He’s looking back at me tenderly. ‘Yes, you may.’
Within a moment, I’ve opened his trousers and let his cock spring free from his boxers. It’s as beautiful as I remembered and I can’t stop myself leaning forward to take it in my mouth, holding the hot, hard shaft in my hand as I run my tongue over its smooth top. I want to take its entirety into my mouth but he’s far too big for that, and he’s swelling even more as I let my lips slide up and down the length as far as I can. It’s joyous to feel it again and to love it with my mouth. My other hand slides beneath him into the warmth below, and I cup his balls, moving them gently in my palm. He groans and puts a hand on my head, running his fingers through my hair and pressing me gently so that I increase the pressure on his rock-hard penis. I suck and lick with relish, not wanting to let him out of my longing mouth, carrying on until he gently pulls my head away and tilts it up towards him. He takes my hands and lifts me up, then wraps his arms around me and pulls me tight into his embrace. At last, his lips find mine and we’re kissing feverishly, deeply, as though we’re dying with need for one another. His tongue takes possession of my mouth, finding mine, and I respond with everything inside me. His taste is divine and the sensation of our mouths meeting is like heavenly completion. There can’t be kisses better than this, that feel so perfect, so intensely right, like two halves of a whole being reunited. As we kiss he pulls me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him, one leg on either side of his. With fierce excitement I can feel his hard cock pressing against the front of my sex. I thrust forward a little so that the shaft is right against my clitoris that’s now swollen and desperately sensitive. The delicious sensation makes me kiss him harder, and I dig my fingers into his hair. He knows what he’s doing to me and he moves his hips subtly so that his penis carries on giving me buzzes of powerful electricity every time it touches my sweet spot.
I feel as though I could come in a second, just from the pleasure of our passionate kisses and the smell of his skin. The almost unbearable pressure of his cock on my clit is close to sending me spiralling over the edge but I don’t want that yet. I don’t want this pleasure to end, and I don’t want to come before I’ve felt his penis deep inside me, pushing me to the very brink. I know he wants the same.
I lift myself up and reach down to hold his penis. I tilt it forward so that its tip is angled towards me and then, very gently, I lower myself down on it, finding the entrance as I go. It goes perfectly to the place – I knew we were made for each other – and with a moan I let myself sink down, slowly engulfing him and savouring the pleasure of feeling myself open to take his hot girth. Dominic groans and exhales as his cock pushes upwards inside me.
‘Oh God, that’s good,’ he says. His eyes are burning with the strength of his lust and then he’s kissing me again as I begin to move my hips so that he thrusts deeper and deeper. ‘Oh . . . Rosa,’ he murmurs between kisses. He reaches down and lifts my dress up and over my head, discarding it on the floor, then covers my breasts in burning kisses, stopping to tug gently on my nipples. They light a hot path to my groin as he sucks and pulls on one, stroking the other with his fingers. I throw my head back and sigh with delight as I feel his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. He runs his fingers down my belly, strokes my bottom, grasps me hard so that he can use his strength to push me up and down on his penis. I want him completely inside me, as deep as he can go, I feel as though I can never get enough of him. I’m frenzied by the pleasure of having his body joined to mine once more, when I was so afraid I might never have him again. Suddenly I feel him holding me tightly and his thighs go like iron as he summons his strength and stands up, lifting me with him, his cock still inside me. I wrap my legs around him, kissing wildly – his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids – as he carries me easily across the room to the bed. He lowers me down so that I’m lying on my back, and I open my legs as far as I can so that he can stay inside me as he lowers himself between them. He grabs my wrists in one hand and holds them tightly above my head as he begins to thrust fiercely, his hips moving in a strong rhythm as he plunges into me as hard as he can.
Each thrust makes me gasp out loud and each time he grinds down on me he’s pushing me a little closer to the edge as he rocks down onto my clitoris and presses deep into my pleasure zone.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he says, breathless, as he gazes down at me. ‘You’re never more gorgeous than when we’re fucking.’
‘Don’t stop, don’t stop,’ I beg, feeling the joyful abandon getting nearer. The blissful sensations are building, the grip around my wrists is tight and exciting. I feel utterly open to him as I stretch below him, his chest hard against my breasts, my sex surrendering to his pounding manhood.
I feel him swelling within me and the knowledge that he’s going to come sets off my own desperate excitement. I thrust my hips up to meet him, pressing my clit up to meet his thrusts and as he groans with his approaching orgasm I feel my own triggered deep inside me and I am helpless to resist the wave of pleasure that engulfs me, and I stiffen and cry out under the rush of feeling that sweeps over me. I buck and twist, still moaning, still desperate to find those final thrusts that will keep the juddering pleasure rocking through me, and I feel Dominic arch his back and stiffen as he pours out a fierce orgasm.
We are left gasping in each other’s arms, Dominic heavy but delicious on my chest, his panting in my ear. My hands are free again, and I run them over his smooth back. No unexplained weals there this time, I note with relief. His breathing slows and he turns to kiss me, lingering on my lips and then nuzzling into my neck.
‘That was beautiful, Rosa,’ he murmurs.
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I think you’re going to make a most promising maid.’
‘Thank you. I’ll try my best to please you.’
‘You’re very sweet.’
We lie in one another’s arms for a while not saying anything but revelling in the closeness of our bodies and the post-coital glow on our skin. I can feel the dynamic between us changing as the maid and her master return to their usual identities. We’re Beth and Dominic again. It’s taken that fantasy to restore us to one another and now we’re able to lie reunited in each other’s arms. When Dominic speaks, he is normal again – no longer my commanding master with his chastising hand, but my lovely man with his strong, warm embrace and his deliciously scented skin.
‘Do you have anywhere to go? You can stay here tonight if you want to. I’m going out – in fact, I have to get ready right now. I’m meeting an important client for dinner. When are you going back to London?’
‘I’ll head back in the morning, I’m sure I can get a ticket easily enough.’ My spirits swoop downwards a little. We’re only just back together and we’re talking about separation already. ‘What are your plans?’
‘I’m not going back to London. I’m travelling for the next month or so. I have lots of people I have to see.’
‘And then?’ I gaze at him imploringly.
‘I don’t know, Beth. Don’t ask too much just yet.’
‘But . . .’ I know my eyes must be full of fear. We’ve just made such sweet love together. How can that count for nothing? Isn’t our relationship the most important thing there is?
‘Can you wait for me?’ he asks gently. ‘I still have to get my head around this, you know.’
‘Of course I can wait, but I’m afraid that I’ll lose you again.’
‘You don’t have to be afraid.’ He kisses my nose. ‘But I do want one thing if we’re going to start again.’
‘Yes?’
He gives me one of those looks from his heartbreakingly beautiful brown eyes: sincere, intimate, like he can see into my very soul. ‘Beth, I want you and Andrei Dubrovski completely out of each other’s lives. It’s not just jealousy on my part – I’m worried about you being with him. He hasn’t taken kindly to the idea that I’m setting up as his rival, and if he guesses what we mean to each other, he could think up some pretty nasty tricks to g
et back at me.’
I stare back at him, trying not to show my feelings. Oh Dominic, it’s not that simple. I can’t simply tell Andrei that I’m not going to have anything to do with him. Not only have I promised to continue to be there for him but he holds the future of Mark’s career in his hands.
‘Do you understand, Beth?’ says Dominic, holding one of my hands and stroking it with his thumb. ‘It’s best for both of us if we get that man out of our lives.’
I nod. I don’t know what to say. I can’t bear to risk this reborn trust between us, our re-found intimacy.
‘Good.’ He drops a kiss on my hand. ‘Now I’m going out. Make yourself at home here. I’ll be back later.’
CHAPTER SIX
On the Eurostar bound for London, I watch the French countryside flying past the window and cool my forehead against the glass. My trip succeeded better than I could have dreamed. I’m sore and swollen but in a way I relish. I was asleep when Dominic returned last night but this morning, when we woke in bed together, he wordlessly began to make love to me, his strong morning erection pressing in between my legs almost before I knew where I was. Waking to his cock filling me up was a delicious way to start the day, and it was fast and deeply satisfying. Then he got up to shower.
The atmosphere between us over breakfast in his room was strange: intimate and yet distant. We know each other so well and yet there was the sense that we were in some ways still strangers.
When I asked him why he hadn’t replied to any of my messages, he looked blank. It took a minute before we worked out that I’d been texting and emailing a defunct phone and a dead email account.
‘When I left Dubrovski, everything went back to the company,’ Dominic explained. ‘I’ve got a new phone, and a new email.’ He gave me the details.
Now, on the train home, I realise that I still don’t know where I stand. Dominic said he was travelling to Montenegro to meet a multi-millionaire on his yacht and he was vague about where he would be after that. It feels as though he’s ready to enjoy our relationship when we can pretend to be other people but that he’s not quite ready to trust his heart.
But he knows the truth now. I have to give him time to think it over.
I’m sure that the delightful bedroom activities we’ve enjoyed will stay on his mind for a while. How can he not want more of the delicious things we do to each other? I shiver lightly as I remember the slap of his palm on my bare bottom and the delightful tingles he sent all over me.
He was sweet when we parted, kissing me tenderly and promising he would be in touch.
But how are we going to be together, with Dominic travelling all over the world?
I already miss him with a deep, yearning ache. As the train speeds me further away from him, I wonder how I’m going to be able to stand our separation when there’s no end to it in sight.
I remember his final words to me that morning: ‘Don’t forget, Beth, you need to cut your ties with Dubrovski, right away. Tell Mark you can’t deal with him any more.’
I know that Dominic needs that reassurance before he can truly commit again.
But how can I do that without destroying Mark?
By lunchtime I’m back in London. I can hardly believe that this time yesterday morning I had no idea where Dominic was. Now I can still feel the pressure of his mouth on mine and the stiffness in my limbs from all of our physical activity. I try to subdue the voice in the back of my mind that’s asking me exactly what footing our relationship is on, and how I’m going to manage to get Andrei out of my life. I need to think about my work after my unauthorised absence.
From St Pancras I head home and get changed, then go to Mark’s house. By the time I arrive, it’s mid-afternoon and Caroline is on her way out.
‘Oh hello, Beth, dear,’ she says, pulling on orange knitted gloves. ‘I’m just going off to visit Mark.’
‘Are you? Can I come? I’d love to see him.’
She looks at me for a moment and says, ‘Why not? I’m sure you’ll cheer him up and I’d like the company. No matter how comfortable a hospital is, there’s always something depressing about it, isn’t there?’
She flings her arm up in the air and a taxi pulls obediently out of the traffic and stops at the kerb for us. ‘The Princess Charlotte Hospital, please, driver!’ she cries and opens the cab door. We both climb in and settle ourselves, and then we’re off, heading towards Kensington.
‘Have you been keeping busy, Beth?’ Caroline enquires, tucking her coat around her barrel-shaped body.
I nod. ‘I’ll tell Mark all about it.’
‘I don’t want him worried about work though,’ she says quickly. ‘He’s doing well and is much more cheerful than yesterday but he mustn’t have any setbacks.’
‘I understand.’ Just then I feel my phone vibrate with an incoming text. I take it out of my pocket and check it. It’s a text from Dominic’s new number.
I want to see Rosa again. She fucked me very beautifully.
My stomach performs a lazy somersault inside me and I have a flashback to Dominic’s orgasm. It makes me gasp.
‘Are you all right?’ enquires Caroline. ‘Not bad news I hope.’
‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I say. I text back.
Rosa wants to see you. She wants to obey. When will it be possible?
The answer comes back almost at once.
Soon. Tell Rosa I am a loving master if she is a willing and obedient maid.
I’m tingling with arousal as I read it, remembering Rosa’s punishment yesterday and the way Dominic’s hot palm caressed my bottom and then slid down to the wetness of my waiting sex.
Stop it, I scold myself. You can’t get all worked up sitting with Caroline in a taxi!
She’s oblivious though, gazing out of the window as we pass expensive shops, their windows glittering with Christmas displays.
We come to a halt outside the private hospital and Caroline settles the fare. We go inside and at once there is that hospital smell, a disinfected citrusy aroma that speaks of sterile surfaces and hand rub. A large Christmas tree sparkles with decorations but the cheerfulness feels forced.
At the reception desk, Caroline signs us both in and leads the way to Mark’s room. I’m not sure what to expect as we go in and I feel nervous. This isn’t the kind of place I would associate with Mark. He’s so elegant and well turned out, how can he be anything but out of place in a hospital bed, no matter how comfortable?
We reach Mark’s ward and check in with the nurse there, who directs us to wash our hands and apply the alcohol rub. She also shows us how to put white plastic aprons over our clothes and then we’re ready to see Mark.
Caroline leads the way to the door, knocks and opens it. I follow her in. The room is pleasant enough and well furnished, but the armchairs and the television can’t hide its purpose. It’s dominated by a large hospital bed and by the equipment that surrounds it: the drips hanging with bags of fluid, the stands and the machines with their flashing lights and monitors. In the bed Mark looks thin and lost. He’s half sitting up and seems to be drowsing against the nest of white pillows. A line goes from the stand by his bed into the back of his hand where the needle is taped into place. He is heavily bandaged around his neck and his mouth looks swollen. As we come in, his eyes flicker open and he smiles feebly. I’m shocked at how ill and weak he looks, how deflated and tired.
‘Hello, old boy,’ Caroline says, bustling forward to land a kiss on his cheek. ‘How are you? Beth’s come along with me to say hello. She’s been missing you, the poor thing.’
I step forward and smile. ‘Hello, Mark. How are you? Caroline tells me the operation has been a success.’
He nods, then says, ‘Hard to talk’ but it comes out so thick and distorted I can hardly understand.
‘Tongue’s still swollen?’ asks Caroline, lowering herself into a chair by the bed.
Mark nods again.
‘Painful?’
He nods more emphatically. Then he coc
ks his head towards the drip stand and says, ‘Lovely morphine!’ which I understand perfectly. We all laugh.
He looks over at me and smiles, more with his eyes than his mouth. ‘Everything okay?’ he says in his strange thick new voice. He’s evidently speaking in as a few words as possible but it’s odd. Mark wouldn’t usually use that kind of phrase.
‘Yes, fine.’ I smile again, trying to convey that he doesn’t need to worry.
He says something unintelligible and has to repeat it a couple of times before I realise that he’s saying ‘St Petersburg’.
‘Oh! Yes, the trip.’ It feels like a lifetime ago, not two days. I smile at Mark while wondering what to say. I was going to be completely straight with him and tell him that the painting has been declared a fake but now, seeing how ill he looks, I don’t know if I can do that. He’ll know at once what it means. No matter how the news is managed, there will be a slur on his reputation because Andrei has already told the world that Mark was the man who had authenticated the fake Fra Angelico. I can’t bring myself to do it, not while he’s sitting helpless in a hospital bed.
‘The painting?’ Mark asks.
I nod, still smiling and hoping that I look sincere. ‘Yes, I saw it. They haven’t come to their final conclusions yet, but it’s looking hopeful.’
Is that enough to put Mark’s mind at rest for now? He nods and relaxes back into his pillows, looking pleased.
‘Now, that’s enough work chat,’ Caroline scolds, gesturing to me to sit down. ‘Let’s talk about something else. Beth, are you going home for Christmas?’
We emerge from Mark’s room just under an hour later. He’s enjoyed our company but he’s clearly exhausted when we leave. I come out feeling anxious. Mark is obviously not going to be back on his feet for a long time. How on earth will I keep the truth from him? And should I?
The day is almost over, and I don’t think there’s any point in going back to Belgravia now. I ought to get home and see Laura, who has been sending regular text messages to make sure I’m back okay from Paris, but an email appears on my phone as we’re heading back to the hospital lobby. It’s from James, my friend and one-time employer:
Promises After Dark (After Dark Book 3) Page 7