Possessed by a Stranger

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Possessed by a Stranger Page 13

by Jeny Stone


  “Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Garret shook the dust off his shirt before slipping it over his head.

  Hannah dusted the remaining dirt off his shirt. “I couldn’t sit down and eat with your parents after we just defiled their home. Oh, there’s also the fact they’re going to see that portrait. That would make for some interesting dinner conversation.”

  Garret smoothed his hands down her arms. He definitely wasn’t done with her yet. He rested his hands on her waist. “I defiled you, not the house. I don’t recall hearing any complaints. You should stay.”

  She leaned her head on his chest touching him with her hands. “Thank you but there’s no way I’m staying.”

  “There’s no reason to thank me. I told you I would strip and take care of business anytime you wanted. It’s a curse and we are just going to have to learn to live with it,” He kissed the top of her head breathing in her scent. His dick stiffened with the thought of the night he had planned for her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They walked outside after safely by-passing his parents. His mother and father hadn’t even seen the portrait yet and she couldn’t face them. Her extreme modesty was an endearing quality that thankfully hadn’t branched out to include when she was with him. He glided his finger over the soft curve of her cheek down to her chin.

  “You should let me drive you home.” Watching her walk away from him was going to be unbearable. He was obsessed with her and he needed to discover why, so he could control the situation. It was just sex. Great sex, but still, just sex. The mystery of her name and location was solved so what else was there about her?

  “I would really like to walk. You can give Pops the portrait while I’m not there.” Hannah giggled shaking her head. “You realize he’s a dirty old man, don’t you? He knew what that portrait looked like.”

  Garret chuckled. “He was a ladies man back in his prime. He’s probably the only one that will think of your great grandmother when he sees the picture.”

  She stepped into him placing her hands on his chest. She would never get enough of him. Not wanting to sound clingy she formed a casual invitation. “Why don’t you stop by later and see what I’ve done to the cottage?”

  “I had already planned on it. I might even take the time to see your cottage.” His hands cupped her face as he reclaimed her luscious lips.

  The walk home allowed Hannah time to rearrange all the thoughts swirling around in her mind. Garret Presley, ruthless business man, confirmed bachelor, and her sexy mystery man jumped to the front and center. He was a dangerous man on so many levels. They were polar opposites and she should run as far away from him as possible. But some magnetic force pulled them together. One wonderful night was easily remembered without regrets. With no connections, other than sex, she had walked away from him and started a new life.

  He was now in that new life with two miles of separation and possibly more wonderful nights. Her rational mind said run, save your heart. Her starving body said, grab on tight and ride the wave. Her heart pitter-patted, against all odds, wanting to be filled whether or not it burst into a million pieces at the end of the ride.

  Inside her cottage she prepared for his visit. She arranged a silver serving tray, crystal glasses, and an unopened bottle of scotch on her sideboard. Come on, why had she attempted to debate a relationship with Garret? She had bought the scotch specifically with him in mind. Although, even at the time of the purchase she tried to convince herself the scotch was memorabilia of a wonderful night. Hurrying upstairs to shower and change, the battle of what was appropriate to wear raged in her thoughts.

  Freshly showered, clad in her satin robe, she stared in her closet. She systematically filed through each piece of clothing hanging on the wooden rod eliminating choices as she went, too long, too short, too hard to remove, too easy to remove, doorbell… She froze with her listening ears on high. A loud flat handed pound on her front door reached her ears. She was half way down the stairs before she realized she moved.

  Hannah carefully opened the door, seeing as how this time, she didn’t want to knock him off her stoop. The wolfish gleam in his eyes, the wicked grin on his lips, knocked her for a loop. She was a goner without a glimmer of doubt. Garret stood to the side of the doorway holding the painting. Her heart soared ecstatic with relief.

  “You brought the painting. How did you get Pops to give it up?” Her eyes darted around him checking to see if any prying eyes saw the painting, even though her nearest neighbors were the Presley’s.

  He entered the cottage pulling the door shut. “You can thank my mother. She didn’t consider this art.”

  His mother had yelled at him for exposing Hannah to such pornography. She blamed Pops and criticized them both for embarrassing Hannah so badly she snuck out of the house. If his mother only knew what had transpired in the attic and the pornographic things he intended for Hannah now.

  Her cheeks warmed knowing his parents had seen her naked. Not really, but hell, she felt as if they had. “I take it she noticed the resemblance.”

  Her blush was a warning not to tease. “That’s an understatement. Where do you want it?”

  “I have no idea.” Her mind was totally blank. She loved the painting but no one could see it as long as she resembled her great grandmother. Maybe, when she was old, fat and wrinkled, but not now.

  He knew the perfect place for the portrait. She would never allow anyone to see this portrayal into her intimate life. He couldn’t have asked for a better security guard to protect his claim.

  “It’s going over your bed. It will mark my territory.” Taking the stairs two at a time he ascended the stairs.

  Quickening her steps she followed him agilely bounding in front of her. What territory had he meant? She wasn’t sure but she liked the sound of him marking anything that concerned her. He opened the door to his right which she had converted into her office.

  “Nice office. You’ve really done wonders with this cottage.”

  She found it amusing he invaded her home with a confident air. “Thank you. I added a balcony across the back. I have doors in here and in my bedroom.”

  “That means this is your bedroom.” Pointing across the hall he took several long strides to the other door. Turning the door knob he opened the door and walked into her bedroom. “Not bad. I expected lots of pink and ruffles. Maybe, flowers and stuffed animals.”

  The room was furnished with large sturdy furniture accented with earthy hues in the drapes and bed clothes. The décor wasn’t girly as he expected, instead it was warmly neutral and welcoming. Without anything glaringly pointing you toward the conclusion, the room whispered of being outdoors. He leaned the painting against the dresser.

  “Do I look twelve?” Laughing at his assumption of pink, ruffles, and stuffed animals, she proudly watched him admire her work. The portrait blended perfectly with the room.

  “If you did, I wouldn’t be here. How old are you?” Her talent astounded him in the subtlety of her work. She gave the rooms a personality that you felt rather than a certain look to guide you.

  He was inspecting the private sanctum of her bedroom as if he were a prospective buyer, opening the closet door, peering into the master bath, checking out the view from the windows.

  “Twenty-four…how old are you?” She already knew his age. He was notable enough to be easily found when Googled. The thirty-two year-old wealthy, successful bachelor had a multitude of hits including her search last night. After discovering his true identity her curiosity had won and she read everything she could find on Google regarding Garret Presley. There were a lot of desperate women out there looking for Mr. Right. (Lucky for her he walked into a bar at the right moment.)

  Garret sought her sparkling blue eyes before he answered. Her age wasn’t an issue for him after confirming she was a respectable age with an impressive maturity level.

  “Thirty-two.” He waited for her reaction to their age difference. The sensual smile that graced her lips was the r
eassurance he wanted.

  “Good, I’ve always heard it takes men longer to mature.” She gravitated toward him being drawn by seductive eyes. Garret invitingly held out his hand. His eyes glossed as he grazed lengthily down her body leaving tremors on their path. His gaze caressed her as efficiently as his hands. She accepted his large hand. It was the part of him that held his strength. His hands made her feel small in comparison yet protected. She pushed yesterday’s events out of her thoughts. Her stomach twitched, knotted, feeling his warm strong grip.

  “It was thoughtful of you to dress for easy accessibility.” His thumb slipped under the half-knot of her satin robe’s belt, pulling it free.

  His insinuation sent a heated flush to her cheeks. After he swept into her home with the portrait she had forgotten her attire. She blurted an explanation. “No, I didn’t. I was about to dress when you arrived.” His devilish grin eased her embarrassment.

  His hands slipped into the opening of her robe to grasp her waist. “I was teasing. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Oh wait, you aren’t wearing any, are you?”

  A seductive gleam glazed his piercing eyes electrifying her need for him. “I can sure as hell go put some on.” She teasingly warned, confident he would rip her panties off if she did. She raised her head to meet his impatient lips. A lustful heat formed in her chest, billowing up to her throat.

  Her lips, supple and delicious, eagerly embraced his. The sweet taste of her filled him with savage hunger for more. He hesitated his kiss as he ripped his shirt over his head, letting it fly out of his hand. His yearning body ached to feel her warm bare flesh against his. Her hands smoothed over his chest alternating her silky fingertips with her fingernails bringing every nerve ending to the surface of his yearning flesh. The heat of her moist lips pressed into chest. After taking a hand full of condoms out of his pocket and placing them on her nightstand, he unfastened his shorts. They dropped to the floor and he kicked them off his feet.

  She could easily drive him out of control with her softly sensual touch, her delicious aroma, and her eyes begging him to devour her. When his body was starved for sex, like now, he preferred to control his pleasure leisurely extending his arousal. Right now, he wanted to savor every inch of her, without the distraction of her titillating touch.

  “I should have brought my handcuffs. This bed is perfectly suited for them.” He searched her eyes for any reaction to his proposition finding a glimmer of curiosity. “If you’re not ready to trust me that far now, you will.”

  His voice teased. His eyes questioned with a serious longing. Her heart pounded madly as she contemplated his stomach twitching proposition. An erotic fire burned inside her at the thought of being completely under his control. Her body belonged to him. He read her needs like a favorite book knowing what she wanted better than her. She trusted him to satisfy her in every way possible.

  She looked at the iron headboard with its top rail and evenly spaced rods. Her eyes drifted back to his. His wolfish glare filled with a ravenous craving spun her into a quivering wanton ball of clay ready to be molded to fit his needs. With her hand on his stomach, she walked around him. He turned with her as if glued to her hand. She loosened the silky scarf tying her drapes open. Handing him the long scarf, she smiled, consenting to his request.

  “You should learn to be creative. You can use this…I know what it’s been tying up.”

  His stomach jerked with lustful anticipation pulling on his balls. This woman surprised him at every turn. The more of her mystery he uncovered the more mysterious she became.

  “Point taken. I’m about to show you how creative I can be.” He slipped her robe off her shoulders exposing the treasures she offered him so willingly. He watched her robe crumble on the floor. Beyond waiting another second, he picked her up with his hands around her waist tossing her into the middle of the bed. She squealed from his sudden motion then laughed with delightful glee in her voice. She squealed again when he dove on top of her catching his weight with his arms.

  Her arms and legs captured his muscular body hovering over her. “I thought you were going to squash me.” His eyes portrayed the thirst of a man lost in the desert and she was the lifesaving glass of water. She wanted him to gulp her down then ask for a refill.

  “No chance of that. I have other plans for you.” His mouth covered her perfect lips. Her sweet taste filled him with anticipation of the long overdue play date. He was about to lose himself in her warm eager body wrapped around him when he forced his arms to push him away. He needed a long hard night with her to get his fill. He propped a pillow on the headboard. Grasping her under her arms he leaned her on the pillow. His lips grazed over hers as he untwined her arms from his neck.

  “I promise we both will remember this night. I’m a man of my word.”

  She knew he spoke words of truth from the guttural tone of his voice. Tremors of anticipation spread over her body following the heated path of her exploding desires. There wasn’t any doubt he would hold true to his promise. She watched as he bound her hands separately with about six inches of scarf between them. His muscles visually tensed, his eyes drew her into their depths and she willingly complied.

  “Grab the top rail.” His throaty voice commanded his orders. He guided her hands holding the center of the scarf.

  The thought of being his captive was heatedly stimulating knowing any lingering inhibitions would be taken out of her control. She reached above her head to grasp the top rail. He straddled her tying the ends of the scarf to the rail. She kissed his chest feeling him shudder as she ran her tongue around his nipple. He finished his task settling back to his knelt position. His breathing was shallow and beads of perspiration formed on his brow as he smiled devilishly.

  He admired his handiwork trailing his gaze over his beautiful possession. “I’ll stop anytime you want. Just say stop. I’ve got a lot of making up to do after waiting on you.”

  “I know exactly how you feel.” She whispered lost in her licentious cravings to be ravaged repeatedly by the virile wanting man before her.

  With her arms stretched above her head she was exposed, helpless, and torturously aroused by the predatory look in his eyes. A tremble started in her chest infecting her body as he gazed over her. On his knees at her thighs he leaned forward bracing his hands on the bed. Crouched over her, his lips possessed hers feeding her need for him. Instinctively, her arms tugged against the silky binding wanting to touch him, to wrap around him. She was fueled with a hot flow of desire.

  His total control or her lack of any control was intensely arousing. Her skin tingled with millions of pin pricks of anticipating his touch. He nuzzled her neck caressing her pleasure zone with his warm breath. She felt the tip of his manhood trail over her stomach up to her cleavage as he kneeled over her. Her body’s movements compensated for her bondage. Her need to touch was transferred from her hands to her body and lips. He held his engorged shaft as she moved her head to hungrily take him in her mouth. His deep groan lengthened as she transported her ravishing need to his bulging manhood.

  Garret was driven to lustful heights by her open appreciation. His overactive libido normally diminished after being fed. But the more he had of her, the more he wanted. He was insatiable in his need for her and gratifyingly she reciprocated with her need for him.

  The length of her bindings allowed him to twist and turn her with ease. She eagerly complied accentuating his need to control her. The pillows propping her upper half gave her and him an intimate view of his activities. He forced her to quake in a gratifying release time after time reveling in her ecstatic acceptance.

  Consumed by the persistent urge for release he glided inside her with her slender legs wrapped around his waist as he knelt in front of her. Her hands grasped the rail suspending her body off the bed to the pleasure of his eyes. His muscles engaged in a rapturous frenzy fighting for relief. His thrust deepened, quickened, as the vision cascaded him into lustful bliss. After mere moments to recuperate the eroti
c vision infiltrated his mind jump starting his urges. He flipped her over on her knees with her hands still on the rail as he urgently repeated the vision from behind. Guiding her by her tiny waist he watched his dick dive inside her, emerging dripping with her juices. Her silky flesh gleamed with moisture trembling beneath his hands. His balls contracted with a crushing need forcing a devastatingly explosive release. He held tight inside her as he felt her muscles contracting around him. They convulsed in unison. Staying joined in the pleasurable moment he collapsed sideways pinning her into him.

  He felt her relax with their breaths calming from their erratic gasps. He nuzzled her neck and she stretched her head out of his way. “Don’t get too comfortable, baby. I’m not done with you yet.” She sexily purred in response firing him back into action.

  He rolled on the third condom of the night. He adjusted the pillows to lie on his back then positioned her straddling his face. She clutched the bedrail, his eyes danced with hers as he watched her fall victim to another orgasm. He sucked her sweet juices flowing into his mouth, hearing her ecstatic moans. She shook violently with his hands holding her hips over his face. She tried to raise herself but he held her firmly. He almost relinquished to his male urgency but he wanted to watch her fall victim to his control again. She panted through her mouth trying to catch her breath. He felt her muscles tighten with the pressure of his tongue swirling her to pleasurable heights.

  Every nerve in her body was oversensitive from the barrage of wonderful climaxes. She was caught in the raging storm of his desires with only fleeting moments in the glow of satisfaction before he swept her into another torrent of need. His slightest touch sent quakes of pleasure surging through her. His mouth covered her sweet spot consuming her with delightful tremors. In a haze of euphoric pleasures, she was dizzily exhausted.

  “Oh Garret, you’re going to make me pass out.” She whispered moaning louder. He slipped his finger in her back entrance. She gasped “Garret…” feeling the invasion into somewhere that shouldn’t be invaded. The immediate shock was forgotten as she exploded harder than ever before. He pushed deeper with his finger extending her orgasm.

 

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