by Laura Bailey
His hand held onto the back of her neck as he jerked hard against her, his balls slapping against her clitoris, sending her wild with the sensation.
He brought his hand back to spank her ass as his cock went as deep as it was possible. He reached under her and rubbed his fingers on her clitoris in a rhythm so fast that he had it pulsating shockingly in waves of sensation that ran through her body like electric, and though she came quickly, he didn’t release her but drove into her with a constant pounding, and she came once more as he exploded into her.
He pulled his cock out of her and she collapsed on the floor, lying there breathless and totally spent beneath him from his beautifully savage treatment of her.
He stood, walked to the bathroom and ran a bath. He returned to the bedroom, picked her up where she lay on the floor and carried her into the bath.
He sat on the edge of the bathtub in silence as she watched him, confused and concerned by the pain she had seen so clearly in his eyes just moments earlier. She didn’t know what lay behind it, but there was something so dark, a desolation so deep, that he did not wish to share with her, but that she had witnessed nervertheless.
He sat in silence, remote from her but not leaving her. As she climbed out of the bath, he wrapped the towel around her, drying her off gently.
Leading her by the hand back into the bedroom, he said, “I have a meeting shortly. You should go.”
She knew she couldn’t push things any further than she had. She didn’t understand him but he seemed unreachable in that moment. She got dressed and as she went to leave she looked over at him but he was standing by the window, his face turned away from her, lost in his own thoughts.
As she closed the door behind her, Damien sat down in one of the chairs by the window, relieved though guilty and ashamed of his behaviour. Not of the sex. He hadn’t hurt her, he would have known if he had, and he wasn’t trying to do that to her. He was angry at himself, not her. For entwining himself with her when there had been no need to continue with the charade. He knew for a fact that she was not involved in any part of Mike’s deception, and though he could try to pretend she was, he knew the truth. He was only pretending to himself. He was using it as an excuse to continue seeing her, telling himself he had to stay close to her and unmask her deception when there really was none.
She seemed to want to be with him, and that was where he had made the mistake, for her desire for him encouraged him to be with her when he knew he could not be, and his reason for pretending to himself that she bore any part in the theft was merely to allow himself to spend more time with her. Time that he knew could not lead anywhere.
He had displayed his anger and pain to her when it was not her fault and not her doing. He could not explain it to her. He didn’t even know how to. If she knew how damaged he was she wouldn’t want anything to do with him.
He knew however, that he could resolve the situation very quickly and very simply. Stop seeing her. He had no need to now, despite the addiction that had grown for her. He would bring it to an end.
He stood quickly, strode out of the room and down the hallway.
As Tara walked away from the Club, she had no-where to go but back to her apartment. Her thoughts turned to Damian’s revelation about Mike’s other woman. Anger bit into her again. She no longer had any feelings left for Mike now; he could rot for all she cared, but she hated lies and betrayal. It was the most destructive force there was.
When she reached home, she gathered whatever remained of Mike’s belongings and threw them into the trash can.
She lay back on her bed afterward, her body unable to forget the things she had done with Damien. Physically she could still feel the effects in her body, of his pounding on her, unable to forget that he had used her body like no man had ever done; the way in which he filled her inside was like nothing she had ever felt before, the sense of completeness binding her to him beyond logic. It was something she didn’t thing she would ever want to relinquish. She would take it, time and time again; until he had nothing left to give.
Chapter Six
Damien was in the office by 6am after a work-out at the gym. He had slept only fitfully, tossing and turning and fighting the urge to go to Tara’s apartment and take her again.
He was working on plans for a new security contract when Todd burst in without knocking.
“Boss, we got him.”
“Mike?”
“Yep. Down in Tijuana.”
“The money?”
“Got it back.”
Damian sat back, relief flooding him. “It would seem your legendary powers of persuasion worked well Todd. Good job,” he grinned.
Damien’s concerns hadn’t been so much about getting the money back; he was extremely wealthy, but it had been the risk to his reputation that he had been most determined to safeguard. If word had got out that someone had pulled this off, it wouldn’t have looked good in the business he was in. He was satisfied now to know that his reputation remained intact.
“Todd. I knew why I’d never let you go work for anyone else.” He stood gripping Todd’s hand, shaking it hard.
“You are quite simply the best. Thank you.”
“Anytime!” Todd laughed.
“And where’s Mike now?”
“Ah...he won’t be going anywhere for a very long time. I hear the Prison system in Mexico is not the most liberal.”
“Good decision. I would have killed him if you’d brought him back. Just clarify one thing for me. The fiancée, Tara. Did she have anything at all to do with it? When you got hold of Mike what did he say about her?”
“There was no implication from him that she had anything to do with it, no; and at the time of questioning, quite honestly, I think he would have been happy to implicate anyone else if he could have squirmed his way out of it.”
“Who helped him in this?”
“Sabre.”
“You’re kidding me,” although Damien knew Todd wasn’t. Damien and Marc Chambers, owner of Sabre Security, had a long history; it went way back to their time in the Special Forces and a long standing rivalry. Chambers hated him, and the feeling was mutual, for good reason.
Damien would deal with that; in his own way, in his own time.
Todd left him to his thoughts. “Let me know if you need a hand with him boss.”
“Will do.”
Sitting considering how to play it with Chambers, Damien felt suddenly deflated and hollow. It was over. Done. The chase had ended, but much more than that, he no longer had any reason left to see Tara. He could relinquish her now, return to his ordered life and continue as before, and as he recognised this he felt a sadness inside that was unjustifiable. He had known her only such a short time, it should be simple to extricate her from his life, and yet he knew that he did not want to. He wanted to ignore the facts, go time and time again to the room and find her there, waiting for him.
As he sat planning his course of action against Chambers, it gave him something to focus on, and it gave him some satisfaction to have someone to go after, but it held none of the thrill he had experienced in the last few days with Tara. That was something of an entirely different level, but he had to face it; he had to tell her that things were resolved, that their business was at an end, and that she was free. He picked up his phone with determination and sent her a text.
“Meet me in the room, this evening; collect the key from reception, 7pm.”
He called the Club and made the reservation for the room. Immediately he was angry with himself for telling her to go to the room. He could have told her what he needed to, just as easily in the Bar downstairs, or over the telephone. They did not need the room anymore.
He left his office and went to find Todd and Brenton, seeking distraction. Finding Brenton in the kitchen, Damien sat with him and discussed some issues they needed to sort out with a current security contract.
The day passed quickly once Damien focussed, and leaving the office later, he felt pleas
ed that he had agreed with Brenton and Todd on a plan of action for Chambers, once the dust had settled. He could wait. Damien would enjoy taking slow revenge with him.
Arriving at the Club he went straight upstairs. Opening the door to their room, he found her lying on the bed. She was wearing a short cream dress and he drew breath at the sight of her. God he wanted her so badly.
He remained standing.
“We got him. He’s not coming back. He exonerated you completely. You’re released from the contract. I came only to tell you that. You’re free.”
Her brows knotted together. She didn’t move; her deep blue eyes stared at him, so serious.
“You have no need to remain here.”
“I want to.” Fear at losing him creeping inside of her, gripping her. “I want you to do what you did to me before.”
He stared at her, angry with her, fighting the conflict inside of him.
“Do what you want with me,” she said.
He remained silent, unmoving.
She began to raise the dress up her legs, over her hips.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You signed the contract.”
“I have the money back.”
“I’ve read the Contract. It doesn’t state the reason for it. The only words in it are that I’m to be available to you always, to satisfy every sexual desire you have. We have a Contract. You signed it.”
Chapter Seven
He showed no restraint, he had no need to; she had given him her validation.
He thought of nothing beyond the physical, satisfying himself through her, focussed only on the shades of her eyes as they darkened, taking him further to the edge, as they encouraged him to leave the boundaries of normality. He thrust himself into her, his hands pinning hers up against the headboard, strident hard thrusts into her, his lips going to the side of her neck, biting it. She was pinned down underneath him, his size and power overwhelming her. Suddenly he withdrew from her and grabbed her hips, raising her up to his mouth, forcing her into his mouth; her legs going around his neck to hold herself on to him. Voraciously he sucked her into his mouth, tasting her, inhaling her, her thighs squeezing his neck as the intensity of his tongue provoked a fire in her, her hands raking his back, his hands covering her breasts possessively, unwilling to release them. It was almost a violent mating, a bonding to each other. Total possession, obsession; unremitting.
After she came, he released her and she pushed him back and climbed on top of him, riding him hard, her fingers locked in his short hair until he pried her off, slapping her for being too rough, for she had almost pulled out his hair. Refinement at this stage was lost on her.
The night became a long one of pure carnal gratification until, as the sun came up, they were finally replete. Neither had wanted to cease or concede.
He left her lying in the bed half asleep as she heard the door close behind him.
Chapter Seven
Three days passed; Tara waiting for him to contact her, but no call came. She spent the time doing very little, feeling restless; having no job to go to and no money to go anywhere. She had expected his call at any moment, had craved it, and yet as the hours had passed, slow winding hours, she had veered from anger to panic. Panic at never hearing from him again when her body had become so attuned to him, and anger at his use of her; a use that was now clearly evident in his abandonment of her.
Abandoned twice in so short a time. She cared little for Mike now, caring more for the financial loss, than she did for him. His infidelity had ruined her love for him, and his draining of their joint bank account had ruined her financial security. She now had nothing, and no legal right to work in the country. Damien’s abandonment was not of a practical nature such as that but it was worse; it felt that her heart was shattering, breaking piece by piece as each hour passed without his presence or contact; his voice which could soothe her yet command her to the heights of passion, and his body which had taken her to the most extremes of pleasure, were absent now and she was bereft.
The thought of never seeing his startling green eyes as they seared into her, sparred with her, overruled her and dominated her. Though she had known him for just days, and though their interaction had been solely of a physical nature, he had entered her life with a blaze of fire, an indomitable force of presence, that the impact of thinking she had lost him shattered her, and her anger threatened to destroy her. She was furious at him for having seemingly discarded her as something unnecessary to him now; unneeded and irrelevant, despite the intensity of their lovemaking and the voracious need he had shown for her.
It did not make sense to her that he could dismiss her so easily, forsake what they had done together with such ease. How could it have meant nothing to him? When to her, it had become an obsession to her body and her mind.
Whilst he had forced her to repay him by creating The Contract, she knew she had not gone along with it for that reason; and she had grown to believe he had not either. She had done it because she could not deny that from the moment she had met him, his power had pulled her in; she was lost in him. The moment she had set eyes on him, felt his touch, given into his uninhibited sexuality, she had become his.
Was he married? Living with someone? The thought made her feel sick, and she realised she knew so little about him; virtually nothing. When Mike had talked about him, it had been purely on a professional basis, describing his legendary actions in the Military, and his leadership ability at the Company; nothing had ever been mentioned about his private life.
Was the cold harsh truth that he had just wanted her as his whore, to exact his revenge on Mike, and that he felt nothing for her?
She couldn’t feel violated because she had willingly allowed him, had fully encouraged him, had even provoked him to use her body.
He had such arrogance to believe that he could use her like that, but she was angry with herself too, knowing she had partly caused it, that she had been in cohorts with him right from the moment he had first touched her. She had been his willing accomplice in the arrangement and she had orchestrated her own downfall.
She wished she had not let him use her like that and yet in her heart she knew if he were to appear in front of her now, she would shed her clothes for him without hesitation. She wanted him more than ever.
Chapter Eight
Damien was aware of the tightening sensation in his chest when he thought of her. He could also hardly fail to notice the physiological changes his body underwent at the mere thought of her body. Recalling the extremes of their encounters, the abandon with which her body responded to him, gave him an instant hard on, often at the office. He was fortunate to have his own executive suite, for it would have been obvious to his employees the state he frequently found himself in. He had thought retrieving the money, being able to focus his energy and thoughts on slow revenge against Marc Chambers, would have kept him more than satisfied, and yet she had come to him in his dreams, and the images of their sex in the cold light of day transported him straight back to the room in which their encounters had taken place.
He remembered every detail. The way in which his body responded to hers, the carnal ferocity with which he responded, astonished him. He had never behaved like that before, and she had seemed to feed off of it, driving him further. Without it now, he had no other outlet in which to feel that intensity, to render it void by replacement; he had no other form of deliverance.
His mood had become harsher, hardened by the knowledge that he could not have her, that theirs had been a relationship that had had to end; that it was an impossibility. It was not something he could do. He was not able. The demons inside of him would only destroy it, destroy them.
In that instant he resolved to go on the trip one of his team were making to Somalia, departing that evening. A Black Operation to extract a known terrorist. He needed purpose, focus, distraction and normality, and for him this was it. He disliked anything but total control in his life, control over his emoti
ons. Order and uniformity.
His company performed black ops, strictly non-legitimate rendition of terrorists that, though paid for by the Government, were unaccountable and deniable by those who sanctioned them. Damien looked beyond politicians covering their asses and believed in the purpose of protecting citizens from mass murder. He believed it was a noble cause for which many of his fellow soldiers had died, and for which millions of civilians’ lives were made safer.
Chapter Nine
Tara looked at the bedside alarm clock again; it was 2.46 am and she couldn’t sleep. She sat up in bed and grabbed her cell phone, tears threatening to come. She typed in the words.
“Meet me in the room, tonight.”
She sent the text and lay back down, wishing texts could be retrieved before the recipient received them, her face hot with embarrassment at what she had just done. She had done it with full intent, but now she felt humiliated by admitting her need for him when he was clearly showing no interest, and she felt mortified at the thought of him being woken by the text at this hour. She fervently hoped his phone was on silent.
She switched on her bedside radio, tuning it into a late night talk show hoping it would distract her thoughts.
The noise inside the military aircraft made any conversation impossible as they sat on the benches of the carrier, nothing like the more comfortable seats found in a commercial passenger airplane. But they weren’t along for the comfort. He was taking a lead on this one, and had briefed the men as to the plans prior to embarking. As each man sat with their private thoughts, Damien was focused fully on their objective, running through scenarios of how it would pan out as he read the intelligence reports, and formulating contingency plans that they may need to ensure the operations was successful.