“Mr. Slate, good evening.” Her tongue rolls on his name, a sultry accent wrapped in a tight little package. “I had heard you were dining with us tonight. I just wanted to come and make sure everything was to your liking.” The way her eyes rake him over, familiar, knowing. A knot forms in my throat. Her body language, everything about her screams familiarity. Jealousy blooms in my heart, and I struggle to hide it. He watches her squirm, swaying on her feet ever so slightly. She watches him with baited breath, fixed on him. I feel like an intruder, eavesdropping on a private exchange. He arches an eyebrow at her and lights up his best panty melting smile. His full lips, curved in the most knowing, arrogant manner.
“Everything is wonderful, thank you, Celine.” He turns his eyes to me, focused and intent, shutting her out. “We will have dessert, whatever is tonight’s specialty.” I watch the humor in his eyes as he knowingly robs her of his attention. She stands at the end of the table, speechless, fidgeting. I look up at her as he dismisses her with a curt wave and a request for an aperitif. Her face falls ever so slightly before she recovers herself, tossing me an inscrutable, hollow look.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask, knowing the answer. “You are aware of the effect you have?”
He is fully aware of his power, and in no way resentful or denying. Bestowing a ray of his beautiful light on every woman he meets. No need for him to use force when he can dominate with the slightest brush of his fingers, or flash of that crooked grin. The twinkle in his eye breeds envy amongst the stars.
“I am aware, and I am glad that you are.” I look up into his eyes and the challenge is clear. “I think you like that other women want what you have.”
“I don’t have anything. We are just using each other, remember? It’s all temporary.” Just as I say it, she returns to the table with two small glasses of Grappa, an Italian sponge cake with two forks and a wicked look in her eyes. She places the dessert in front of him, folds her hands in front of her, drops her eyes and speaks in a hushed tone.
“May I join you later, Sir?”
I look from his impassive face to the wicked glint illuminating her dark chocolate eyes. I know that I have heard something I wasn’t supposed to. But, her intention is clear, and deliberate. He doesn’t give her a second glance, focusing all of his razor sharp attention on me, I’m trapped in his eyes like prey, unable to look away or move, even though the threat level has been raised. It is clear, I am about to be devoured, yet I stay. Wait for his prompt. Wait for his guidance.
“No, that will be all. Thank you.” He dismisses her and her smile falters before she slinks away, but he doesn’t notice. Waiting for a reaction, his expectant eyes are wide. My voice has been stolen as my mouth drops open, but not a sound escapes. I close my mouth with a snap before it falls open again. Is that what I think it was? Was she suggesting that she? That we? My mouth finally catches up, with little eloquence.
“What was that?” As the words escape my mouth, there is a part of me that does not want the answer. Afraid of what it may be. What I know it was. Add ménage a trios to the list, the growing list of Rhys’ many talents and exploits. My head swims, and I catch myself rubbing my forehead, tugging at the bridge of my nose. It is mind-boggling trying to keep up with him. I am a grown woman. I thought I was secure and informed in my sexuality before I met him. He has been like a force of nature on me, my body and my mind. Forcing me to reconsider everything I thought I knew. Everything I thought I wanted and needed. This is a step further. The thought of him with that little spinner makes my stomach knot. A stabbing pang of jealousy and a green eyed monster stares out at him from behind my eyes.
“Nothing,” he replies, his conviction noticeably absent. Sir. I play the word over in my mind. The way his eyes lit up when she said it, the way her mouth curled into that Cheshire grin. My eyes narrow on him. He is cool, unaware of the war raging in my head.
“This is the craziest thing I have ever done,” I declare. I thought I was keeping pace. Clearly I am out of my league and miles away from my comfort zone.
“What are you talking about?” He is cool as a cucumber watching me squirm.
“This. This affair,” I cringe, hating the word as soon as it escapes my lips. It is too adult, carries too much weight to be the name for this. Whatever this is, I don’t know any longer. I let myself be clouded and confused, diluted into forgetting the reality of our situation. One more night with him is all I have. I can live with this information for one night. He told her ‘No.’ There is nothing to worry about. Perhaps, a deep dark part of me gets a thrill from his kinky taste. I trust him, I just can’t share him.
“This is the most outrageous thing I have ever done. There is so much that I don’t know. You make me feel like a novice.” I stop and take the last strawberry between my fingers, bringing it to my lips. A barely audible gasp and his eyes become dark and carnal. Slowly, I lick the tip of the strawberry watching his eyes. He bites his bottom lip before turning that one thousand watt, glacier-melting grin on me. I am no match for that mouth. “I do know one thing though. I don’t like to share.” I turn his words back on him and the humor is not lost. One night or a lifetime, I am not the kind of girl that can share. I know that about myself, had enough experience with having too many people in a relationship. And yes, for me sex usually comes with a relationship; more new territory that I am exploring with Rhys, the casual fuck thing. But nothing about this feels casual. Not anymore.
“We have already established that you are greedy. And you are no novice.” His eyes twinkle in the dull torchlight. He likes to watch me squirm, to push me.
“You will be free from my greed tomorrow.”
“What happens tomorrow?”
“I go home.”
“You don’t have to.”
“What will you do? Tie me up in some unseen room, tucked away to fuck at your leisure? I have a life, Rhys.” He struggles to remain stoic, impassive. But the desire is written all over his face, in the slight curl of his lips, the devious glimmer that lights his eyes. No doubt at the thought of tying me up. Desire blooms, hot and heavy, deep in my belly at the thought and I realize I want him to push me higher. I want to push myself.
“Will it be so easy to leave me?” I pause on his query, knowing the answer, but not wanting to share the truth.
“It won’t be easy, for me.” I don’t want to focus on how easy it will be for him. He most likely has a willing hostess or waitress at every hot spot. A woman anywhere he wants. And then there’s Nadja.
“Will you think of me?” I ask. Some sick form of self-inflicted torture. Masochist!
“Without question, Beautiful. I cannot seem to get enough of you, you have me hooked. In fact, I need a fix, now.” I am delighted by his answer, flushed and taken aback by the ease and clarity of his declaration. He rises from the table and I am struck by his beauty. He is so charming and sexy. Easy. And for one more night, he is mine. He steps behind me and pulls out my chair, like the gentleman he is. He drapes his jacket about my shoulders and pulls me close, tucking me protectively under his arm as we walk through the crowded restaurant and out to the curb. He tugs on my hand, a devious glint in his eyes. Can I do this?
“Come here.” We round the corner, heading towards the back of the building. A small dock juts from the other side of the walk, a small fishing boat bobs on the wavy surface.
“I want you out in the open.” My heart races. Looking across the dock I see no shelter, no privacy. But I know what he wants, he wants me exposed and raw. Pulling me along the back wall of the restaurant he pulls me into a small nook that is overgrown with bougainvillea. It looks like it hasn’t been tended to in quite a while, which makes me feel better. Maybe there is no reason for anyone to venture back here. The clouds begin to mist, just as my blood is coming to a slow simmer. The dinner, the innuendo from the hostess, and now this. Rhys and me, in the rain, exposed. A shiver runs down my spine.
***
The rain is soft on Sophie’s h
eated skin. I skate my hands down her arms, trails of goose bumps rising in their wake. A slight shiver runs down her spine and her bottom lip quivers. It is a delight to watch her bloom and open up under my hands. So easy to make her needy, she responds like she has never been touched by sensual hands, every release is more explosive than the last. I don’t know how high I can take her here, outside. She is clearly unnerved by the prospect of getting caught, but she cannot resist. It is there in the deep dark irises that hide her green eyes, dilated, expectant. A bead of sweat rises at my top lip, mingling with the slight raindrops that have begun to spring from the sky. I lick the rain away from my lip and she lunges into my arms. I twist her around, one hand resting, pressing at the apex of her thighs, the other gently wrapped around her throat. I press my chest against her, feel the ragged tear of her breath and push her against the wall. Turning her face to the side, she presses her cheek to the wet brick and closes her eyes.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask, pressed heavily against her back. The friction and heat between us is enough to unman me. I concentrate on the brick, the cool rivulets of water that trickle down, through the cracks and mortar grooves. “We are not going to play or take our time. I am going to fuck you, fast and hard. Are you ready for that?” I hear her breath catch, she is always so quiet, but I know she likes it when I talk dirty. Reaching beneath her skirt, I run my palm across her tight cheeks, coaxing blood to the surface, warming her up. She sways her hips, pressing her back into my waiting erection, wagging her delicious ass in front of me. I raise my palm from her skin and wait a moment, before bringing it back down hard, across both alabaster cheeks. “I said, are you ready?” She squeals in delight.
“Yes.” Her voice is breathy, heavy with lust, and I know I’ve got her. Hooking my thumb into her panties, I tug until they rip in my hand, a tiny shred of damp silk that I tuck into my pocket. Angry red lines mar her skin where the panties pulled and snapped, she will feel that later. I fumble against the zipper of my slacks, kissing her back and shoulders as she bows under me. The smell of gardenia, fresh rain and Sophie’s musk wafts around me, and my blood is whipped into frenzy. Unzipping my trousers, I free my cock and it falls heavy into my hand, already throbbing, aching for Sophie’s soft, yielding warmth.
“Turn around,” I whisper into her ear. She turns and her eyes go straight to my rock hard cock, bobbing in the rain, tapping my belly. Her eyes grow in delight and she licks her lips. God damn, I could get lost in those eyes, and the new devious twinkle that she wears. Dropping to her knees, she looks up at me with hunger in her eyes, a playfully seductive grin pulling at her cherry lips. Starving, she slips my cock into her mouth, like a delicate lollipop.
“Aahh!” I gasp. All the way to the root she takes me into her warm, wet mouth, her jaw clamped down tightly around my pulsing root. Her other hand cups my balls, turning them around in her hand, tugging and kneading. Little explosions ring deep in my groin, bringing me to a boil. She pulls them down, away from my body and the weight is enough to send me over the edge. She pumps my flesh with her perfect mouth, her silky tongue running over my hard cock. A bead of cum gathers at the tip as she pulls it from her mouth. Grasping at my humming flesh she looks straight into my eyes, lowers her tongue and flicks the bead from my tip, taking it slowly into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she moans in delight, and the vibration rings deep in my boiling blood. Damn, she’s good.
I haul her up from her knees, and demand that she wrap her tiny legs around me. She has got me so hot I don’t care who is watching. The rain falls in a steady stream, coating us in slickness, we don’t care, lost in each other, caught up in our own storm. This little shower is nothing compared to the slick, heady wetness that has spread between Sophie’s soft, white thighs. She locks her legs around me and I spread her open with my hands, tugging her flesh until it is wide, and exposed. I rub her sopping wet slit across my cock twice before the sensation becomes too much. Pulling her down with all my strength I impale her on my begging rod. “Oh!” I clamp my hand over her mouth to stifle her scream and set a frantic pace. She meets every thrust, her thighs like vice grips around me, tensing and squeezing with every deep thrust. I am buried to the hilt, lost inside Sophie. This is rapidly becoming my favorite place to be, and it’s almost over. I didn’t think I could feel this way.
I wind my hand around the back of her neck and tug her hair, exposing her soft, white throat. I suckle and nip at her flesh as her walls begin to clamp and quiver around me. I still, stop her writhing, my hands heavy on her hips. Buried deep within her, I hold her, our eyes locked. I kiss her soft, sweet lips. Lifting her from my cock, she hovers with her folds resting at my tip, her lips parted against mine. I pull her down hard, thrusting into her at the same time and we collide, waves rippling through my belly. The force is savage and heavenly. She rebounds off and sets her own pace. Cum boils in my balls as she writhes against me, her juices matting in my curls, her clit hard and on display, sweet little cunt strangling me, sucking me deeper. I slide her off again and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, until white from the pressure. Her eyes bulge and beg for another. I thrust again, hard, slamming into her, my cock so deep I’d swear it was in her belly. She explodes around me in a flurry of pulsing muscles, a silent scream at her “O” shaped mouth. She rides me hard, her hands clamped to my shoulders, fingers digging into my flesh. Hair thrashing about her face, whipped into a fit. Her back pressed against the brick, I thrust into her again and again, each time claiming more of her for myself. Burying her face in my neck, she licks my throat up to my ear. The sensation rings in my balls and the force of the eruption rips a growl from deep in my chest.
“Your cock feels so good.” Her breathy, staccato whisper pushes me over and I empty myself into her as she rides her orgasm, her pussy crushes me with long, hard spasms. Crushing me in a death grip, her legs pulse around my waist, her arms languidly draped over my shoulders, she hangs on me like a limp rag doll.
“Mmm.” The smell of her hair is intoxicating, the scent of gardenias swirl around us in the heavy, rain filled air. I have to force myself to stop. I want to take her again, but not here. Out in the rain, exposed and on display. The thought makes me smile. She let me, not only that, but she dropped to her knees, right here on the pier.
“Never a dull moment,” I mutter as my cock slides from her, still standing at half mast, ready to go again. I nudge her with my nose and kiss the corner of her mouth. Her eyes are closed but she smiles, like a child pretending to sleep. “Let’s get out of here.” I pull her legs from my waist and lower her to the ground, careful to support her. She is shaking and slightly off balance. I pat myself on the back for that and roll her skirt down to cover her up, running my hands about her supple, heated skin. Her cheeks are littered with dust and pebbles, no doubt from where her skin met the brick wall.
“Sophie,” I whisper into her hair. It smells amazing, like rain and gardenias, and now us. Her skin glistens from the rain, or sweat, hard to tell which. She nuzzles against my neck and mutters under her breath before dragging her head back, her tired eyes meeting mine.
“We should get out of the rain.” I zip up and straighten her dress while she watches me, her eyes so appreciative and warm. I take her hand in mine, reminded of how much smaller, more delicate she is, although she would never admit to being delicate. Her short, slender fingers lace with mine, I bring her hand to my mouth, placing a feather light kiss against the back of her hand.
“That was amazing.” I stop and look down into her soft, satisfied eyes. “You are amazing.”
She smiles a perfect little smile. The kind that raises her apple cheeks and crinkles her eyes, my favorite smile. She buries herself under my arm, and we walk to the car in languid silence. A week ago I didn’t know her, now I can’t get enough. And tomorrow I will let her go. A nagging voice in the back of my mind tells me it isn’t going to be as easy as all that.
Chapter 20
I lay, rocked and exhausted in Rhys�
� strong arms, feeling his heart beat against my ear. I could lay this way for hours, basking in the slowly fading buzz of what he does to me, time and time again. Every time pushing me higher, farther, teasing me and testing me. My limits have been shattered by this man. I cannot believe that we had sex outside. I have never been so afraid and exhilarated. The thought of getting caught made me feel so naughty, and hot. His hunger for me is shocking and lovely. I am drained and renewed, all at once. He is quiet and his pulse is slow, controlled. Deep in thought, his soft fingers float over my skin, twist in my hair.
“She left.” The silence broken, I turn in his arms to see the hard planes of his face shadowed.
“Who?” I ask, wondering what one sided conversation he has just let escape his mind.
“My mother, when I was five.” His face twists into a sad scowl, but he is opening up.
“Oh.” I wait, not wanting to push, but intrigued by his unprovoked confession.
“Just like that.” He shakes his head, his eyes unfocused, lost. “She wanted more, whatever that means. Who does that?” I don’t know what to say, what to think. I want to hug him fiercely, prod for more information. I want to cry for his loss. I want to slap his ice queen of a mother. But I wait. Wait for him to finish, guiding me. To tell me what he needs. Filling his chest with a deep breath, I ride the wave of his expanding lungs and watch his warm eyes dull. “She broke his heart.”
“And yours, I would imagine.”
“I have never forgiven her. His eyes were so hollow. Even as I boy I could see him breaking in front of me. For years his eyes were hollow. I will never forget that, never forget what he looked like, what it felt like to watch him live completely broken.”
“I am so sorry, Rhys. I had no idea.” I cannot imagine a mother doing such a horrific thing, laying such a burden on such a young child; leaving your own child, willingly. What kind of person, indeed. “At least you have a relationship now.” Even though the thought of her now, standing at the bottom of the stairs provokes an entirely different response in my blood than it did this morning.
Whisper (The Voice trilogy Book 1) Page 19