Vengeance in His Bed

The implication hung in the air for less than a second before Dorrent moved.

Disregarding the pain in his torso entirely, his arm shot out like a striking viper. His fingers caught her firmly by the chin, forcing her to lean forward, locking her face directly in front of his. His eyes burned into hers with an intensity that was almost frightening in its sincerity.

"How can I go around seeking a mate," he whispered, his voice vibrating with an intense, heavy gravity that pressed against her chest, "when I already have you?"

Jannah’s breath caught for a fraction of a second under the weight of his gaze. The declaration hung heavily between them, warm and suffocating. But she forcibly tore through the spell, her eyes hardening as she remembered exactly who he was.

"Oh," she gasped out, a sharp, mocking smile twisting her lips as she twisted her chin out of his grasp. "Too bad. I had completely forgotten that you can’t even manage a mate with your impotence."

Dorrent’s expression went utterly dark. The dangerous, primal S-tier Alpha in him surged to the surface. Without warning, he grabbed her wrist again, yanked her forward until she was flush against the edge of the mattress, and gripped the hem of her shirt.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice a lethal, low vibration that made the air in the room feel heavy. His eyes were fixed on hers, unblinking and entirely serious. "Strip right now and let me show you exactly how impotent I am."

"Fuck off!" Jannah hissed, slapping his hands away from her clothes and taking a sharp step back, her breath coming in fast, angry pants. She glared at him, her chest heaving. "If it wasn’t for your impotence, Dorrent, I know exactly what kind of man you’d be. With that perverted brain of yours, you would be in a strip club somewhere right now, fucking a different woman every night."

Dorrent leaned back against the pillows, a dark, complex expression crossing his face as he watched her furious tirade. "Would you have allowed me?" he asked quietly, the question loaded with a strange curiosity.

"Allowed you?" Jannah let out a cold, sharp laugh, her arms wrapping tightly over her chest as if protecting herself from the memory. "Two months ago, you wouldn’t have even looked my way, Dorrent. You have always seen me as nothing but a gutter rat. A filthy peasant from the lower sectors. The only reason you even look at me now is because I’m the only woman in this entire city that your broken body can actually erect for."

"You’re mistaken," Dorrent said instantly, his voice cutting through her words with certainty. He stared at her, the mask of detachment completely shattered, leaving only honesty. "You are completely mistaken, Jannah. I would still smash you even if I could still fuck anyone else."

Jannah froze, her eyes widening slightly. "Liar," she spat out, though her voice lacked its previous venom. "You told me I wasn’t your type. You dismissed me for a whole month!"

"I said that because I was terrified," Dorrent confessed, the words ripping out of his throat as he finally laid his pride bare. He stared at her, his eyes wide and intense. "I had been desiring you from the very first time I saw you. I only said those things because I was afraid that if I got close to you, I wouldn’t be able to give you the sex that I so badly craved from you. I was terrified that you would be disappointed in me not being able to erect. That’s why I created a wall between us. That’s why I called you filthy—to keep you away, to protect my own pathetic pride until the day you finally touched my cock and made me hard."

The confession fell into the room like a physical weight, shattering the silence.

Jannah stood completely paralyzed, her breath trapped in her throat. She looked at the intimidating man sitting on the bed—the same arrogant billionaire who had called her trash, who had treated her like an infection for a whole month, dismissing her touch during her medical treatments. A sudden, strange warmth bloomed deep inside her chest, a dizzying, involuntary wave of happiness realizing that he had desired her for her, long before he ever found out she was the cure to his affliction.

But the moment the warmth spread, a cold, terrifying realization slammed into her mind. He killed your parents. The phantom scent of blood and the memory of her ruined childhood rushed back, freezing the budding emotion instantly. She shouldn’t feel this way towards him. She couldn’t.

"You’re crazy," she whispered, her voice shaking as she forcibly dismissed the warmth, her face hardening into a defensive mask.

Dorrent didn’t back down. A faint, wicked smile touched his lips, his eyes locked onto hers. "I am proud to be crazy... but only for you."

Before she could speak, he leaned forward again, his gaze dropping to the floor for a brief second before returning to her face. "And about me going to a strip club... maybe I could have done that five years ago. But right now, Jannah, I couldn’t do it even if my body suddenly functioned perfectly for every other lady’s touch."

Jannah frowned, her curiosity getting the better of her defensive wall. "Why?"

"Because only you taste ecstatic," Dorrent said, his voice dropping into a deep, dirty, unashamed purr that made the temperature in the room skyrocket. He locked his eyes onto her lips, his expression predatory. "It’s like your vagina is made of pure sweetness. It drives me completely insane every single time I’m inside you—"

"Enough!" Jannah gasped, her face flushing crimson as she rushed forward and clamped her hand tightly over his mouth, cutting off his scandalous words. Her heart was hammering against her ribs. "Enough! I don’t want to hear another word out of your perverted mouth!"

Dorrent didn’t move, his lips pressing against the palm of her hand, his silver eyes flashing with dark amusement and hunger above her fingers.

Jannah yanked her hand back, spinning on her heel. "I’m leaving. I need to get ready to head to the city square for my side gig."

She took two steps toward the door, but she never made it.

With a sudden, explosive burst of movement that defied his injuries, Dorrent lunged from the bed. His arms wrapped around her waist from behind, lifting her slightly off her feet. Jannah let out a sharp cry as he hauled her backward, sinking onto the edge of the mattress and pulling her down flush into his lap, trapping her against his chest.

"You can’t leave," Dorrent whispered hotly against the shell of her ear, his arms locking around her like steel bands, anchoring her hips onto his lap. "Not when I was just getting started mentioning exactly what stands out on you unlike any other woman I’ve ever been with."

"Dorrent, let me go!" she protested, squirming against him, but her movements only pressed her deeper into his heat.

Slowly, deliberately, his hands slid up from her waist, moving until they cupped the full, soft weight of her breasts through her shirt. His thumbs swept across the apex of the fabric, feeling the immediate reaction of her body.

"Look at this," Dorrent rasped, his breath hot against her neck as he squeezed her gently. "I love the fullness of them. And I love how these gorgeous nipples grow so hard whenever I tease them like this."

Jannah’s breath hitched, a dangerous tremor of arousal shooting through her. Fighting the sudden weakness in her limbs, she grit her teeth, grabbed his wrists, and forcibly wrenched his hands off her breasts, holding them down away from her body. She tilted her head back, glaring up into his hooded, heavy eyes with determination.

"Stop it, Dorrent," she commanded, her voice tight, breathless, and laced with a sharp, final warning. "Stop right now if you actually want to recuperate well."