Satiated, I close my eyes and drowse against Dorian's warmth.
Brushing my hair aside with a soft chuckle when I sigh contentedly, he nuzzles my neck. "Is it always that way?"
Speechless, I turn my head to look at him. "I—what? What do you mean 'is it always that way'?"
Inside me, his softening length twitches, rising slightly even though he hadn't shrunk much. I shiver and whisper a moan with the aftershock, and the grassy-woodsy-vanilla scent of him spices the air. Then he does something I don't expect.
He blushes to his hairline.
"I thought I'd be sated," he admits. "That this crawling, clawing desire you arouse in me—the rampaging heat—that if I could have you, even once, I'd be better—in better control of myself around you."
"That the toxins would vacate the building?" I offer with a grin.
