She resisted for just a moment, but couldn’t last any longer than that. She wanted him inside her as much as he clearly wanted to be inside her. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she lifted herself up and onto him, then dropped down with a speed that left them both gasping.
Mia closed her eyes, letting the blissful sensation of being stretched and filled permeate her every cell. She clenched her internal muscles, smiling as Thomas grunted at the grip of her around him.
“God, Mia,” he said, moving his free hand to the back of her neck. She opened her eyes. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, you feel amazing.”
Overwhelmed by an urge to be closer to him—if that was even physically possible—she leaned down and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her back, enveloping her. She’d never even considered the idea of feeling protected during sex before, but somehow that was precisely the effect Thomas was having. As though anything up to and including nuclear war could be taking place outside the walls of the cottage, and it wouldn’t matter because he would shield her from it. Either that, or he just felt so damn amazing inside her, against her, around her, that she simply wouldn’t care what was happening.
Cupping his face, she deepened the kiss, at the same time slowly rolling her hips, beginning to move on his shaft. The slick, intimate sounds of their lovemaking reached her ears and she groaned into Thomas’s mouth as his arms tightened around her.
They carried on this way for some time—gently fucking, slow and deep, clinging to each other as the movement of their lips and tongues echoed what was going on much lower down their bodies. Goosebumps erupted over Mia’s skin as each nerve ending within her sex was stimulated by the rhythmic rocking and thrusting of Thomas’s cock. A heat in her belly flickered to life, its flames fed by the growing pleasure between her legs, a pleasure that was exacerbated when she began to grind her clit against Thomas’s body with each thrust.
Soon, their lazy pace was no longer enough. With the promise of another orgasm bubbling away deep within her, Mia went after it. She rocked harder on Thomas’s lap, and he relaxed his grip so she had more freedom of movement, a situation she took full advantage of.
Thomas moved his hands to cup her backside, pulling her onto him more and more roughly with each thrust, as well as lifting his hips to meet her. Their gentle fuck a thing of the past, they now rutted like animals, their bodies slap, slap, slapping together, hands clutching, hissed expletives and guttural moans filling the air as they jerked and pistoned their way to climax.
Now tingling from head to foot, Mia concentrated hard on the white-hot sensation at her core, the raging heat in her belly. She pursued her orgasm frenziedly, almost out of her mind with need as she bounced on Thomas. His hands and mouth on her, his cock in her, felt amazing, and before long she was so close to coming that she could almost touch it.
“Tom,” she ground out, ignoring the growing fatigue in her muscles, “I’m almost there. Fuck me faster.”
His response was to flip them over until his big body covered hers, then proceed to fuck her with a ferocity that left her feeling like a ragdoll. She squeezed her eyes closed, taking every perfect inch of him, over and over as he pounded her into the sofa cushions, until she exploded with a feral scream and was entirely overwhelmed by bliss.
Thomas came only moments later, letting out a long, low moan as his cock twitched and swelled inside her.
Chapter Six
Mia thanked the driver as he helped her out of the car. He gave a respectful nod. “You’re welcome, Miss Harrington. Let me know when you’re ready to leave and I’ll come and collect you.”
“Will do. I’ll see you later.”
As he returned to the vehicle, Mia turned to face the grand building she was about to enter and drew her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, as though it would give her some sort of protection. Not that she particularly needed protection at a charity function, held in central London for society’s richest and most famous—which were often the same thing—perhaps it was more like comfort. A security blanket.
It was the first event she’d attended since her father’s death just over two weeks previously, and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. Edward Harrington had been very well known in these circles and she just knew she’d spend some of the evening fielding questions and sympathy. Since her mother’s death, she’d often accompanied her father to charity balls and fundraisers, and even attended some on his behalf when he couldn’t make it. But she’d always either been a plus one, or had a plus one. The pitying looks she’d receive as a result of turning up alone would only be exacerbated when people recognised her.
She could have brought a plus one, of course, but after some consideration hadn’t bothered. Following her newly-established friends-with-benefits arrangement with Thomas, her first instinct had been to invite him. But then she’d remembered just how much he detested wearing a “monkey suit” and decided against it. After further consideration, she figured she’d made the right decision—he’d have disliked the flagrant show of wealth on display, and would have no doubt felt very out of place. They’d both have probably been embarrassed by questions and assumptions about their relationship status, too, especially once people discovered he was her employee.
She’d contemplated asking another of her male friends who would be more comfortable with the situation, but having remembered her first choice was out of the country, and the second on the verge of getting engaged, figured it simply wasn’t meant to be. A paid escort was not her style at all, so alone it was.
As she walked carefully but quickly—eager to get out of the chilly, late-November air—up the steps of the stunning, historic venue, exchanging polite smiles and nods with others doing the same, she came to the conclusion that being dateless could actually be a good thing. Where better to find herself a “worthy” husband than at an event attended by people with lots of money—and some of them even there for philanthropy, rather than just to be “seen” at such a prestigious occasion?
Reaching the entrance, she gave her name at the door and was welcomed in, then invited to make her way into an antechamber off the main hall, where cocktails were being served before dinner.
She made a detour to the bathroom first—ostensibly to check her hair, makeup and aquamarine-blue off-the-shoulder Versace dress had survived the short drive across town—but in reality she was buying some time to build herself up to what could potentially be quite a difficult evening. The fact that the charity benefitting from tonight’s fundraising efforts was a cancer organisation—one which was due to receive funds following her father’s death—didn’t help matters.
But that made her attendance all the more important. It was a vital organisation which provided help and support to those suffering from cancer, as well as their families, and also funded research into treatments and, hopefully, eventual cures. Her father would want her to be here in his stead, and so she would be.
Blinking rapidly to force back the moisture that had developed in her eyes, she busied herself by rearranging her shawl so it looped around the middle of her back, with the ends resting over the crooks of her elbows. She hadn’t checked it into the cloakroom, in case her bare arms and shoulders got cold during the evening, but at least now her dress was more visible. Satisfied, she retrieved her lipstick from her clutch bag and applied a fresh coat. After blotting it, tidying the edges, and ensuring she hadn’t got any on her teeth, she took a deep breath and made her way towards the antechamber. A cocktail would take the edge off her discomfort, for sure.
Head held high, she entered the room and immediately found herself scanning the crowd for someone she knew. It was odd—when she was alone, she was perfectly comfortable, even happy, in her own company. But put her in a room full of people and being by herself was suddenly the last thing she wanted. A conundrum indeed, given if she did spot someone she knew, she’d end up with the sympathetic looks and words she so dreaded.
A waiter appeared
with a tray of drinks. “Cosmopolitan or Mai Tai, madam?”
She smiled. “Ooh, what a choice to have to make!”
The corners of his lips flickering up, he replied with a glint in his eye, “You could always have one of each.”
“And look like an alcoholic? I don’t think so,” she quipped, still smiling to show him she was joking. “I think I’ll go with the Mai Tai.” She took the proffered drink. “Thank you.”
He gave a quick nod, then efficiently moved off to deliver drinks to more guests. The room was filling nicely, which reminded Mia that in this crowd, there had to be someone she knew. If it was someone she actually liked, all the better. Maybe once she’d gotten the sorry-for-your-loss stuff out of the way, they could talk about something else.
She jumped, almost spilling her drink, when a male voice came from beside her. “You look as though you want to be here about as much as I do.”
Mia turned to face the owner of the voice with a glare, and had to look up to compensate for their height difference, despite her heels. “You shouldn’t creep up on people like that. I almost got Mai Tai on my dress.”
The man—who looked to be around her age, maybe a couple of years older, and was very handsome with his neat, dark hair and expensive suit—took in her attire and said, “I’m sorry. It would have been a shame to ruin such a beautiful dress. And I apologise for startling you, also.” He held out a hand. “My name is Elias Pym.”
His impeccable manners and seemingly heartfelt apology softening the edge of her irritation, she reached out and shook his hand. “Mia Harrington. Lovely to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Elias glanced around, then met her gaze, his brown eyes questioning. “If I might ask, are you looking for someone? Your date, perhaps?”
She shook her head, suppressing a smile at his subtle way of attempting to find out if she was here with someone. His clever turn of phrase, and the fact he was easy on the eyes, encouraged her to throw him a bone. “I’m embarrassed to admit,” she lowered her voice and leaned towards him conspiratorially, “I don’t have a date. I’m here by myself.”
Elias raised his eyebrows. “That is an absolute travesty.” He paused. “So I was right… about you not wanting to be here.”
“How do you work that one out?”
“Your body language when I approached didn’t exactly scream ‘relaxed and happy’. And if you don’t have a date, this isn’t really a social thing for you. Which leads me to conclude that you’re here out of duty, or something akin to it.”
“You’re very astute,” she replied, impressed.
“And you’re very good at answering a question without actually answering a question.”
“Touché.” She allowed herself a smile. “So what’s your excuse, then?”
His dark eyebrows drew together. “Excuse?”
“For being here, not wanting to be here, whatever.”
He shrugged and took a sip of his drink—it looked as though he’d gone for the Cosmopolitan—then said, “Just not my thing, that’s all. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the cause, and there’s no doubt that more money needs to be ploughed into research and helping people, but this just seems like a… frivolous way of doing it. You know, all these rich people enjoying themselves and throwing money around while those it’s intended for are suffering. It’s a bit of a slap in the face, if you ask me.”
“Wow,” she replied. “I, uh, don’t quite know what to say to that.”
Elias held a hand to his chest, looking contrite. “I’m sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean to blurt all that out. It was rude and inappropriate.”
“Actually, no,” she said, shaking her head, “I think you’re onto something. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Your honesty is very refreshing.”
“Thank you… I think,” he replied, dimples appearing in his cheeks as he flashed a perfect smile.
“You’re welcome.” She sampled her Mai Tai, humming low in her throat as the delicious flavours hit her taste buds. “So, where’s your date?”
“I don’t have one, either. I’ve been dragged along by my father—he’s one of the rich people who will be enjoying himself and throwing money around.”
A snort escaped before she could stop it. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her face flaming in mortification. After a couple of seconds, she lowered her hand. “I’m so sorry, that wasn’t very ladylike. You seem to be incredibly good at startling me, and surprising me.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” he shot back with a smile.
“The first isn’t great, but the second is just fine. I like surprises—as long as they’re nice ones.”
Just then, another dark-haired man walked up behind Elias, a few inches taller than him, but no less handsome. “Elias? Is that you?”
Turning, Elias said, “Hey, Alex! You’re here!” Bypassing more formal greetings, the two men did the whole masculine-back-slapping-hug thing. Then they both faced Mia, and Elias said, “Alex, I’d like to introduce you to Mia Harrington.” Then he jerked his thumb towards his friend. “Mia, this is a good friend of mine, Alex Cartwright.”
Mia held out her hand, only marginally surprised when Alex took it, then gently twisted it to place a brief kiss to her knuckles. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mia. You look beautiful, if you don’t mind my saying.”
“Pleased to meet you, Alex,” she replied, extracting her hand and hoping she hadn’t betrayed the effect he’d had on her. The effect they were both having on her. She and Elias had been on the verge of flirting, and she had been quite happy to go along with it and see where it led. But now Alex had swept in, all confident charm, the atmosphere had changed. The way he had looked at her hinted at his interest, and given he was clearly much less subtle than his friend, the stakes had been increased. No doubt there would be rivalry between them, but she hoped that, since they were obviously fond of each other, it would remain friendly. There was a certain flattery in being fought over, admittedly, but only if it didn’t go too far. She had no wish to make a scene or ruin a friendship.
Of course, it was entirely possible she’d gotten the whole situation wrong. Reading between the lines, Elias was single, but that didn’t mean Alex was. There was an easy way to find out. “What have you done with your date, Alex?”
His blue-green eyes narrowing, he said, “I don’t have one, I’m afraid.”
Mia frowned and shook her head. “How is it possible that two eligible bachelors such as yourselves don’t have dates? What is wrong with the women in this country?”
“Since you’ve been talking to my friend here,” Alex said, pointing his chin towards Elias, “I’m guessing you’re here by yourself, too. Which I find equally perplexing. We’re like a lonely hearts club.” He chuckled at his own joke, then gave Elias’s arm a gentle nudge.
“That’s a terrible turn of phrase,” Mia replied, wrinkling her nose.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said on a gasp, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
She gave a small smile. “I’m not offended. But I’m not a lonely heart, either.” She indicated the two men. “I may not have a date this evening, but I’ve got the company of two sophisticated gentlemen—and that’s perfectly all right with me.”
“Fair enough,” Elias put in. “We sophisticated gentlemen will just have to share you, won’t we?”
Mia didn’t miss the glance he shot towards his friend. She couldn’t interpret it, but something told her that perhaps this evening wasn’t going to be as dull as she’d first thought.
Chapter Seven
Before Mia had chance to respond, the unmistakeable sound of a piece of fine silver cutlery being tapped against a glass rang out. “Ladies and gentlemen!” an unseen man called. The din of voices quietened a little. “Ladies and gentlemen!” the man called again, only louder. This time, everyone fell silent. “Thank you. Please do go through to the main hall and take your seats. Dinner service will begin shortly.”
“Excellent,” Alex said, rubbing
his hands together. “They always put on a brilliant spread at dos like this.”
“Mia?” Elias said. “Would you like to join us at our table?”
“Oh… but aren’t the places allocated?”
Elias nodded. “They are. But by some stroke of serendipity, someone who was supposed to be at our table had to cancel at the last minute. So there is a spare seat, if you wish to use it. But of course, if you prefer to go to your allocated seat, that’s fine. I just thought I would request the honour of your wonderful company.”
Mia rolled her eyes, then took a sip of her drink. “You sweet talker, you.”
“Aww, come on, Mia,” Alex put in. “You’ll be doing us a favour—helping us to get through the evening without dying of boredom. I might be a doctor, but unfortunately I haven’t yet received any training on how to bring people—or myself—back from the dead.”
“You’re both sitting at the same table?” She hadn’t been sure whether by ‘our’ table that Elias meant his and his father’s, and whoever else was joining them.
Elias nodded. “Of course. Our fathers always share a table at these events. They’re good friends, but they’re also incredibly competitive. They egg each other on during the auctions and end up spending a fortune.” He shrugged. “It was amusing at first, but the spectacle has gotten a little old. Hence our desperate need for scintillating company.”
Pursing her lips, Mia pondered the information she’d received. So, Alex was a doctor, and the two men’s fathers were good friends who liked to outdo each other. It sounded as though she would definitely have an interesting evening in their company—more interesting than with a table of strangers or people she barely knew, anyway. She doubted any of them would miss her. She glanced between Elias and Alex with a smile. “Well, I would hate to feel responsible for the deaths of two such handsome gentlemen, if it were within my power to prevent it. Lead the way.”
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