Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 63

Chapter 63: A Matter of Physical Convenience

The door to Dorrent’s private quarters swung inward with a casual, familiar weight that only one person in the estate dared to apply.

Dorrent stood near the edge of his bed, having just stepped out of the adjoining master bath. He had already showered, thoroughly scrubbing the scent of the garage and the sticky, sweet evidence of Jannah’s sudden responsiveness from his skin, and had changed into a loose, dark silk nightgown that hung broadly over his corded shoulders.

Shadron strolled into the room without an ounce of hesitation, his hands casually shoved into his trouser pockets as he looked around. "Where exactly is the little physician right now?" Shadron asked, his silver-haired brow arching with an annoying, relentless curiosity. "What is she doing down in the East Wing after a marathon like that?"

Dorrent didn’t look up as he adjusted the collar of his gown. "She is in her quarters. She is probably nursing herself."

Shadron let out a low, disapproving whistle, leaning his broad frame against the pillars of the bed. "Damn, Dorrent. You were seriously that rough to her? You need to go slow on the girl, my friend. She is absolutely tiny compared to an S-tier beast like you. You’re going to break her if you keep driving like a maniac."

"Do not stand in my bedroom and lecture me about how to fuck a woman, Shadron," Dorrent growled, his deep voice dropping into a flat, dangerous register as his eyes finally snapped up to glare at his best friend. "To be completely direct with you, Jannah seems to thoroughly enjoy it when I am rough with her. Her body handles it perfectly fine."

Shadron raised his hands, a wicked, playful smirk cutting into his handsome features. "Alright, alright. If you say so. Maybe I should just go to her room and help her with nursing herself tonight. A little company might ease the ache."

A sudden, terrifyingly deep growl ripped straight from the depths of Dorrent’s chest, his S-tier Alpha aura flaring with an instant, possessive hostility that turned the air in the room completely freezing. "You will stay exactly where you are," Dorrent hissed, his knuckles whitening. "She is a specialized herbalist. She knows perfectly well how to take care of her own body without your interference."

Shadron’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a sharp, analytical focus as he studied his friend’s intense, overly defensive reaction. He took a step closer, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know, Dorrent... I’m genuinely confused here. Why exactly are you having intensive, unhinged sex with a girl from the slums anyway? I thought you completely disliked that filthy lower sector and its people. You’ve spent years telling me how much you despise the unwashed classes, and you literally told me yourself just a month ago that this exact girl was filthy and dirty."

Dorrent froze for a fraction of a second, his jaw clenching. Deep within his chest, his pride fiercely guarded the humiliating, agonizing secret he had kept hidden from the entire world for five long years. He had never told Shadron that he was suffering from total, biological impotence. He had never admitted to a soul that his system was entirely dead inside, and that Jannah was the absolute, singular biological frequency in this entire city capable of making him erect. He had absolutely zero intention of letting his oldest friend know the truth of his vulnerability.

Forcing his corporate mask back into place, Dorrent let out a cold, dismissive scoff. "She is filthy," Dorrent stated flatly, his voice dripping with a forced condescension to throw Shadron off the scent. "But she happens to be exactly my type physically. She is exceptionally pale, slender, and remarkably curvy in the right places. It is purely a matter of physical convenience."

Shadron’s eyebrows shot up in complete disbelief. "Your type? What about Joanne, then? She is the absolute, total opposite of every single quality you just mentioned in Jannah. Joanne is heavily tanned, a bit thick, and carries herself like a high-born warrior. If Jannah is your type, then what is Joanne?"

Dorrent turned his back to his friend, walking over to the wide glass terrace doors to stare out into the dark estate compound. "Joanne is also okay," he muttered loosely. "She fits her role."

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