By the time Mallory had calmed herself down enough to make her way home, the chime on her phone's Reminder app alerted her that she was late.
For the past four days, Dawn had made sure that they both sat down to supper at 6:00 at the latest. She had even set warnings at other times during the day, their titles deceptively cheery.
One of Mallory's favorites was 1:15PM – a xylophone going up and down the musical scale in a goofy way paired with "Meds! I'm waaaatching youuuuu XD."
It captured the caring quality of her amare, as well as her joie-de-vivre; never failing to elicit a snort of humor from Mallory. Even if she suspected that Dawn was trying to overcompensate for something, she would never voice it aloud. The looks of pure and radiant happiness that poured from the young woman's bright face at the mere swallow of a pill was too addictive.
She wanted to bathe in those smiles.
However cute her favorite alarm was, the mealtime alerts were serious. Even tea time was relegated it's own tone. She had just missed the supper one, and Dawn would not be pleased.
At 6:24PM, she crept out of the car before shuffling through the cottage's front door. Flinching at the tell-tale squeak as she closed it, she quickly shrugged off her heels beneath the coat tree. They would wait until later.
The smells of cooking filled the cozy home, but the one person she expected to be waiting with bells on was nowhere in sight. "Dawn?"
"In here!" a nervous peep came from the kitchen.
Making her way into the small foyer and through to the kitchen, Mallory looked around. Every surface she passed was devoid of dust and smelled of lemon polish. Pictures that had been crooked since her hospital visit were righted, and gleamed in cleanliness from the walls.
Once at the table, she chuckled at the tiny woman who bobbed around the kitchen. "Busy bee today, hmm?"
"Oh, you know," Dawn blushed, running her hand through hair that had been obviously curled. It framed her face, deliciously wild.
Licking her lips for that sight and not so much the supper that steamed from the dinner plate, Mallory sat down anyhow. "And what is this?"
Dinner appeared to be a blob of orange-goo covered tater tots. For all of Dawn's talents, cooking was decidedly not one. Mallory had managed to gulp down whatever her amare had cooked thus far, but tonight looked to be a challenge in disguise.
The place mat across from hers was suspiciously empty. "Where's yours?"
"I already ate!" Dawn scurried towards the stairs. "Tater Puffs with Cheese Whip, yum! Eat up while I take care of some stuff upstairs."
Jogging lithely up the treads, she spared one last look at Mallory's dumbfounded stare before disappearing from sight.
Mallory poked at the casserole, her lips pursing in skepticism when the concoction bounced back after being prodded down with a fork. Taking a small bite, she instantly regretted it.
"Mmf!" The food came right back up, and Mallory slapped a hand to her mouth. Sliding the chair back to stand, she grabbed the offending plate and marched to the sink to scrape the supper down the disposal, looking around for any sign of Dawn's return.
Satisfied that whatever was upstairs was currently occupying her, Mallory spat the food in her mouth into the sink, and began to wash her dish.
"Finished already?" a seductive purr rolled over her shoulder.
Before spinning to face the sneaky woman – who had somehow wandered downstairs undetected by her – Mallory dropped the plate into the sink with a clatter. "Oh, ehm. Yes..."
Dawn's blue eyes sparkled, and called her on the lie. "Don't you want more?"
"No, no." Mallory protested. "I'm so full, I couldn't eat another bite."
"Really? Hmm, that's a shame," Dawn teased. "And here I thought you would want dessert."
Not having seen anything remotely resembling 'dessert,' Mallory's gaze wandered the kitchen counters. "You baked?" she questioned cautiously.
Snickering while rolling her eyes, Dawn shrugged off the edges of the silky dressing gown purloined from Mallory's wardrobe. As the cool air hit her chest, her nipples tightened in response.
It was then that Dawn mustered her best 'smoldering look of wantonness,' peering through her eyelashes Mallory. It was certainly a sight, considering the dressing gown was still tied to Dawn's waist.
"Oh, thank God," Mallory murmured before descending upon her with kisses, peppering Dawn's giggling face.
Reaching to cup the much shorter woman's rear through the satiny fabric required her to lean down, and her lips found purchase on the expanse of bare skin between neck and shoulder. Here, Mallory dragged her teeth lightly over the thudding pulse point, relishing in the pink marks left behind and the mewling that filled the air.
"Upstairs?" she exhaled, nuzzling her face into the curly hair that seemed to be everywhere.
"Yesssss," Dawn moaned, sliding the robe off completely before tackling the buttons on Mallory's shirt.
Mallory couldn't stop her throaty chuckle at the haste, and removed the roving hands from her clothing. "In a rush?"
Pouting, Dawn began up the stairs. "I've just... missed you," she said, instantly sad.
The emotion that laced her amare's voice had Mallory swooping her up and into her arms. "I've missed you too," she reassured before continuing upstairs.
Nudging the bedroom door open with her foot, she placed Dawn gently atop the bed. Leaning back, Mallory unbuttoned her shirt and skirt, sliding them off with practiced ease.
The image before her was one that she wanted to remember forever. Dawn dug a heel into the bed to slide upwards, her arms thrown lazily across an aura of fluffy gold curls. Her entire body glowed in the candlelight. The stealthy little thing must have lit them when she came up here earlier, Mallory thought.
Shining white teeth bit exquisitely at a rose-glossed lip, and the Dawn's eyes deepened to a darker shade of blue with lust as Mallory removed her undergarments.
The curvy swells of her breasts rose and fell with each shuddering breath Dawn took, and even her hips jutted upwards to reveal a bare cleft of dusky skin, glistening already with anticipation.
That did not go unnoticed, whatsoever. "You –" Mallory began, her voice deep with need.
"Mmm hmm," Dawn replied while still biting at her lip, throwing a leg wide in invitation.
Needing no further request, Mallory glided her way up the sheets with a passionate stare. She lowered her mouth to the heated flesh and dragged her tongue from top to bottom, savoring it slowly. The legs framing her face opened even wider as Dawn pushed downwards, attempting to find a source of friction.
"More," she cried out. "Oh God, more."
Smirking against the Dawn's center, Mallory obliged. Her tongue went deeper, laving the sweet tasting nectar while one hand curled around a soft thigh to hold it still. The other hand rested against the pearl that had swelled lusciously with her ministrations, and her fingers began to rub in a circular motion. Dawn's hands flew to her hair, tugging and twisting to draw her in.
The sounds that were coming from the writhing woman were music to her ears, and she basked in each and every moan, sigh, and whine. The leg she'd clasped close to steady herself was becoming slick with perspiration, and Mallory alternated between the object of her desire and the dewy thigh, placing nips here and there.
"Mal," Dawn groaned, pulling against her hair again. "Harder... I know you want to."
"Do I, now?" Mallory mumbled against her leg.
Puffing a breath out in exasperation, Dawn sat up. "I want you to... be you. Whatever you have to give," she danced around the subject.
Mallory pursed her lips, and her resolve strengthened. They had often played at the darker themes of love making, but this was entirely different. She would show Dawn that this was different.
"Turn over," she commanded.
Dawn complied, rolling onto her stomach. Once she did, Mallory nestled herself over Dawn's rear.
Pulling Dawn's hands up and behind her neck, Mallory laced the fingers toget
her. "You have no idea what you're asking, and still you ask it," she muttered darkly.
"I do," Dawn insisted, muffled slightly by the pillows.
"You're not ready," Mallory hissed into her ear. "I could hurt you. I never want to hurt you."
Tossing her head side to side underneath her clasped hands, Dawn stubbornly argued. "You won't."
"I don't know what's gotten into you..." Mallory complained, slight irritation in her voice warring with excitement. Shimmying down, she slapped lightly at Dawn's thighs. "Spread, and don't move. You don't do anything without my permission, understand?"
"Nothing?" Dawn squeaked, widening her legs.
A sinful smile spread across Mallory's lips. "We'll go easy tonight. Let's see how long you can obey. I'd wager not long, because you're a foolishly naughty little beast."
Mallory's hand snaked into Dawn's curls, and pulled her head back roughly. "Don't come until I say so," she blew into the shell of a delicate ear, delighted with the blush that reddened it when she did so.
Heavy breaths filled the silence as Mallory raked her other hand more harshly than ever down the pristine lines of Dawn's back, satisfied when welts rose in the wake of her nails. When Dawn yelped at the action, she paused. "Did that hurt?"
"No," the obstinate woman beneath her fibbed.
"You're a terrible liar, Dawn. Don't ever tell me it doesn't hurt when it does," Mallory warned.
"It hurt, but I liked it. I'm not a fucking porcelain doll," Dawn swore, shaking her head against the steady grip on her hair. She was steadfast.
A heavy hand spanked the right globe of Dawn's bum. "Such a filthy mouth," Mallory mused, a darkness blanketing her tone. "I wonder who else has had the distinct pleasure of hearing you curse like that." Was she jealous?
"O-Only you," Dawn stuttered, her reply turning into piercing moan as Mallory's fingers swiftly entered her from behind. "Ahh! Fuck!"
True to her word, Mallory took her to the edge of pain and back many times over. She set a blistering pace meant to taunt Dawn into failing, and her blue eyes had shut in fierce determination.
Crying out helped, Mallory knew, but only slightly. As two fingers became three, Dawn was panting and calling down the heavens.
The addition of a thumb against her clit only increased her pleasure, and Dawn scrunched up towards the headboard, her forehead pressing against the cool wall with each thrust. She grit her teeth and hissed in a vain attempt to hold off.
Several times over the course of the next half hour, Mallory asked her if she gave up. Each time, Dawn growled her dissent.
At long last, Mallory released her hold on Dawn's hair and laid her weight fully down. "Demitte," she bid Dawn to come, her own voice raspy.
She bit at Dawn's neck, frustrated at her own need, and its insistence.
Between the command, the pleasure of fullness below, and the strength of Mallory's teeth on her neck, Dawn fell apart. Inhaling deeply, she screamed so loud it brought tears to Mallory's eyes.
Mallory stopped all movement, but Dawn continued her primal shrieking, nerves and senses overloaded with her release. This is what it felt like to be at someone's complete mercy, and to love every moment of it.
This was what she had to share. She wanted to hate it, this legacy of pain and pleasure, and for letting Dawn talk her into it. But Mallory loved it, and that she could never deny.
She especially loved the afterwards. Mallory turned Dawn over, and soothed the bite mark with her tongue. It would sting at first, and Dawn's eyelids fluttered as she moaned at the sensation, so different than the rough love they had just made.
Her hands wandered the planes of Mallory's shoulders and collarbone, but she quickly pulled them back down. "No," Mallory blurted out, curling Dawn into an embrace as she tucked the sheet around them.
Thankfully deciding that she had pushed far enough for the evening, Dawn snuggled so that her face rested where her hands wanted to go. "Okay," she huffed, still out of breath.
Mallory pressed a tender kiss to the edge of her forehead, just beneath her hair. Her hands traced delicate patterns over Dawn's arms.
It only took minutes for Dawn to drift off. When she did, Mallory spoke what was on her heart.
"I... I love you, so much. I don't deserve you."
Dawn's lips had long fallen silent. The inky darkness of slumber overtook Mallory before she could utter another word.
_____________________________________
A well appointed man and his entourage paced the length of the Ryanair hangar at Edinburgh Airport. He could be any man, he thought, glad for the sunglasses and sharp cap he wore. Taking his place in line, he waited impatiently to pass through boarding security.
His cold, calculating glare examined the immediate area, judging those he considered beneath him. He would have much preferred to take a private flight, but it had been suggested by his newest barrister to get lost in the masses to avoid arrest. Security agents for commercial flights were less scrutinizing, and there might be a chance at advancing undetected to make the flight to Bordeaux, France.
When they were two passengers away from the front of the line, uniformed constables began to lead an array of darkly suited women and gentlemen towards them.
Steven coughed low under his breath and made eye contact with his bodyguards before slipping under the barrier. As his two men followed, the lead constable shouted.
"Steven Rose! Mr. Steven Rose, stop right there!" they pointed at Steven's group as they headed away from International Boarding.
Steven couldn't help but swear. Turning to face Lenny while they raced down the corridor, he motioned with a jerk of his chin. "Do what needs to be done," he grunted.
Lenny nodded in response, escaping down a side hallway and down a flight of stairs. The interference earned more yelling from the agents and constables hot on their heels.
The commander barked out orders to follow Steven at all cost.
A shrill police whistle blew, alerting those blocking their advance to move out of the way. "Steven Rose, halt in the name of the law! You are under arrest!" an agent yelled. "Do not resist, sir... Scotland Yard is outside!"
Winded from his posh lifestyle and futile attempt at escape, Steven realized how this was going to end. He could either be taken into custody with his dignity intact, or the police very well might encumber him with force.
Stopping dead in the middle of the hangar, he turned to face the progressing crowd of law enforcement with a grin, his hands held aloft.
'You're dead, bitch,' he thought with a snarl.
Chapter 18: Neutiquam Mortuus (I’m Not Really Dead)
Mornings were never Dawn's forte, so it was not surprising that this day found her sitting slumped over the kitchen table. With her face pressed against it, she looked as if she were still sleeping. Her eyelids fluttered at the feeling of fingers stroking through her hair, and a smile quirked her lips.
"You should make some coffee," Mallory chuckled, her voice still sleep weary, and raspy from the evening before. Her hand slowed its journey through a particularly tangled golden curl, and rested against the curve between Dawn's head and neck.
Looking down at yesterday's paper, she knew that any further attempt at reading it was futile. Even she was exhausted this morning, even though they had snored their way through a better part of a summer evening. "I could-" a yawn punctuated her speaking. "I could even make it."
Dawn sat up at that, the hand soothing her falling gently to the table between them. She gave a gimlet eye towards it, and frowned. "No... No, I should do it. You made your tea before I was even out of the bathroom, and – "
"I am quite capable of boiling water and nibbling a biscuit or two on my own, amare... I assure you," Mallory fussed. "I don't do much of anything these days. Allow me something."
"You... do things!" Dawn professed, very serious in her belief. She scrambled out of her chair and over to the coffee maker to grasp at the glass carafe. Waving it in triumph, she turned to the s
ink and began to fill it with water.
At Mallory's irritated snort, she stuck her tongue playfully through her lips, but did not turn around.
It was true that Mallory did things. Most days she drove back and forth to Middlesbrough city center from 11:00 AM to around 5:00 PM, to be poked and prodded by Dr. Sheehan and the duty prosecutor until thoroughly exhausted, ornery, or both. Some nights, she typed at her laptop with an angry fervor and swore about another independent consult job declined her. She had wanted to translate per diem, but even that fell through once she sent her credentials through.
Peccatum in Carne: Sins of the Flesh (The Three Sins of Mallory Moore Book 1) Page 26