TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy)

by Sydney Jamesson

  “Your husband and his sex drive have me so turned-on I can’t control myself.” He tries to extricate himself from a mismatched tangle of shoulder pads and sleeves. “His memories of coitus with you are over-powering. I can’t help myself …”

  I slither down from the bed and crawl over to him. ”Oh we did enjoy our coitus,” I state impishly.

  He lifts my chin. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, but you scared me. I thought you were out of control. I had to shout my thoughts …”

  “Yes you did, and I apologise. I’ll have to filter out some of these libidinous feelings I have for you or I will become … overwhelmed.”

  I pull back an inch or two. “By ‘overwhelmed’ you mean out of control?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “But I thought you were all powerful. You can control everything, except fate.”

  He shakes his head, struggling to rationalise his responses. “So did I. This is all very disconcerting.”

  “You know why that is, don’t you?”

  He tips his head pensively.

  “It’s because it’s human nature and, because you’re not human, you don’t know how to harness it! This is what veneration feels like; what real love feels like.” I take his face in my hands. “Don’t stop feeling it, just enjoy it. It’s not meant to be agonising.”

  He adjusts my position so I am straddling him. “How wise you are, Beth.”

  He’s got it all wrong. “It’s not about wisdom. It’s about trust. I know what my husband feels for me. I feel the same way. We’re two halves of one soul destined to be together in every sense of the word. It’s like a cosmic union and not even death will part us.” I take a breath, stunned by the clarity of my declaration. “Maybe we should prepare for our flight?” I attempt to twist my body away.

  “Oh no, not so fast, missy. I’m experienced enough to know your husband would not let this moment pass.” He begins to unbutton my dress with steady hands. “If you think I’m going to let you evade me, you are very much mistaken.”

  The timbre of his voice and use of the word missy is enough to spark a visceral reaction in me. “What do you want to do?”

  He peels my dress from my arms until I am sitting across him, wearing only black lingerie and an anticipative expression.

  “To give you your wish.”

  “And that was?”

  Quickly he removes his shirt and tosses it to one side, leaving it to land over the mound of metal and chainmail like a dusting of snow. “To make love to me.”

  Oh!

  I fashion an untruth. “I’d forgotten.”

  He knows better. “Really?”

  I have no answer to that. “No, but the moment has passed.”

  “It has?” With that, he rolls me over onto my back and arches his body into mine until I can feel the soft pile of the carpet against my skin and the weight of his body on mine.

  “How do you expect me to fly for 13 hours with an erection like this?” He unbuckles his belt and pushes down his trousers. ”You want me, don’t you?” He licks his lips and waits for my reply.

  Instinctively, I look down. What I see makes me draw breath and I avert my gaze, looking left and right, anywhere but there. “I … do,” I mutter.

  “Then how would you like to make love to me?”

  There’s no going back.

  He smirks in such a way every muscle below my waistline constricts and releases in a kind of internal spasm.

  ”I … I want to take you to a place you haven’t been before …”

  He tips his head like an attentive pupil. “I’m listening.”

  I reach out my hand for him to pull me up. As he does so, I push him backwards onto the carpet until I am lying on top of him like a human blanket. “Close your eyes.”

  He does.

  I lift my iPod from the deck, scroll down to Shakira and press Empire. It starts softly but I know the music will build to a roaring crescendo as he sprints towards his riotous climax.

  “Give me your hands.” Obediently he holds them together as if praying and I reach behind me, open the drawer of the bedside cabinet, and lift out our set of handcuffs. I raise his arms above his head, sliding them under the lower half of the bed and attach the handcuffs around his left wrist. Click. He body stiffens. I ease the other of the handcuffs around the leg of the bed and attach his right hand until he is totally disarmed and at my mercy. Click.

  Kissing the skin beneath his ear, I whisper, “Now this is what we’re going to do… I’m going to make love to you because you are my husband and I adore you. Your body belongs to me now.”

  His breath catches. “I believe that to be true.”

  I prepare him for his sensual voyage of discovery by removing his trousers and boxers. In a matter of seconds he is lying naked and highly aroused on the carpet with his eyes closed, waiting, anticipating my touch. With the light of the bedside lamps he is clearly visible; every inch of him rippling and moving like taut, flesh-coloured fabric stretched over muscle. His eyes are closed but mine are free to roam, returning again and again to his impressive cock as it points upwards, dipping and rising as his abdomen undulates.

  Quickly, I remove my bra and panties and stretch myself across his muscular torso claiming him in his entirety. “My husband could make me come with words; that was just one of his talents. Today you’re going to experience exactly that.”

  Hi face is alight with expectation. “Let the lesson begin.”

  With my fingers outstretched, I descend his body, stopping along the way to kiss and nuzzle chest hair; to dip my nose into the curves of his abs and his hips. I begin … “Your heart rate is increasing; you’re having to take deep breaths to control your arousal and you want to be inside me …”

  He’s breathing heavily, clearing his throat to construct a sentence. It leaves his mouth in a stutter. “I, I … do, very much.”

  “Tell me how it feels to be desired, like this.” I nip at his thigh and sooth the sting with a kiss.

  “It feels … like nothing else.”

  “Go back and feel what Ayden felt in my apartment. We are making love; he is coaxing me to come. Say the words…”

  While he seeks out the moment, I clamber across him, rocking and grinding myself into him. My clitoris catches against hard flesh and I call out, “Ah!” forcing him to open his eyes.

  What I see makes me pull back. His pupils are so dark they have bled into his irises like an oil slick. He begins to tug at the bed until the leg creaks and moves a couple of centimetres. The muscles in his forearm are contracting and I’m fearful he’ll free himself.

  “I want you,” he growls with the intensity of a rabid animal. He raises himself on the carpet and arches his back in search of me.

  “Ayden,” I call out, “Ayden, look at me.” I have his face in my hands. “Look at me and centre yourself. Absorb the feelings, don’t fight them.” I don’t know what I’m saying but for the sake of self-preservation I have to say something. I can’t afford to think of arrangements or adventures. All I must see is Ayden; to allow the desire diffusing through my bloodstream to enter the chambers of my heart and release itself through a display of erotic exultation. And, if that doesn’t work, I’ll just fuck him until he begs me to stop!

  But look at him. I’ve fanned the flames of passion to such an extent I fear he is at the point of no return.

  The music increases in volume and tempo, mirroring his agitated state of provocation.

  “Don’t play with fire, Beth,” he snarls, reading my thoughts. “I need to be inside you, now!”

  Hearing his words and watching how they escape through clenched teeth, reminds me of the intensity of our connection. Seeing him coming undone like this is affecting my own breathing; my heart is racing and I’m so moist he must be able to feel the wetness. Taking this bull by the horns I tease him further …

  “No. Not yet. I want to taste you …” I run my hands across his abdomen, along his pectoral muscles and ta
ke hold of his shoulders; rocking forward, I follow the line of his jaw with my tongue and kiss the shadow of stubble forming there, spurred on by the groans emanating from somewhere deep inside his core.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I ask breathlessly.

  He struggles to say a single word. “No.”

  I descend slowly, ravenously, like a woman finding her appetite for a delicious meal laid out before her. “Tell me what you want.”

  In a husky voice I barely recognise he states, “You know.”

  I skirt along his pubic bone. “Tell me.”

  His body begins to quiver. “Tell you or show you?” he asks, causing me to lift my eyes to meet his. “Enough!”

  As if in slow motion, the bed begins to move; it appears to be floating upwards off the floor just high enough for him to slide his hands beneath the leg supporting it. In one languid movement he frees his hands, still handcuffed, and the bed descends. My mouth falls open and my eyes widen out of trepidation.

  He sits upright, outstretches his powerful hands and takes hold of my waist, keeping me in place. His hot hands inch upwards, the chain almost at breaking point. He finds my breasts and his thumbs rotate around my nipples in tiny circles until I am shaking with a heady cocktail of fear and anticipation.

  “You asked me to tell you what I want,” he says with a charcoal grey stare, so penetrating I fear that simply witnessing it will cause my palpating heart to explode. “Darling, I want to fuck you so hard and so deep, I can barely contain myself.” He tips his head to the right. “Does that answer your question?”

  All I can do is nod, feeling the power radiating from his hands as they take hold of my neck; his thumbs caressing my throat, feeling the movement of a hard swallow before easing their way to my face; the chain from the handcuff skimming my lips as he rests it there reminding me of who is really holding the reins. Inside I’m clenching, alarmed yet so aroused I’m starting to pant.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he asks, shaking his head from left to right a split second before lifting his hands high above my head in a wraparound movement. His palms are wide against my back. “You said you wanted to make love to me. Well, here I am. All yours for the taking.” He smiles in such a way, I realise this is just a game. He’s being Ayden, exuding danger but using it to trigger my arousal. He really has been reading Ayden’s thoughts.

  I feel my body deflating, so rigid had I become with fear. I know now, Ayden’s influence is so powerful that he won’t allow him to hurt me. He might tease me mercilessly and scare me half to death, but he won’t gain any pleasure from my pain.

  “I think you’re going to be a demanding pupil with your extra-terrestrial talents.” I glance sideways to the bed. “I’ll have to take you in hand.” I lower my right hand to his impressive erection and take hold of it, feeling the sensation of the velvety soft skin that encases it. With his flattened palms, he arches me into him and finds my mouth; first with his moist tongue and then his lips. I feel his tongue touching mine as he deepens the kiss until it becomes a fiery fusion of extended sighs. With my free hand I grab at his hair, feeling the dampness of perspiration at its roots.

  With my right hand I continue to run my fingers the length of his cock at a quickening pace; I feel it growing in my hands, thick and unyielding. Droplets of pre cum cover my fingers, making me moan into his mouth.

  His hands descend and, at one and the same time, he grasps my buttocks, squeezing and lifting me aloft.

  “I’m ready for you,” I confess, resting both my hands on his shoulders.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, smiling behind a kiss.

  I descend onto him, not stopping to reply. “Ah!” I call out, feeling the sensation of something unfamiliar and imposing. But, I’m so desperate to feel him inside me I push on regardless. I lower myself onto him, feeling a tingling sensation as sensitive tissue stretches to allow him access to my sex.

  Fuck!

  “Can you feel how hard I am for you?” he asks, beginning to rock my body forwards and backwards, coaxing me to feel the exquisite rub of ribbed flesh internally. “Slowly, I want to savour the tightness as you grip me.”

  I hold off, but my arousal is evident in my quickening breaths and feverish moans of pleasure.

  A growl escapes from his throat. “Ah, the exquisite grasp of your body. You are something, Beth.”

  With us melded together, I hear a single click and know exactly what it is. His containment had been no more than a charade. He knew all along about the release catch.

  His grip tightens on my buttocks. “Come on Beth, show me what you can do with this delectable body of yours,” he says, baiting me, his mouth switching between an involuntary pout and a roguish grin.

  I slide both hands into his hair and pull his mouth onto mine. “You haven’t the faintest idea what I’m capable of,” I state plainly, claiming his mouth with my tongue. “Lie back while I fuck you!”

  I push him backward, taking hold of his hands and slamming them down either side of his ears with our fingers entwined; the handcuffs dangling from his left hand like cheap jewellery.

  I arch my back and reposition myself so our union becomes a slick assembly of moist flesh and matted hair.

  “This is not the woman I married,” he states, goading me on.

  “That’s because I am not the woman you married,” I remind him, beginning to rock steadily up and down, gripping him like a gentle fist.

  He closes his eyes.

  “Look at me! Open your eyes and look at me,” I call out. “You watch me come because that’s what you want; to have me capitulate, to reveal my soul to you at that very moment. Now witness what I’m giving you and take delight in my surrender.” I pull my internal muscles and squeeze him in a vice-like grip. I feel him shuddering at the sensation and reinforce my offensive with circular movements to stimulate nerve endings, and it works. He is groaning with pleasure; a deep growl vibrates in his throat, leaving his mouth like the final roar of a dying animal.

  “Fuck!”

  “You’ve been spending too much time in Ayden’s head. Now you’re even swearing like him,” I announce, knowing my words will be lost in the heat of the moment.

  I lift myself up and away from him until he is almost separate from my body then slide down again and again, taking him in one long thrust. I have to tighten my grip on his hands to displace the sensation of a simmering orgasm. I must close my eyes. With them closed I hear Ayden’s voice.

  I’ve let the genie out of the bottle …

  He’s right, I don’t recognise myself. With that declaration I dive into that endless sea headfirst, making ripples, hoping they will merge and form into a tidal wave that will remain unforgotten for a lifetime. I writhe onto him and lose myself, release his hands and succumb to the ecstatic embrace of carnal sex.

  On opening my eyes, I see only Ayden. He’s here; eyes dark like a cloudless sky at midnight; words reaching out to my very soul, his undying love touching my heart.

  Be bold, baby.

  Thinking only of him, I arch my back, press my body down hard and fuck him so ferociously he takes hold of my hips, trying to hold me off. The noises he makes are barely human; the roars of pure ecstasy are ricocheting off the walls. When I can take no more, I lean into him and graze his left ear with my mouth whispering, “It’s time. Come for me, baby.”

  Immediately, I feel a jerking motion and a pulsating ejaculation so strong, it triggers a chain reaction in me. Whimpering, I shudder and moan my way through an earth-shaking, bone-rattling orgasm, the culmination of forty minutes of hot and hard sex.

  Ten minutes later, still dizzy from our sexual exploits, we clamber from the floor a soaking mass of body fluids and perspiration. He seems stunned. I feel victorious. I think I know what’s happening now …

  Wherever Ayden is ‘sleeping’, he won’t let go of life; he is holding on, fighting for his existence. If I can keep our love strong then we’ll be able to endure anything – even this.
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br />   ***

  With one part of the puzzle partially solved, Mack leaves the confines of his stuffy side office for the slightly fresher air of Harrow town centre. Tuesday morning shoppers are seeking out parking spaces and delivery vans are holding up traffic; just another typical day in an English market town.

  He strolls into the HSBC branch and makes for the smartly dressed bank clerk counting cheques behind a glass partition. Not immediately taken with his ordinariness, she becomes more animated when he introduces himself and quickly goes in search of the Bank Manager.

  A suited gentleman appears from behind a side door and shakes Mack’s hand. He’s Mr. Taylor, the man in charge, just the person he’s looking for. They seat themselves across a desk from each other, away from the prying eyes of employees and customers. What Mack has to say is private and has required a Court Order to access the information he needs to proceed with his investigation.

  “Good morning Detective Inspector Bowker,” Mr. Taylor says, reading his card and placing it neatly on the desk in front of him. “What can I do for you? Are you here in a personal or professional capacity?”

  Mack leans back into the chair, preparing himself for what he expects will be a lengthy conversation. “I’m here to have a look at the banking details of a Miss Elise Richards. She’s a former customer of yours.” He takes the Court Order out of his inside breast pocket. “I think you may want to take a look at this.”

  Mr. Taylor opens the document and reads through it; he’s seen one before and the official jargon assures him of its legality. D.I. Bowker has come prepared.

  “Thank you. May I ask why?”

  “I can’t say too much other than Miss. Richards is deceased, having been involved in a fatal traffic accident. There‘s a couple of points I’d like to clear up before releasing her funds to her family and their solicitor.”

  “I see. Well, everything seems to be in order. I’m sure we can accommodate you.” He offers a perfunctory smile, cracks the knuckles on each hand, rests his fingers on the keyboard and focuses his attention on the computer screen in front of him. “Can you confirm Miss. Richards’s home address, please?”