- RAYA -
"Wow."
I can’t help but gape at Dex after he’s slipped into a navy suit jacket with a white dress shirt underneath and his beautiful thick hair pulled back and secured at his neck. There are two top buttons open on the dress shirt, revealing just a little bit of his chest with a long chain necklace on underneath.
I can’t imagine anyone else wearing that and pulling it off like he does. He is way too sexy and adorable and entirely his own person when it cos to clothes, and I love it. It makes ache in all the right places.
Is he really going to work like that? With all those other won at the office? I wasn’t planning on going to work today after my appointnt, but now I’m thinking that maybe I need to be there just to make sure no one else is hanging around him—like Laurel who was noticeably dressed nicer on the day when he arrived. Not that there’s anything I can do about it if she or anyone else is batting their eyelashes at him and finding excuses to appear in his office. But at least I will know. At least I will know who to project my possessive, stay-away-from-what’s-mine looks toward.
Other won already take notice of Dex everywhere he goes. I know that. Last night at the hospital was the perfect example. Obviously they weren’t terribly busy in the ergency room, because there were no less than four nurses frequenting the room to view the injury to his arm and ask questions about how he received it. It didn’t matter if I was next to his side—if his non-injured arm was curled around my waist while we were waiting. They still flocked to him, giggling at his jokes, pretending I wasn’t there.
It didn’t bother at the ti. It’s actually quite amusing. I know how good-looking this man is, but I also know how deeply connected I feel to him. So other won don’t feel like a threat—especially when he was constantly kissing my hand and my arm and my shoulder and making sure I was close to him the whole ti we were in the exam room, repeatedly reaching for , caressing , playing with my fingers, seeking my eyes.
But there is sothing about seeing him in a suit jacket this morning, preparing to leave for work—the widow’s peak of his hair line framing his beautiful tan face and the slightly rugged appearance of his beard paired with this sleek, professional look of the suit jacket and perfectly tailored pants. I don’t think my heart can take it. I’m not sure I can handle seeing other won fawning over him.
"Does it look okay?" He walks to the mirror with those adorably tented questioning eyebrows.
"It looks horrible. Where are your holey shirts?"
He chuckles, adjusting the jacket—his reflection smiling at .
"It just feels a little different today knowing Lawson won’t be there," he says, returning to his closet for shoes. "I want everyone to know I’m taking this position seriously. Suits aren’t my favorite, and you’ll never catch with a tie, but I want everyone to know I own one, if that makes sense. I’m not afraid to wear it. I can represent the company professionally in appearance if needed."
"You’re worried about what others think?"
"Yes and no."
He sits on the bed and bends to put his shoes on, and I can’t help but imagine the way I know his muscles to be underneath the clothes—the flex of his arms, the ladder of muscles along his sides, the broad curves and ridges of his back. At least those aren’t on display. At least I am the one who gets to know what it feels like to be the recipient of their gentle power when his naked body is blanketed over , seeking to beco one with mine.
Fresh mories from last night resurface... our tangled, slippery arms and legs, the perfection of his hips that find their ho against mine, the feeling of us colliding and of him buried deep inside, the growls that call to only ...
"What are you thinking about?" Dex smirks, casting those beautiful honey brown eyes my way. I’ve been caught. "What you think is what I care about most, principessa. And I know that look." He leans over and kisses on the nose, one hand caressing my cheek and feeling the way it has heated imagining him making love to again.
"I’m thinking about coming into work today," I say quietly. It’s a truth and a lie. I’m thinking about coming, that’s entirely true. And I’m thinking of being in the office to guard what’s mine.
Dex sighs and kisses , and then whatever distressing thought has crossed his mind to elicit the sigh is forgotten, and he slides closer, his fingers threading into my hair and tongue delving in deeper. I whimper at the sudden intensity of his tongue and his desire that is fed to —offered in deep portions by his mouth.
"Don’t whimper," he growls and then returns to my mouth—teeth gliding against my lips, threatening to eat . He can eat if he wants.
His hand slides under the blanket, finding the other mouth that is hungry for him—that is aching to receive sothing deep of its own. His fingers slide in, thumb teasing the bundle of nerves above, and I gasp against him. He beckons sothing wild out of with the sensuous movent of his fingers, and before I know it, I’m bucking and rolling my hips with a long, sultry moan that I don’t even recognize as my own.
"That’s right, principessa," he says, kissing again and holding my moans captive until I’m finally raked with tremors—shaking uncontrollably with his hand still gripping , playing like an instrunt that exists for only him.
Dex lays down against the pillow, his kisses and strokes more gentle now in the aftermath of my climax, but I’m still trembling, still unable to withhold the whimpers he has told not to make.
"You’re mine," he whispers, breathless just like even though he wasn’t the recipient of this. "You’re mine, Auraya. Understand?" There’s sothing intensely demanding about his words—a primal need to hear that I agree to this statent.
I nod, not able to say anything. And then, before I know it, he has thrown the covers back and is pushing my legs apart, tasting the product of his love and making whimper even more—my hands curling into fists in the sheets.
"Oh my god, Dex," I pant, torn between pressing my legs back together to keep him out and completely falling open to him—letting him have full access to do whatever he wants. "What are you doing?"
My hips arch off of the bed and then fall, and his mouth stays on the whole way—eating alive just the way I thought to myself that he could. His growl vibrates against the most sensitive point, and I cry out—taken clear to the next peak of an even larger wave of sensation until I can’t even see. It’s only stars—the whole room is only stars, and I’m falling back down through the sky, slowly returning to earth and the kisses he is now covering my face with.
"That’s what you get for saying I love you first," he says in a deep rumble against my ear. "That’s payback."
"Payback?" I pant, still suspended in ecstasy.
"That’s right."
Dex kisses my nose once more and then covers back up with the sheet, winking at when he stands. He rakes a hand over his beard, smiling as his gaze lingers like he doesn’t want to walk away.
"Fuck, I’m going to be thinking about this all day," he chuckles with an underlying groan. "And I get to sll like you."
"Good," I smile, sitting up and holding the sheet in place like he didn’t just see in my entirety—all of , even the embarrassing parts. "Maybe that will keep all the won away."
He growls and leans to kiss again. "You have nothing to worry about, my love. There is only you."
"I’ll pay you back later," I whisper, smiling against his lips.
"Pay back? What did I do?"
"Everything right."
Dex hovers there, a breath away from while we both smile at each other like love drunk fools. Now I understand what that expression ans. I am definitely drunk on his love. There is no question, and I’ll never be able to get enough.
"Call and let know how your appointnt goes," he says softly.
"I’ll let you know in person."
"Raya..."
"I’m fine to co in to work if you are. I don’t even care if Lawson is there. As long as you’re there too, I can handle it." I run my thumb over his lips, noticing the way his eyes soften at my touch. "You make feel safe."
"Why don’t you wait and see what the doctor says?" He offers gently.
"He’s going to say it’s miraculous—I’m cured," I giggle. "And when he asks what I have been doing to take care of myself, my answer is simple: Dex Mobius."
He chuckles, shaking his head. Then he cups my face and kisses again.
"I love you, Raya," he says against my lips.
"I loved you first, Dex."
"You want to punish you more, is that it?" His eyebrows shoot up. "You did not love first."
"I dreamt of you first."
"Fine. I’ll give you that, but it’s not the sa."
When he kisses again, I begin to wonder if he’s ever going to be able to bring himself to leave.
"You better go, boss."
He growls and tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth before finally making his way to the bedroom door. "If you do co to work, let’s have lunch."
"I would love that."
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