Dorian , Lianna

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Naomi thrusts a thin, silky, light blue negligee into my hands and says, “Put this on, he’ll love it if he comes in and you’re waiting in it.” I blush hard, absolutely not wanting to think about what’s to happen when he comes in the room.

He’s still downstairs and my mother and older sister are with me in my-our, chambers, preparing me for the evening ahead.

I would not normally allow this, but I have no way of protesting.

My voice was taken from me a week ago and will only return upon the consummation of my vows.

I keep my eyes downcast, a silent plea for no eye contact. My mother and sister act as if this is the most exciting thing that will occur in my lifetime.

I disagree.

As soon as they leave I plan to put on my old night gown and lay in bed reading. I have no intentions of completing this bond now; or ever. This entire process was forced on me.

One day I’m going to pick up bread from the bakery, the next I’m marrying the bakers oldest son.

No questions, no comments, no consent.

My voice being taken from me is all part of the tradition and, oh, how my village loves traditions. The bride-to-be has her voice taken from her by the priest of the god, and it is returned once the bond of the two parties has been consummated.

It is the most embarrassing thing I could possibly think of. Let’s broadcast to the entire village exactly when a bond has been consummated, what a superb idea.

My sister sees right through my charade. I’ve stayed silent this whole time, not that I have much choice. I’ve made no move to stop them from brushing my hair, applying lip-stain, and now the scant night dress.

“Oh, don’t worry.” She drawls when she sees me eyeing the negligee. “I’ll be here right until your beloved comes up.” She tells me with a smirk, patting the cushion on the trunk at the end of the massive bed, indicating she knows exactly what I had in mind once they left.

I shake my head vigorously, tossing my chestnut locks back and forth. I indicate rather excitedly that I don’t need her to stay. She knows me too well. She refuses.

Thank the god, my mother said she was retiring to her own rooms for the night. She kisses me on the cheek, smiling as she says, “Congratulations dear, you’ll love this.” To which I make a barely concealed gagging face. My sister snickers and waves mother away, wishing her good evening before shutting the doors and pinning me with a knowing gaze.

“You are not going anywhere.” She holds up a hand, silencing my quiet plea. “This is your bonding night, Leanna. If I have anything to do with it, you’ll not leave until you have your voice back.” She says suggestively. I can’t stop the blush from staining my cheeks, but I glare at her something fierce. She just smiles back.

I walk to the desk and snatch a piece of paper and pencil.


She laughs when she reads it, no doubt imagining me say it.

“You’re right, but you can’t be silent your whole life. I’m only here to make sure you talk sooner rather than later. I only want what’s best for you.” She says, batting her eyelashes.


I’m getting desperate now, though I know Naomi can’t really do anything, nor will she.

My eyes plead the case my mouth cannot.

I know once he enters the room Naomi must leave, then it will be only him and I.

“Dorian is not so bad.” She says imploringly. I shake my head at her with a scowl.

I scribble furiously on my paper.


I pin her with a look when she looks up from the paper.

“He is only sometimes clumsy and cannot look people in the eye because he is shy, and just because he doesn’t say much does not make him stupid, you know that. You yourself are quiet when it is not just us two.” She tells me. I roll my eyes. “As for his height, you may find you like his…size, once you get in the sheets with him.” She grins evilly at me and I gasp, throwing a pillow at her. She giggles and dodges it easily, aiming to throw it back when the doors open suddenly.

We both stop mid-pose, her winding up to throw and me hiding behind the bedpost from aim.

My eyes go wide when I see him standing there and I shoot a pleading glance at Naomi as she lays the pillow back on the bed and smooths her skirts. She looks at me one last time, I shake my head ever so slightly, begging her not to leave me, but she just winks and strides from the room.

I swallow, still standing behind the post as he shuts the door behind her, locking it.

My stomach drops when I hear the bolt slide into place, trapping me in this room with him. My heart begins to beat harder and my stomach is doing odd flips.

In the time I was handed the blasted night dress and my mother left, they got me into it, somehow. I had consented easily, I thought I would have Kadıköy Escort time to change out of the ridiculous thing. I’m now left trying to hide myself behind a bedpost that is half my already small size.

I haven’t looked at him, but I notice that he hasn’t moved from the door, I chance a glance up at him.

He’s looking at me. My eyes dart away immediately, my skin crawling. He moves from the door, slowly walking toward me. I refuse to move, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an accidental flash if the thing flies about while I move.

I clutch the post for dear life, as if holding onto it will save me from his approach.

I know it won’t. Nothing will. Not even my own sister.

I’ve not met Dorian many times, and it’s hard for me to admit, but the times I did, he wasn’t all bad. It was mostly village gatherings which we met.

For all his stumbling and stuttering, he dances with ease. As if it’s the one thing he was born knowing to do.

It’s like watching as you pour water into water; the gentle glide and dip. The grace. It’s breathtaking. And out of all the girls he could ask to dance, he never had. Only ever dancing with his own sisters, occasionally his mother.

Until he asked me.

Dancing with him was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. We were well balanced and we laughed easily when I stumbled into him after a fellow dancer took a tumble. It was pleasant.

We never talked outside of these dances, not so much as a ‘hello’. I had also not found myself in his father’s shop very often. I had only wanted a sweet roll, if I had known that single sweet roll would come with being bonded to him, I would’ve said to hell with it and eaten an apple when I returned home.

Now I find myself unable to think of a single thing, no way to protest as he finally stands in front of me.

I won’t look at him, instead, study my own feet as if I’ve never seen them before.

“Leanna…” He says softly. I tense at hearing my own name, slowly looking up at him through my lashes. He knows I cannot speak, so I’ve no idea what he wants me to do. He takes my eye contact as recognition of his presence and takes my hand in his rather large, slender one, bringing it to his lips and brushing them lightly, over my knuckles. I gape at him, watching his soft lips touch my skin, melting me somewhat.

My heart stutters when I feel him slip his other hand around my waist, my breathe catching when he tugs ever so slightly, forcing me to press closer to him.

His head is already lowered from kissing my hand, but he watches me as he comes slowly closer to my face.

Our lips are a mere inch apart, I feel his cool breathe ghost over my lips, drying them. I flick my tongue out, absentmindedly wetting them again.

My thoughts are scattered, I’ve never been this close to a man before, his scent is overpowering and hypnotizing, drawing me in.

I gasp and take a step away, trying to put space between us. It doesn’t work very well when the thing you’re trying to get away from has a grip on your wrist.

I jerk my arm, but he doesn’t release me. I give a huff, frustrated at not having words to throw at him.

“Lianna.” He says it like a command and I inadvertently halt. “You’re my wife now.” My stomach clenches at these words. “I only want to enjoy my wife’s body for the first time.”

I gasp, my cheeks heating, my mind realizing that I’m very revealed in what I have on. It must be very enticing to a man who is staring at his wife. His wife, who he wants to touch, to kiss, to…oh, gods.

I shake my head, feeling silly that I can’t convey what I’m feeling.

I’m still shaking my head as he advances, pursuing me until my back hits the wall, and I’ve nowhere else to go. I look around wildly and dart to the side, meaning to go around him. His arms shoot out and grabs me, pulling me back to him. I kick my legs out, struggling to get away from his grasp.

I curse all the gods for traditions and their stupidity. I want my voice back. Without stipulations.

I give an angry growl and am surprised to hear him laugh. I scowl, not meaning to be funny, and annoyed that he’s laughing.

I open my mouth to tell him as much, and am made angry when I forget that nothing will come out, then suddenly his soft lips are pressed to mine and I let out a surprised yip.

I instinctively tense, not responding to him. I push my hands against his broad shoulders, but he holds me in a tight embrace. Throwing my head to the side to disconnect our lips, I try to catch my breathe. I’ve just been kissed, for the first time in my whole life. I’m breathing harder than I probably should from only a kiss, but my body is feeling warm all over.

His arms are still wrapped around me, keeping me close, but he doesn’t try to do anything more for the moment. I’m only slightly in shock over the kiss and I try to squirm out of his arms, agitated at being held like this.

I slip free for one fleeting moment, just enough to Ataşehir Escort clamber onto the bed.

Big mistake.

I was hoping to get to the other side, to put distance between Dorian and I.

Instead I find myself pinned to the bed, on my stomach. I yelp in surprise at the weight keeping me in place, wiggling my body underneath him. He deftly flips me over and wastes no time in bringing those lips right back to mine. He doesn’t stay for long, almost immediately moving to my cheek, down my jaw, and placing feather like kisses along my neck. They elicit soft, and very much accidental, moans from me; I’d never imagined the skin to be so sensitive.

The night dress slipped up when he pushed me into the bed and he runs his hands up my leg, making me gasp and squirm. My eyes are wide when I feel his hand reach higher and higher, soon running along the seam of my undergarment. The last layer I have protecting me, from his eyes.

I shake my head furiously when he dips his hand below the seam and runs it over the hair there, making me cry out at the intimacy of it. He pushes further in, delving a finger into the moist heat there and making me give another cry. I buck under him as lightning ignites my veins and sets me on fire.

Even though I know my voice will not be heard I shout, “Stop! Stop!” As loud as I can.

I’m not heard and he begins to rub me slowly, applying a gentle pressure. He begins to kiss my neck again, this time licking and sucking it in places, all the while rubbing me with a steady motion.

My body is feeling overpowered by all these senses, my head swimming.

I squeeze my eyes shut as he pushes more insistently and when he slowly licks the shell of my ear, it pushes me over the edge. I cry out and my legs and stomach quiver as I reach a new peak of ecstasy.

I can feel that I am wet, absolutely soaking. I’ve done this to myself before, but I’ve never orgasmed like that in my life. I inhale, the air coming out shaky and hitching.

I sit up quickly when he whispers in my ear, “Now you’re ready for me.”

I clench my muscles, springing from underneath him, painfully aware that I am exposed in almost every way, my underwear having been discarded of.

I shake my head as he hops off the bed and comes toward me. My eyebrows scrunch and I look at him imploringly, trying to get him to understand that I don’t want this. That I don’t want him. That’s hard to do when I finally get a whole three feet between us and he jumps on me again. It’s like a horrible game of tag, except he holds me down and makes me orgasm to win the game. Sick and twisted is what it is.

“You don’t need to worry, it won’t be so bad, now that you’re wet.” He explains.

What I want to know is why he knows this. I want to ask how many whores he’s given himself to, when I’ve never so much as kissed a boy until this point.

I’m near the window, I glance down and see there are still plenty of people gathered around the fire below, still enjoying the festivities of our bonding ceremony. I shake my head at the whole thing. I’m petitioning that the traditions be banished when this is over.

My focus had been too long on the people below and not enough on the man in the room with me, when I turn around he is right beside me. I jump as he reaches out for me, stumbling back from him and tripping over my own feet.

I hold my hands out in front of me, silently telling him to back off. He simply watches me with a lazy grin on his face. I frown at him and he chuckles, deep and low in his throat, making me shiver in response.

“I can see I affect you, Lianna. Stop trying to get away from me.” He says, amused.

I shake my head and he takes a step forward. I take a step back.

I watch him warily as he begins to unbutton the few buttons in the front of his shirt. I can’t help but follow his fingers as they uncover his tanned warm, tanned skin. I look up to find he’s already watching me. He knows I was watching.

I try to be inconspicuous as I look toward the adjoining bathroom, the door ajar. It’s so close, I could run there if he would only look away.

And he does, for just a moment, to undo a stubborn button, and I make a mad dash. I run full out to that open door, praying to all the gods that I can get there in time to shut the door. If I could just get inside, he couldn’t get to me, couldn’t force me to do this. No matter how attractive he is or how nice his body may be under those clothes.

I slip inside and my heart leaps, then falls as a hand slams into the door, halting it’s progress in closing. I push on it with all might, if only it would shut!

He gives a great shove and my hand slips, the door swinging open, my eyes wide as he strides right in and picks me up by the waist.

I give a startled yell as my weight is lifted up and he settles me around his middle, my legs wrapped around his hips. I can feel just how much he wants me, through his pants, which are now too tight in certain areas. Maltepe Escort I blush hard at this position, not meeting his gaze, keeping mine trained on the skin exposed at the neck of his shirt.

I won’t escape him. I can’t. He’ll take me and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

I drop my head, the fight draining from me. I still don’t want to do this, not at all, but fighting him will only make it worse, more painful even.

He has one hand around my butt, holding my weight, the other runs up my side, slipping under the night dress and running lightly over my skin. The muscles jump under his touch and I try not to make any noise as his fingers explore my body.

He roams over my ribs, tracing each one. Slowly he makes his way to my chest, I can feel my nipples hardening as he gets closer. His knuckles graze the underside of my breast, I feel my muscles tense. He moves upward, brushing the pad of his thumb over one peaked nipple. I arch my back with a gasp and he chuckles deeply.

He spins around suddenly and walks back into the room, grazing my lips with his own on the way. He then pushes harder, his tongue tracing my bottom lip. I gasp at that, opening my mouth just enough for him to shove his tongue in and caress my own with it. He retreats, nipping my bottom lip as he does, making my head dizzy. He gives a squeeze to my backside, making me jump, before he tosses me backward onto the bed.

I land with a huff and push myself back toward the headboard, watching as he undresses. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a toned chest and stomach, his arms large and strong. My stomach clenches when he moves toward his pants, unlatching his buckle and popping the button. Pulling them slowly over his hips and down his thighs, he watches me all the time. I know the man had a fit body, I never imagined I would get to see it myself. I take it in as he reveals it.

When I look up at his eyes, they are deep and dark, filled with lust.

“It’s more than a compliment that my wife would desire my body, Lianna. Though you protest, I can see you want me.” He says, his voice deep and enticing. My eyelids slide shut and I swallow.

He climbs onto the bed and crawls toward me, his muscles rolling and rippling beneath his skin. I watch him stalk me like prey, my mouth simultaneously salivating and dry as the desert. We never break eye contact, even as he straddles my legs and sits not an inch away, forcing me to lie flat on the bed.

He nuzzles my neck and kisses me gently, licking the skin before he sucks on it, hard. I have my hands on his shoulders, holding on tightly.

“I need you.” He groans in my ear, grinding his erection into my leg. I inhale sharply, pulling away from him. I shake my head at him.

“You’re my wife now, and I want to know what my wife feels like.” He says, looking right at me. My face reddens at his words and I roll to the side, away from him.

I’m on my knees and looking at him as he leans toward me, grabbing the material of the nighty. He pulls it over my head in one swift motion, leaving me completely bare. I wrap my arms around my chest, and hunch over, trying to cover myself.

He tugs me upward and pulls me into his lap, kissing me soundly on the lips. He puts my legs on either side of him. I am kneeling still, my legs on the side of his hips, dangerously close to his straining erection. He still has his underwear on, the only piece of clothing between us. I have an inclination that they won’t remain that way for long.

He kisses along my neck and whispers, “This will hurt less if you’re on your back.”

He flips us over and I’m once again laying beneath him. He hooks his fingers under the band of his underwear and pulls them down. My eyes widen and I scramble backward at my first glance of him. I pull my hands up and push against him, shaking my head vigorously, silently telling him no.

There’s absolutely no way he will fit inside me.

“Lianna, it will be fine. Just hold onto me.” He tells me soothingly. My heart is beating wildly and my hands are shaking. He takes my ankle in his hand and pulls me toward him, I whimper when he pushes my legs wide and settles between them.

He puts his hand on himself and tugs several times, I can’t help but watch. I’ve never seen this happen before, nor have I done it.

He comes forward and rubs himself on my, I close my eyes tight, not looking. I can feel him touching me with himself, lining himself up.

When he pushes into me it’s so sudden that I yelp, the burn and sting of him being inside me is immense. I feel my eyes begin to tear and I hear him groan in my ear. My hands clench at his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin.

He hasn’t moved, but now he starts to rut, just the tiniest bit of movement. I try to relax my muscles, knowing it will not feel any better if I’m tense. I go lax under him, pushing back against him tentatively.

He thrusts into me and a moan escapes me, I slap a hand over my mouth.

“No, I want to hear you. I want to hear that my wife loves my cock in her.” Fire burns through me at his words and as he thrusts again I cry out. He sets a rhythm, slowly grinding into me over and over. I can hear the slap of skin, the almost silent grunts me makes.

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