Dorian Booktok Novels & Stories

Hello my beautiful readers! So I got a lot of your messages about not been able to find the book two of A Night With The Billionaire. And here's my good news! It's finally available on the app. The book two which title I have changed to Hating The Billionaire can now be found on the app. You can Search for HATING THE BILLIONAIRE to get it or just click on my Writer's profile icon which you can find if you're on A Night With The Billionaire.

weeks ago Dorian was alive, living his best life with Rebecca. Dorian was an asshole who kept a lot of shit from his wife, more than he ever should have. but ultimately he made her happy and in her blinded happiness she never knew his secrets and he never knew that it would all come to a quick halt in a short time. I looked at her a little more and seen that she was pulling herself together as fast as I was watching her fall apart.

As bad as I want to punch him in the nose for being a pompous ass, I love Daphne and I am going to try to make this work. “Why don’t you have a seat Dorian, would pastrami sandwiches on rye work for you?” Even Theo is shocked that I am being this calm, I just hope that Daphne realizes how much I love her. Dorian thinks about it a moment, but eventually pulls out a chair around the island and sits down. I start getting ingredients out of the fridge and placing them on the counter. “So, Dorian tell me about California, and the Cedar Wood pack. How are things going down there?” I find that most people let out small details when they start talking about themselves and I am very interested in Dor

Everything felt poisoned. “I would die before I’d hurt you,” he said. Quiet. Steady. “But I can’t promise I didn’t hurt him.” Her eyes burned. “I just want my brother back.” “And I want you to survive long enough to see him again.” His phone buzzed. An encrypted CainTech channel. Only one person used this line: Dorian. He answered. “Where is he?” Adrian snapped. Dorian’s voice was calm. Almost gentle. “Still recovering. Still useful. You’ll see him soon enough.”

Tease you with my tongue until you’re leaking. Dorian: You’re killing me. Dorian: I’m hard just reading this. My hand was already under my waistband, stroking myself through my boxers. Me: Good. Me: I’d deepthroat you. Let you fuck my face. Grab my hair and use me like you own me. Dorian: I do own you. Dorian: I’d flip you over after. Spread those pretty cheeks. Eat you out until you’re dripping and whining. Dorian: Then slide in raw. Pound you into the mattress. Make you come untouched.

he said, voice low and dangerous, “that Nightshade didn’t just survive the last war - we came out stronger. They think I’ve softened because I’ve bonded. I want them close when they realize that bond made me more dangerous.” I swallowed, not out of fear - but something darker. Something warmer. Something hungry. He was terrifying like this. Focused. Calculating. But it was also… seductive. This was the Dorian no one saw unless he let them. And I liked him this way. “And if they try something?” I asked. Dorian’s mouth curved. “They’ll get one chance. No more.” He moved to the stack of invitations, pulling one aside. The wax seal was already prepared, the parchment heavier than the others. Sh

To give her this. She glanced across the dim space. Dorian stood shirtless at the window, back turned, muscles taut with something more than exhaustion. Rage? Guilt? She couldn’t tell anymore. “You haven’t said anything,” she whispered. He didn’t move. She stood. “Dorian.” “I’m thinking,” he said without turning. “No,” she said quietly. “You’re disappearing.” He exhaled hard through his nose, then turned toward her. His eyes were dark. “Do you understand what this book is, Isolde? There are names in here that would start wars. Names that would end us.”

Not just for my freedom, but for my own survival. But before I could put my plan into action, the next day came and Dorian returned. He opened the door and stood in the doorway. Something was profoundly wrong. In one hand, he held my book of witchcraft. In the other, the voodoo doll I had used to enchant him… And at his waist, a gun I had never seen before. “I read your book,” he said, his voice strangely calm, without the usual anger. “Every page. Every spell, every ritual.”

Harold stammered, trying to sound like a student found smoking in the school environment was something that happened everyday. “You're cool,” the student said with eyes of administration as he walked to Harold. His breath as he neared Harold was choky but he, Harold, didn't say or do anything. “My name is Drew and I'm a vampire. That explains why this room is —” he looked around the room in one glance then back at Harold “— this way.” He expected a verbal response from Harold and when there was none, he continued. “We can make some changes in here if that's what you'll like.” He took in long, deep breath and out, causing the smoke to make his voice not too visible.

"I have something that might actually help you instead of just offering empty comfort." I wanted to refuse and walk out that front door, but the truth was I had nowhere else to go. Danika wasn't answering my calls and I couldn't return to Jason's house after Chloe's cruel words this morning, so I followed Dorian back into the study even though every instinct told me this was a terrible idea. "Sit," Dorian instructed as he pointed to one of the leather chairs. I sat down slowly, watching him walk to a large bookshelf against the far wall. He pulled out a thick manila folder and returned to hand it to me, then he settled into the chair across from mine and waited for me to open it.