by Lisa Torquay
In panther-like movements he left the door frame and walked slowly towards her. God, she was beautiful! Those enormous stare wide on him, drawing him to her, despite his conscious will. Those jewels were rather restless and he sensed she was still discontent with him. He forced himself to stop.
“Good night then.” Making an inhuman effort, she detached her eyes from him and turned to the stairs without giving him time to respond.
In her room, she took a quick shower, put on a short white night-gown and lay down. Despite the fact she was tired, sleep didn’t come. She had gotten too used to Mark’s strong arms tightly around her during the night. His face buried in her cinnamon silky curls, his powerful hands hovering over her. She was feeling needy, cold. And empty. She pulled her duvet upper and bent her legs closer. Hours went by. A soft moonlight shed a gentle silver light on her bed.
She couldn’t want him that much. She couldn’t be that attached to a man with whom she had to fight a battle just to meet a couple of colleagues in a pub. A man who probably still thought of her as a charge. Someone with whom she had a lengthy agreement which had merely begun. Someone... She heard the sound of her door-knob being turned. Her heart leapt. There was no one at home but him.
The door opened and the moonlight showed a tall powerful man only in boxer shorts. Magnificent. A god come directly from the Olympus. Tides of hot waves assaulted her body.
“Amy.” His low deep voice a caress.
“Hmmm?” She tried to sound just out of sleep.
“I can’t sleep. I need you!” She felt his eyes on her.
She turned on her back and looked at him. Her cinnamon curls spread on the pillow. She didn’t possess a will strong enough to deny him; even if she wanted. Slowly she removed her duvet and the white short silk gown shone in the moonlight.
His breathe quickened in the still room. He neared her brass-boarded bed and looked down at her full breasts, narrow waist and round hips delineated by her gown. In one economic movement, he got rid from his boxer-shorts and his hardness popped out proudly.
The view of him ignited her. She stretched in expectation and saw him lower himself on her pink bed-sheets. In a second his strong arms wrapped her and she felt all his body on hers, separated from hers solely by the thin delicate silk.
She nested him between her flexed thighs and slipped one of her feet triumphantly over his taut-muscled leg enjoying the feel of its hairs and smooth skin. She arched even more to feel the most of him. Arms around his neck, she lost herself in his warmth.
“Amy,” he groaned and poured kisses in the extension of her neck. “You are under my skin.” He nibbled her ear-lobe. “I cannot stay away from you.”
He sided one of the almost non-existent shoulder strap of her pure white silk and bit lightly her there as his hand strolled over her body in frenzy. His mouth claimed hers thirsty, plunging in its depths unchastely.
She corresponded to his kiss in wanton abandon as sensations reaped her womb and melted in the centre of her. His mouth slid down her throat and her head fell back, her lashes heavy and moist lips apart in a long sigh. It felt like years since he had touched her. She had a feverish need of it.
His fingers lowered her delicate gown until it uncovered her full breasts and pebbled nipples. He touched them in every possible way causing her to undulate under him in agonizing pleasure. But then his fingers found her core and dived into it in maddening circles, making her hips move against his fingers in urgency.
She moved her body searching for him in a clear sign of her readiness. He granted her wish, filling her up, driving deep, bringing them both the longed for gratification. Mark brought her an excruciating feeling of fulfilment that made her exhausted and content simultaneously. And the feeling renewed itself each time he touched her. It was such a mystery as to how he did it.
Now they languished in each other’s arms. Mark was still over her, inside her, embracing her, dropping little butterfly kisses on her smooth creamy skin in an aftermath filled with pure worshiping.
“I didn’t want to be without you tonight.” His deep grave tone caressed the skin of her neck. He referred to the happy-hour episode.
He wasn’t sure he could be without her ever again, night or day. It was terrifying to realize the power she had over him.
“I understand.” She murmured, her hand caressing the muscles on his arms, feather-like.
“That was a difficult task you gave me.” He said as he lay on his back and brought her with him, holding her close.
“You’re too possessive, in my opinion.” Her hands passed over his strong shoulder and chest. “I am not comfortable with that.”
Possessive? Did she say possessive? He was never possessive with anyone in his entire life! Damn never! His mistresses came and went as they wished. There was no...Goodness Gracious! She was the only one who made him feel...who made him...what? To the devil with what he felt. He needed, no, he craved her near him, around him. Continuously. And he’d make sure it happened likewise. Until this...this craving had run its course.
“Ms Independent, are you?” He turned to jest to cover his appalling thoughts.
Maybe he should have gotten married, had children, who knows. He wouldn’t be under her spell by now. But he had been under her spell for a long time. Too long. Too much. He wasn’t willing to let her go so easily, so soon. He held her tighter, closer, as if afraid she’d go at that precise moment.
She turned to the other side. “Nasty combination.” Sighing, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
He spooned her with his strong arms, dived his face in her fragrant hair and slept in a heavenly peace only she could instil in him.
Chapter IX
Amy opened her eyes startled. The clock must be wrong. Or she was shamefully late. Where was she by the way? Mark’s bed. The scent of him everywhere. The arms of his around her. She made to get up.
“No.” He murmured in his half-sleep.
“I am late for work.” She tried to disentangle herself from the wrinkled sheets. Monday mornings were never so hard!
“Stay.” He tightened his hold around her.
“I can’t! I am the employee, not the boss, if you haven’t noticed.” She managed to sit up. The bed-sheet fell uncovering her nakedness.
“Your boss won’t mind. Much on the contrary, I’d say.” He turned on his back. His feline attention foggy with sleep and something else.
“We’re funny this morning, are we?” Her focus on him and her breath stopped. His eyes darkened. He uncovered himself and showed her why. She swore inwardly. She wasn’t made of stone, damn him. Hadn’t he had enough? Such a...busy weekend. She closed her eyes to block the magnificent view of him, stood up and strode hurriedly to her room.
“Amy!” He called in a husky voice. “Come back here, there’s an unfinished business around!”
She didn’t bother to answer. She reached her room and went straight in the shower. Ready in record time, she left without breakfast.
The weekend had been splendid. Saturday, Mark kept her in bed until late morning. Mid-afternoon they relaxed in the sauna. Well, relax is a very pale word for what they did. Again. In the evening Mark invited her out and they were dining at one of London’s most luxurious restaurants. At night, Mark took her to his king-size bed and flew her to heaven anew. Sunday passed lazily as they stayed cosy at home.
She met Juan as she rushed along the hallway to her office. “Good morning.” Amy was thankfully on the dot.
“Good morning, Amy.” He looked at her but he didn’t smile this time. “I am sorry. I couldn’t make it on Friday.” He dipped his hands in his pockets.
“Never mind.” She switched her bag from one hand to the other. “Was there any problem?”
He shrugged. “Not really. Mark requested an urgent task, that’s all.” He stared at her attentively to see if what actually happened would hit her.
She returned his stare blankly taking good care not to change her expression. “What a pity
. We had a good time.” Juan was very efficient in sending his message about the episode, she observed.
“Fine. I won’t miss it next time.” He waved to her and walked away.
Obviously, she deduced what had happened. Mark hindered Juan from participating in their outing. The possessive freak! A surge of anger bloated her mind. She didn’t enjoy feeling like a piece of chess on a board. But that was Mark, wasn’t it? The businessman going about strategies and targets. Except she was neither. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was hurt. Hurt by his jealousy and by this trick of his.
The question was: what would she do about it? Confront Mark? It was, she knew, what Juan expected. But Juan didn’t count in that equation. He was just a co-worker and a very impersonally-related one at that. She was late and she had loads to do. She put the whole thing out of her mind and concentrated on the job at hand. Personal matters should be dealt with at the right time and, most importantly, at the right place.
When Mark arrived home he found Amy sitting straight-spine on the sofa still in her working clothes. He took out his tie and coat and threw them on an armchair.
She stood up; arms folded and looked him in the eyes. Her enormous stare were flashing something hot and temperamental. “I believe you were very happy on Friday.”
Happy wasn’t exactly the word for what he felt when he remembered Friday night. The way they spent the night was utterly...ardent, to say the least. “You could say, yes.” A side-smile on his thin sensuous lips and a spark in his feline stare. He stood tall, legs open, hands on his waist, manly to distraction.
“You played Juan out of the happy-hour and got me home as a good girl.” She tried not to pay attention to his magnetic attraction.
Mark saw anger in her eyes and realized this wasn’t going to be easy. “An urgent task, so to say.”
“Yes, I heard as much.” She shifted her weight to one leg and stared at him stone-serious.
Her anger made her even more beautiful. His focus strolled over her light yellow chemise and her tailored trousers. That unfinished business from early morning nagged at him the whole day and he wanted her. Now. “The man fancies you!”
“What do I have to do with that?” Her eyes widened in fury.
Good question, he thought to himself. Obviously, she wasn’t responsible for other people’s actions. “The boy’s a typical Latin lover!”
“Oh, yes! Reason enough to treat people as pieces on a chess-board.” She bit her lips vexed.
He made to step forward. She raised her hand in a stop signal and backed from him. “Don’t come near me!”
His face took on a sarcastic expression. “What? Are you going on a sex strike by any chance?”
She frowned and glared him as if he was from another world. “Sex strike? You must have gone crazy!” Her arms on her waist now.
He walked to her faster than she could back away and stuck very near her. Their stares clashed in sparkles of anger and desire. His hands palmed fully her buttocks and pulled her to him, showing her that desire got the best of him. “If you’re going to push me away, I’m not playing clean.” His voice was husky and low.
Her eyes dilated as fire melted her inside. She put her hands on his powerful biceps to stand still as her body was going lax. “I do think you owe me an apology.” It took a lot of effort for her to speak in a steel voice. His hands pulled her buttocks closer and she registered his more-than-hard member. It ignited flames in her womb. Her lips parted in an undercurrent message.
He looked at her and all he wanted was to take her to his bed and bury himself in her. His eyes darkened at the thought. “I cannot apologize for defending what’s mine!” He said in a ragged breath.
Her body was betraying her immorally and would give in to him in a matter of seconds. “A pity, because I’m not your pawn!” Using all her will power she disentangled herself from him and stomped to the stairs taking refuge in her bedroom.
They were busy days for Amy as the HR department was going through the process of hiring the R&D staff. Group dynamics, interviews, reports and meetings were happening in a whirlwind rhythm. But the nights were a tragic story. Her body implored for Mark in every possible way: memories, dreams, fantasies. It was cracking her sanity. So she immersed herself even more in work.
Mark watched her from the meeting room. His mood was the nastiest anyone had ever witnessed. Even looking at her was painful. His body ached for the feel of her. The fact that she slept a few paces from his room was a night-long torment. And he didn’t know how much more he could endure. He didn’t think he owed her an apology. In his point-of-view he was just delimiting his territory. He couldn’t understand why she was so angry at him.
At that moment she entered the meeting room. They were discussing with Juan about the candidates they’d hire. The atmosphere was charged with electricity. Amy was struggling hard to keep professional, but Mark’s presence made it a challenge. She had only to look at his predator’s attention to feel all of her melting into forbidden sensations.
Juan glared at each alternately. He sensed something was out of scope, but couldn’t identify what exactly. Both were behaving impeccably. There was a certain tension in the air though.
The meeting elapsed as normally as possible with Mark speaking in dry monosyllables. He seemed like a jailed panther: ready to attack but prevented of doing so by invisible bars. He moved uncomfortably on his chair and only eyed Amy askew for fear of being too tempted by the sight of her.
As the meeting finished and Juan left, Mark closed the door and locked it. Amy was gathering her things. She turned abruptly to look at him at the sound of the key. Being in this small room with him and with the door locked was more than she could bear.
“Until when are you carrying on this nonsense?” He asked with a barely concealed fury. He was standing by the door, legs apart, strong arms folded on his ample chest.
“Until you realise I am not a manoeuvrable asset.” Her stance reproached him. She leaned on the table, her hands on either side of her on the table, one pantyhose-ed leg stretched and the other flexed. Cinnamon silky ringlets caught up in a chignon. Her chemise gave away her full breasts and her knee-length skirt wrapped her perfect hips maddeningly.
His daring look strolled insolently over her as he tried to hide his hunger for her. “You made it plainly obvious I believe.” If he didn’t stop looking at the damn woman something else would become pretty obvious as well.
“So?” She crossed her arms and eyed him inquiringly, waiting for him to say the right thing.
But he didn’t. He side-grinned sarcastically at her, and put his hands on his waist, shoving the greenish-grey suit coat back. “Is this your way of, say, spice us up?” He angled his head as his stare bored into her. “Because if you are, you’re doing a splendid job.”
That look of his could induce her to do anything, everything. She grabbed the table rim with more force to stop her body from reacting on its own. “Spice us up?” Since when did they need such a thing? It’d be like throwing fuel to their torrid fire. A fire that would burn down the entire world, for God’s sake! “You don’t get it, do you?” Her womb was churning with sensation. She turned her back to him to pick her papers up and leave. “If you will open the door, please.”
He strode quickly to her and held her around her waist tightly from behind. His hot lips grazed the nape of her neck while one of his hands unbuttoned two buttons of her chemise and cupped her breast.
Damn the wicked man! Her breath got stuck in her throat, all the melting sensations welling in her centre. Her lashes fell, overwhelmed. When his hand found her breast under her delicate bra, it was heavily pebbled. He squeezed it between his fingers mercilessly reaping her body with feverish waves. She was still bending over the table, hands leaning on its surface. He had bent on her, the warmth of his strong body spreading over her.
Blast the stubborn woman! Mark swore inwardly. She had him at her mercy. He had nothing else to do than hope to find reli
eve in her. She threw him in a hell of frustration. His arm tightened more around her, encasing his hardness in her back. He’d never know how he could bear those college years without having her.
Amy was coming to the point of rendition. Her body was fast becoming jelly-like. His fingers were operating a massive attack on her senses. The manly scent of him reached her nostrils mining her resistance shamefully. Either she broke this spell now or she’d be lost. She jerked from him, taking him by surprise. In seconds she took her papers, holding them to cover her unbuttoned chemise; walked to the door, fumbled the key turned and left the room in a rush for her life. She entered the toilette in a flushed state, locked the door and started breathing deeply.
Mark looked at the door ajar and his mood reached the sourest level. He walked fast to his room, closed the door and sat on his chair fuming. She was driving him crazy. Crazy to the point of losing his mind in a meeting room, mid-afternoon.
Chapter X
In the days that followed Mark had a bit of soul search. He tried to understand Amy’s point of view, to put himself in her shoes. And he didn’t like the way he felt about it. She was right, he conceded. It was not a pleasant thing to be treated like a pawn. Therefore, all he had to do was to swallow his pride and talk to her. That was a difficult thing to perform.
Amy was sitting in her room preparing a report when she heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” She said distractedly, eyes on the laptop screen.
As the door clicked closed she raised her head. It was Mark in a perfectly tailored black suit, white shirt and dark-green tie. The power he had over her senses was too overwhelming. Her enormous honey pools met his ogle and she only hoped her longing for him didn’t show.
“I’ve come to say I am sorry for what happened that Friday.” His words were very grave and said slowly. His stare directed to the floor. He seemed embarrassed.
It was clear for Amy that this was an extremely difficult thing for that proud complex man. This made her value his action even more. She rested her chin on her hand, elbow on the desk, a grateful half-smile on her full lips. “Thank you so much. This was nice of you.” Her enormous stare had a suave glint on them.