Chapter 41

AMARA’S POV***

He didn't answer my question. Only looked at me like he would burn the earth to the ground.

His mouth hovered near my ear.

“You want to act like a brat?” he murmured. “Then I’ll treat you like one.”

I stiffened. “I’m not acting like anything.”

His grip tightened slightly.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because tonight you danced like you didn’t know who you belonged to.”

I clenched my jaw.

Oh.

So that was what this was. 

Jealousy.

And for some reason, it made me even angrier.

I pushed lightly against his chest. “Put me down.”

“No.”

I glared at him. “You can’t grab a woman like this when you have a fiancée.”

His entire face shifted, his voice dropped into something colder.

“I don’t have a fiancée.”

I laughed, but it wasn’t real. It was bitter.

“Oh, right. Of course. And I also hallucinated the part where she sat on your desk and introduced herself like she owned you.”

His expression tightened.

“Sofia is not my fiancée.”

I stared at him. “Then what is she?”

“She’s my childhood friend,” he said. “She’s always been dramatic.”

I scoffed. “You bet.”

Dorian’s eyes narrowed.

“She lied.”

“And you didn’t stop her fast enough,” I snapped.

Silence.

The air between us thickened.

Dorian stared at me for a long moment, then his voice came out rougher.

“I will never lie to you.”

I hated that my heart still listened to him even when my pride was screaming. I looked away first.

“Whatever,” I muttered. “I’m not doing this mixed signal nonsense with you. If you want me, then act like it. Stop moving like a confused teenager.”

His grip shifted. He carried me toward one of the lounge chairs and sat down—still holding me.

I tried to slide off his lap. His lips brushed my ear.

“Stay put,” he whispered. “Don’t move.”

My body froze instantly.

Goodness. My chest rose as my heartbeat turned reckless.

His mouth moved closer. His voice was quiet but deadly.

“You go around giving hungry men what’s mine?”

I pulled back slightly, staring at him. “I’m not yours to own.”

His eyes burned into mine.

“Yes,” he said, voice low. “You are.”

I laughed again, breathless this time. “You’re insane.”

He leaned forward, his tongue tasting my neck.

“Until I say otherwise,” he murmured.

My entire body reacted. A soft sound slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

His hand slid up my back, holding me tighter.

“Then what am I to you?” I whispered, my voice suddenly weaker than I wanted.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his lips sucked on my neck, slower this time. More deliberate.

And I hated myself for the way my body melted against him. I grabbed his shirt, my fingers tightening.

“Dorian…” I breathed, frustrated. “I’m not a toy. I’m not something you touch when you’re bored and ignore when you’re done.”

His eyes lifted to mine. Dark. Intense.

“I’m not bored,” he said. “And you're not a thing.”

Then his hand slid to my waist, guiding my hips against him. Slowly.

My breath hitched.

I could feel how hard he was through his clothes, and it sent heat flooding through my entire body.

My lips parted.

A loud sound escaped me. Dorian’s gaze hardened.

“Not a sound,” he warned. “If anyone hears you… you’ll regret it.”

I swallowed hard, nodding without thinking.He watched me like he liked that. Then he leaned in, mouth at my ear.

“You’re going to behave,” he murmured. “And you’re going to remember who you belong to.”

My eyes fluttered shut. And I hated how much I wanted to believe him. I moved again without thinking, grinding against him.

His hand gripped my throat—not tight, just firm enough to remind me he could control me if he wanted.

My breath stuttered. His lips brushed my jaw.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

I forced my eyes open.

He stared straight into me, like he was carving his name into my skin.

He grazed my hardened nipple. Squeezing and pinching. I flinched at the pain. Then he sucked it through the fabric, massaging with his tongue. He took both breasts in his hands. Rubbing and massaging.

His hand slid lower, pressing against my pussy through the thin fabric of my bikini.

I gasped. His mouth curved slightly.

“You’re already so wet?” he murmured. “I’ve barely touched you.”

I bit my lip hard, trying not to react. But I couldn’t.

Not with him. Not with the way he was looking at me.

Then he rubbed me. Moving back and forth. I wanted his bare hands.

“Dorian… please…”

I didn't care that this was crushing my pride, I just wanted pressure there. Anything.

He smirked. “Ride my hands.”

It wasn't what I wanted but I could manage. I moved faster, desperation rising in my chest. My breathing became uneven. My fingers dug into his shoulders.

I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I was almost there, about to cum.

Then suddenly— His hand pulled away.

My eyes snapped open.

“What—?” I whispered, breathless. “Why did you stop?”

Dorian stood up, lifting me off his lap and setting me down like I was nothing. My legs shook beneath me.

I almost stumbled.

I caught myself on the chair, panting, my skin burning, my mind spinning.

Dorian adjusted his shirt slowly, calm as if he hadn’t just ruined my entire ability to think.

I stared at him, furious.

“You did all that…” my voice cracked, humiliatingly soft. “And you didn’t let me finish?”

For the first time, he smiled. A real smile. I saw a dimple. It made him look like trouble in human form.

“That’s what you get,” he said, voice smooth, “for dancing on another man’s lap.”

I stared at him, breathing hard, completely wrecked.

“You’re unbelievable,” I whispered.

He leaned down slightly, his eyes locking onto mine.

Then he said, quietly…

“Help yourself out.”

And he walked away.

Just like that.

Leaving me there, shaking, aching, humiliated…

And wanting him so badly it felt like I might break.