Vengeance in His Bed

"Stop moving," Dorrent growled softly, his grip on her waist tightening until she was pinned securely against him. His hand remained flat over her lips, absorbing her furious, muffled protests. "I’m not doing anything weird, Jannah. I swear to you. I couldn’t sleep, and my mind was bothered. I just wanted to get some sleep next to you. That’s all." He paused, his eyes trying to pierce the heavy obscurity to read her posture. "Will you listen to me if I let go of your mouth? Will you stay quiet?"

For a long, tense second, Jannah remained rigid. Then, letting out an indignant breath through her nose, she gave a firm, reluctant nod of acceptance against his palm.

Slowly, Dorrent eased his hand off her lips, though his other arm remained firmly anchored around her waist, holding her close to his heat.

The moment her mouth was free, Jannah didn’t hesitate. With a twist of her hips, she yanked her leg off his thigh and pulled her arm back, creating a few inches of distance between them, though she was still trapped within the circle of his arm.

"Get out," she hissed, her voice a sharp, venomous whisper that trembled with a mixture of shock and rage. "Who the hell told you that you could just crawl into my bed in the middle of the night, you perverted monster? Get your hands off me!"

"I’m not leaving," Dorrent delivered flatly, his voice unyielding. He shifted slightly, the bandages around his torso tightening as he pulled her back just an inch. "I just thought... since we are going to be married, I should tell you some things about myself. We need to talk, Jannah."

Jannah let out a cold, cynical scoff in the obscurity. "I am not interested in a single thing you have to say about yourself, Alpha. I don’t care about your life, your thoughts, or anything about you. Go back to your own room."

"Are you really not interested?" Dorrent pushed, his voice dropping into a rough, quiet frequency that carried curiosity. "Isn’t a part of you even a little bit curious about the person who is going to be your husband? The person you will be sharing a bed with every single night for the rest of your life?"

Jannah went completely silent.

She didn’t say a word, her jaw tightening. Of course she wanted to know him. Of course a hidden, buried part of her mind burned to understand the complexities of the man who was both her executioner and her protector—but she would rather tear her own tongue out than ever admit it to his face. She would never give him the satisfaction of asking.

But before she could even formulate a cold retort to break the silence, Dorrent moved.

With a sudden, powerful surge of his arm, he pulled her body flush against his frame. Before she could react to the suffocating heat of his body, his hand shot down, wrapped firmly around her wrist, and hauled her hand downward. He forcefully placed her open palm onto the center of his trousers, right over the rigid length of his hardening manhood.

Jannah’s breath trapped itself in her throat, her eyes widening in horror as her fingers registered the scorching, pulsating heat of his erection beneath her palm.

"Why are you torturing me this way, Jannah?" Dorrent rasped out, his voice dropping into a deep, dirty, unashamed growl that vibrated against her face. His grip on her wrist held her hand locked against his length, forcing her to feel every single throb. "You know damn well what you’re doing to me. You know you won’t take care of me, yet you lie here like this, driving my system to the edge."

The full, shocking realization of her current state finally shattered through her initial confusion. She was stark naked. She was completely exposed his large, clothed frame dominated her space.

"You insane perverted bastard!" Jannah hissed, her face burning with a lethal crimson flush. With burst of energy, she raised her free left hand and hit his shoulder. "Who had invited you to my bed if not your own sick, perverted mind?! You crawled in here like a thief in the night, and now you’re blaming me for your own filth?! You can only blame yourself for your suffering! Set me free right now so I can dress up!"

"It’s too late for that," Dorrent countered smoothly, his voice thick with possessive hunger that made the air feel like liquid static. He didn’t flinch from her hit, his iron grip maintaining its hold on her waist. "The effect has already taken over my system, little physician. And I like you exactly the way you are right now. I like knowing there’s nothing between my hands and your skin."

Jannah let out a furious breath, her chest heaving against his. "Then you can only suffer alone, Dorrent! I don’t care how much pain you’re in! I am not about to be exhausted in the middle of the night just to satisfy your sick cravings! Let go of me!"

Dorrent let out a low, smooth chuckle that sounded incredibly dangerous in the dark. Slowly, he released his hold on her wrist, letting her hand drop away from his length. But before she could scramble away, his hand slid upward from her waist.

His fingers began to trace a slow path across the delicate skin of her ribs, trailing down the curved line of her flank with a burning friction.

Jannah instantly held her breath, her entire body locking into rigidity. The electric shock of his rough palm caressing her naked skin was killing her, sending a treacherous, agonizing wave of heat straight to her core. Her nerve endings screamed in a volatile conflict of hatred and undeniable arousal.

"Stop it, Dorrent," she managed to gasp out, her voice cracking as she tried to fight the sudden weakness invading her limbs. "Stop it right now..."

Dorrent didn’t listen. His hand continued its slow, deliberate descent, his fingers moving lower and lower, trailing down the smooth expanse of her hip until his knuckles brushed against the very edge of her inner thigh, mere millimeters away from her pulsing vulva. The heat radiating from his palm was suffocating.

"Are you sure about that, Jannah?" Dorrent whispered, his voice dropping into a low, predatory purr that vibrated against her lips. His knuckles nudged closer to her center, sensing the immediate, telltale spike in her pheromones. "Are you completely sure that I’m the only one who will suffer alone tonight? Because your skin feels very warm, little physician."

"Stop immediately!" Jannah shrieked in a tight, breathless whisper, her hands slamming against his wrists as she tried to forcibly halt his advance. She was terrified—that if his fingers moved a fraction of an inch further, he would feel the slick, betraying dampness of the arousal she was currently experiencing due to his proximity and the maddening heat radiating from his body. She couldn’t let him have that triumph over her. She couldn’t let the executioner know he could make her body react this way.

Dorrent paused. He felt the trembling of her frame, the panicked strength in her hands holding his wrist back. A strange, complex wave of restraint washed over him. Slowly, he stopped the movement of his hand, letting it rest flat and still against her hip, anchoring her down without pushing further.

Jannah let out a long, ragged breath, her shoulders slumping as she drew the cool air into her burning lungs. She tried to steady her voice, desperately trying to steer the dangerous dynamic away from the precipice of his desire.

"I had thought... I thought you said you wanted to tell me something about yourself," she breathed out, her tone dropping into a defensive, fragile shield to cover her shaking nerves. "You can go ahead and speak. Just keep your hands still."

Dorrent remained perfectly quiet for a long moment, the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart pressing against her side. When he finally spoke, the arrogant, teasing alpha frequency had completely vanished, replaced by a resonance that carried the weight of a long-buried past.

"Years ago," Dorrent started quietly, his voice echoing softly in the space between their faces, "long before I had been overtaken by the impotence... there had been a woman I loved very much—"

He stopped immediately.

In the blind darkness of the room, Jannah’s hand had shot upward, her palm clamped tightly over his mouth, cutting off the rest of his words before the name or the memory could even leave his lips. Her skin was shaking against his lips, her breathing shallow.

"I don’t want to listen anymore," Jannah whispered sharply into the quiet room. "I don’t care about your past. I’m sleepy."