by Laura Bailey
He lay on top of her, his arms enclosing her as he recovered, their scents mingling together.
“Come and shower with me, let me wash you,” he said into her ear in his deep seductive drawl that she had missed so badly.
He lifted her from the bed, holding her in his arms as he carried her into the bathroom and turned on the water, testing the heat before placing her under it and joining her.
In the warmth of the water, he knelt, pulling her to him with his hands around her buttocks as he kissed her stomach, trailed his lips down to her soft mound and put his face between her thighs, kissing her there, and she watched him as the water flowed over his head, his lips caressing her so tenderly. With the most erotic of strokes, he took her slowly to climax again, his tongue thick and hot against her clitoris as he lapped at her, holding her buttocks, pressing her tightly against his face as she shuddered to orgasm, her fingers grabbing his hair as she pulled his mouth tighter against her.
Standing up, he reached for the soap and rubbed it into his hands. He washed every part of her body, carefully, gently; his hands soothing and relaxing her, and she felt her love for him grow again in those moments.
As he washed himself she watched in awe at his beauty and masculinity, following his hands as he covered his body with them.
She bent down in front of him and took his cock into her mouth, his erection instant as she took him inside again.
She sucked him, feeling his cock as it throbbed inside her mouth, devoted to his magnificent body, wanting to devour him. He had to stop her before she made him come in her mouth, so close was he.
Pulling her by her arms he raised her up to chest level, his hands going to her beautiful petite breasts, as his mouth covered hers. Lifting her leg, he rested it in the crook of his arm and leant her back against the wall. Entering her smoothly, his head went to the side of her neck as he pushed deep inside of her, taking her fast, pounding into her with an animal need, pumping hard inside of her.
Afterward, he pulled her out of the shower, sat her on the edge of the bath and wrapped the towel round her, drying her body with it before drying his own, and then carried her back to the bedroom.
Laying her down on the bed, he lay on top of her, kissing her as he stroked her hair away from her face, moving down to kiss her breasts and holding them together in his palms as he sucked her nipples into his mouth.
“Are you hungry Tara?”
“A little, are you?”
“Very. I’ll run down and get something for us. There’s a restaurant on the corner. Would you like some champagne brought up while I’m gone? ”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
He leapt from the bed, and again she was reminded of his extraordinary level of fitness and the tightness of his body as she watched him dressing.
“Won’t be long.”
He bent and kissed her forehead.
He walked the short distance to the restaurant and ordered a range of dishes for them to share.
As he waited for them to be prepared, he sat restlessly, conflict building in him again.
He wanted this woman more than he could ever have imagined possible, and yet he could never let her in; He couldn’t let anyone need him, depend on him, for he would only let them down. He couldn’t save everyone. He couldn’t be held responsible for caring for her, and he didn’t deserve to make her happy. He didn’t deserve happiness. He had long ago accepted that fate.
His head began to pound again. He feared a resurgence of the demons that seemed to have intensified so increasingly since he had met Tara. Before her, they had been in abeyance, his darkest moments infrequent, until she had come along and made him care for her; ripped his carefully controlled world apart. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
She was going to destroy him.
As he walked fast back to the hotel with the food, he knew he would take it out on her, he knew what he wanted to do next to her, and he felt his cock go hard just at the thought of it.
Despite his pressing need for her, he allowed her to eat dinner before they began again, spreading it out on the table for her to help herself.
They sat opposite each other at the table, and she looked at him, feeling the distance too great between them. She needed to be touching him constantly, such was the strength of her desire for him, her addiction like a craving that never abated, her thoughts turning to dark desires as she looked into his eyes, so strong and penetrating.
“Are you enjoying it?
“The food? Yes, it’s delicious, thank you. Damien, do you really think the police suspect you?”
“I don’t know yet. My lawyer is making subtle enquiries inside the police station. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”
“But how can you say that?”
“I’ve been in worse situations. It will work itself out. Rest assured. Now eat up. I have plans for you my dear.”
She wished she could have his confidence, but she returned his comment with a smile, worried inside but trying not to let him see it.
As they finished their meal, Damien poured the champagne, handing her a glass.
Standing over her, he said, “Stand up Tara.”
He took her hand as she stood, and led her to the bed.
“Take everything off for me.”
He began to undress as he watched her removing her dress.
They watched each other in silence as they took their clothes off.
Tara looked from his chest down and saw him erect already as he lay down on his back, watching her as she lowered her panties and stepped out of them.
“Come here. On top of me, love.”
She climbed onto the bed, thinking he wanted her to ride him.
“Higher, bring your pussy to my face, I want to taste you.”
Easing her knees higher on the bed she moved upward until her thighs were on either side of his head and he reached for her hips.
He pulled her down hard, onto his lips.
His mouth sucked her pussy hungrily as he pulled her into his mouth, his hands holding her tight in position. He wanted to be covered in her scent, feel her dripping on his mouth.
“Ride me Tara, come all over my lips.”
He pulled on her hips, pushing her back and forth to encourage her, and as he did so the sensation against her clitoris was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced, as it rubbed against his lips, his tongue coming out to lap at her clitoris, strong hard licks that made her clitoris throb and sent waves of pleasure building in intensity through her body. Instinctively she rolled her hips, seeking his tongue, pushing down harder onto his mouth, her head arching back as the sensuality of his actions took her further into abandon, his hands gripping her buttocks as he lapped at her juice flowing onto his lips.
“Come all over me.”
Unable to stop, she rode his face, rubbing herself all over his lips, her hips rocking wildly as she sought only her climax, her hands gripping his hair as her actions became frenzied, all focus lost except for the throbbing of her clitoris and her need to come on him.
He began to spank her buttocks, encouraging her, pushing her further in her transgression, and each slap took her closer to orgasm and she exploded hard against his mouth, her cries loud and guttural.
Flipping her over quickly onto her stomach, he pushed her thighs wide apart and entered her instantly, his cock so hard that he knew he would not last long. The frenzy of her cunt on his face, the scent it, had driven him insane and he needed to come urgently, needed to pound her hard and fill her with his come.
Her body drove him to the edge of his resistance, he couldn’t hold back with her, he needed her like the sweetest of drugs, like his body became whole again once inside her.
Pulling out of her quickly he turned her over. He needed to see her eyes, needed to see their desire for him, needed them to feed him as he buried himself inside of her.
He drove into her with long strokes, his hands gripping her a
rms, pinning them above her head, throwing back his head as he exploded inside of her, his eyes like a stormy green sea as she joined him in climax, her legs wrapped around his waist.
He took her again shortly after, lifting her up onto his cock, pressing her down on it to ride him, and as her breasts swayed he brought them to his mouth, sucking a nipple as she rocked against his cock, loosing herself in her rhythm as he reached for her hair, gripping the length of it in his fist possessively as he felt her come on his cock, her thighs locked in tension until she collapsed down onto him, her legs weak and shaking from the waves of pleasure that had rolled through her body from his cock inside of her.
Lifting her gently off him he lay her on her side, lifted her leg and rammed his cock inside her from behind, filling her instantly as he pounded into her without gentleness, the animal in him driving him on, seeking only release again through her beautiful body.
She felt like an addiction to him, of the most illicit kind, the curves of her body, her warmth, and her total abandon to him.
“I’m not letting you go Tara. I can’t,” she heard him say, his mouth so close to her ear.
Moving around to climb on top of her, he thrust into her again, deep and full thrusts, each time taking her closer to orgasm once again, his ability to make her come multiple times astonishing her, binding her to him in a dangerous way, knowing she would never find this again.
Eventually, they had no more left to give each other, and they fell asleep, Tara curled up against him as he held her in his arms.
Chapter Twenty Five
She woke suddenly and realised the bed was empty. It was not yet light and she wondered where he was. The light of the bathroom was off and he was not in there. There was no-where else for him to be in the small hotel room. She sat up. She looked on the floor and his clothes were gone.
He had left her in the middle of the night.
She put the bedside light on, confused at first, and then realised that this was what he always did. He never stayed with her. Why would tonight have been any different?
Her hand went to the Tiffany necklace around her throat, holding onto the pendant.
He would never have contacted her, had the police not become involved. Were it not for the terrible circumstances, she would still be in London now, alone. Once the situation they found themselves in had been resolved, he would return her to London again, in the blink of an eye, just as easily as before; disposing of her once more.
She had resolved on her trip over here, not to let him hurt her again, and here she was, falling for him all over again, letting him do whatever he wanted to her, encouraging him to hurt her. She needed to stop. She had to be as cold as him. She wished she had it in her.
She lay back down. There was nothing she could do about it at that moment.
She drifted back to sleep, her body exhausted and aching from making love so excessively with Damien.
She felt a hand on her face, and jumped in alarm. Opening her eyes, she saw Damien staring down at her, sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed.
“God, you frightened me!”
She had no idea what the time was but the sun was bright through the curtains.
“Good morning Sleepyhead. You’re body clock is probably all over the place.”
He was smiling, oblivious to her thoughts.
“I have to get to work for an early meeting. Come to the office when you’re ready my love.”
Sitting up she stared at him.
“You left last night.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“I told you. I don’t work for you.”
“I thought we discussed this.”
“We didn’t discuss anything. You simply told me.”
“I will see you there as soon as possible.”
He bent and kissed her cheek.
As he turned to leave, oblivious to her annoyance at his nonchalant behaviour, she saw her shoes lying bedside the bed. Reaching down she grabbed one and hurled it at his head, narrowly missing him. She threw the other one for good measure, the heel hitting him squarely between the shoulders as she let out a scream of frustration.
He merely laughed, picked the shoes up off the floor where they had landed and took them with him.
Closing the door of the hotel room he laughed out loud. God she was wild. He loved that about her.
He felt a little guilty that he had left her alone last night. He had driven back to his flat, changed and gone for a jog. Shattered and exhausted though he had been from their frenzied love making, his head had begun to pound as he had woken up in the darkness with her. He had needed to get out. He had dreamt of an old friend he had not been able to reach in time, had watched helplessly as his friend was gunned down in cold blood metres away from him by an enemy combatant, Damien unable to reach him, too busy fighting others firing straight at him from all directions, pinned down under a savage attack. He’d had to leave.
Tara stormed into the shower. She took her time, trying to calm down and stop the anger running through her, tried to stop thinking about the insensitivity and sheer arrogance of the man.
She ran rang room service and ordered breakfast. She was starving.
Waiting for it to come, she combed her wet hair and watched the breakfast news, suddenly wondering if the disappearance of Marc Chambers would be in the newspapers. She would pick one up when she went out.
She needed to buy some clothes; she had brought very little and now it seemed she would be staying here for a while.
She would also need to let Joseph know; he was going to find it peculiar that she had just left without telling him, and she wondered if it might be better for Damien to tell him.
There was a knock on the door and she opened it to see a member of the hotel bringing up her breakfast.
As she sat eating it she watched the news headlines, but to her relief there was no mention of Chambers. She had to admit she was finding the whole thing almost surreal, as though none of it could really be happening. She wanted to pretend it was not real. She wished the threat would disappear, because when Damien wasn’t with her, she felt scared.
After breakfast she dressed quickly, picked up her handbag and left the room.
Downstairs she booked another night at reception.
She headed down the sidewalk to the subway station, intending to go shopping for some clothes and toiletries. She would be spending Damien’s money but she had no choice, she had not been paid by Joseph yet.
Grabbing a newspaper by the entrance to the subway, she scanned it as she rode the metro.
Her heart started beating fast when she saw a small headline a couple of pages inside the newspaper, mentioning Chambers’ disappearance. Though nothing written pointed to Damien, it made the situation feel very real to her in that moment. She closed the newspaper and placed it on the seat beside her, wishing it to go away. Reaching for her iPod she turned some music on to take her thoughts away.
Reaching the plaza with the shops she wanted to visit, she buried her thoughts and focussed on picking up some items of clothing she knew she would need; some dresses, jeans, tops, a jacket, and some lingerie.
She realised Damien had walked off with her favourite shoes after she had thrown them at him. She hoped he hadn’t thrown them in a trash can somewhere. She picked up another couple of pairs of shoes. Carrying all of her bags, she found a coffee shop to have a much needed coffee before heading to Damien’s office. She knew he was expecting her there and that if she didn’t show he would only come for her back at her hotel. But if he thought she was going to buckle down and get to work, he had another think coming.
It was just after two when she exited the elevator on the top floor of the building which housed his office. Looking around the room as she entered, seeing a roomful of men, she felt shy and self-conscious again. She recognised a couple of them from the time they had been at Damien’s house, guarding her.
She heard Damien’s voi
ce suddenly from across the room, where he stood talking to Brenton.
“Tara. Go to my office please.”
Immaculately dressed, his figure stunning as always in one of his sharply tailored suits; the crisp white shirt fitted to perfection across his chest, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as she made her way to his room.
Following shortly behind her, he went straight to the blinds at the windows and closed them. Though they were up on the top floor, other offices were across from his in the building opposite.
His face was fixed as he turned round, a muscle at the side of his jaw flexing with anger.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Out.” She met his eyes head on. “Oh, and can I have my shoes back please?”
He started laughing. “You’re astonishing; we’re in the middle of a murder investigation, only for me to find you’ve completely disappeared for hours, with no idea of where you’ve gone, I call the hotel and you are not there. I don’t know if the police have picked you up for questioning and hauled you away, and you’re concerned about your shoes!”
He continued to laugh; the tension he had felt when he had discovered her missing flooding out of him, her flagrantly carefree attitude like a breath of fresh air amid the turmoil.
“You seem to have an inability to understand that you are not free to come and go just as you please. I explicitly told you we need to keep as close together as possible in the circumstances, and instead you choose to go wandering off for hours, without telling me. Your behaviour is completely unacceptable.”
“Really?” she replied with sarcasm. “You have no right whatsoever to tell me how to behave.”