no longer a blur.
The music has stopped. And the crowd that was singing along a moment ago is now mute.
The poles digging into my back start to make sense. They’re the bars of the cage Dorian uses to make his dramatic entrance for the second half of the concert.
We’re no longer under the stage. We’re kissing in front of a sold-out stadium for the entire world to see.
42
DORIAN
