Sophie had never realized the effects that different body parts played on each other but what he was doing to her breasts, now going to the right one, and between her legs caused something like surges through her body, reacting off of each other. His free hand lovingly caressed her face, his other thumb sliding across her bottom lip as soft whimpers were escaping them every few seconds and her hips moved in rhythm with his hand.
Oliver played her expertly, maintaining the pulse. What she was experiencing contradicted everything she had endured earlier in life and the feelings so intense as to make the memories fade instead of rising to the surface.
Oliver knew that her orgasm would make it easier to slide into the sweet tightness, especially since she was learning that clenching of those muscles heightened the convulsions that were rising in her. As her breath quickened, her panting made her chest drop slightly resulting in the slight pull of her breast still firmly clamped by his lips.
Her cries were becoming louder. He increased the speed of the motion only slightly and her hips rose, pressing his thumb firmer against her. Her breath stopped for a second. Hips paused. Her moans turned into one exclamation that rose from her chest, to her throat and escaped her lips, his fingertips pressed lightly against them, not to stifle her but to stop one motion at a time starting with his left hand. Her trembling caused her hands to grip his upper arms and until he felt the ease of her grip, he would bring her gently down. After his hand stopped on her lips, he released her breast, laying light kisses around the nipple, and then slowed the motion between her legs but not stopping until the uncontrollable quivering of her body subsided.
His mouth abandoned her breasts tickling her side until his head was between her thighs, his thumbs, glided easily over her labia, his lips sucked her clit. Writhing, it was too intense for her but she couldn’t find her voice to tell him to stop when all she could manage was gasps and moans. Watching his head move, his face buried between her legs, she knew what he was doing was for his enjoyment. It wasn’t work; it was what he wanted having already done the work and producing a result.
The aftershocks from what he had done to her prior still pulsed when his chin moved side to side against the lips between her thighs. Her hand clutched the back of his head and one powerful quiver pushed her over again, however less intense, carried on the wave of the previous orgasm.
One move, he was looking down into her beautiful face and inside her without hesitation so he could feel the last of her orgasm. She had yielded so easily to him; he hoped he could give her another. Her legs wrapped around him pulling him deeper into her. Somewhat put off by the fact that his lips were still wet from what he had done to her, she turned away but when his hands firmly held her head, she gave in, tasting his experience with her. “I can still taste me on your lips,” she whispered. He covered her in kisses, falling into a cadence, with their bodies, their breath, their kisses.
He pulled out of her, lying on the bed, encouraging her up to sit on top of him. Watching as she enveloped the tip of him inside her and squeezed, moving up and down slightly, he almost cried out from that alone. He sat up, holding her face, “Why are you teasing me so?”
“What do you want me to do?” He answered her with his hands on her hips; he slowly pushed her down until she resisted going any further, her arms around his neck, finding her own rhythm. He pushed up to meet her but when she winced, it was not lost on him, and her hand pushed on his stomach, he knew she wasn’t ready for the full length of him in this position.
Controlling his urge to thrust, he pressed into the bed and let her take control, but after a few minutes of her moving her hips up and down and in small circles, he couldn’t fight the yearning any longer. Arching her back, giving access to her breasts again, she reached back and put her hands on his shins using them to brace and push forward and back until naturally she took all of him with each movement.
His hands constantly tickled her skin, everywhere he touched and without looking she didn’t know where that would be from one moment to the next, heightening her senses. Her movements became shorter and quicker, she was moaning with each movement she enveloped him, keeping him deeper inside her until she could feel a different kind of tremor. Starting, not from outside stimulation as before but inside, exploding outward instead of tightening and drawing in. Exclaiming loudly his name, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist, holding him close to her.
Gently her teeth sunk into his shoulder, sending him over the edge. Swiftly pressing her back on the bed, Oliver held his place inside her, not too shallow and not too deep, taking over where she left off until he too quivered inside her sweet wetness, adding his own to hers.
Arms around each other, they stayed that way until a quiet calmness settled between them, he laid her gently on her back and pulled out, causing a little whimper from her but he encircled her in his arms and she settled there, listening to his heartbeat, and snuggling up against his side.
Oliver felt Sophie get heavier and heavier as she relaxed until she softly snored and he smoothly laid her back on a pillow, propped up on one elbow, he watched her sleep. There wasn’t the restless tossing and turning, just the softness of a deep sleep.
The fear of what tomorrow might be intruded on his happy thoughts. What if it was like last time, when she snuck out and didn’t see him for a while only to come back around without so much as mentioning it? He had forgotten that she never actually said that she loved him back but Sophie was better at communicating through expression and gestures and her willingness was the best gesture of all.
Instinctively she came to his flat even in anger, instinctively she was afraid to be loved, instinctively she knew when he said he did love her it was true, and instinctively she allowed him access to her past revealing her soul and fears as well as wishes and hopes. Instinctively her body responded to his touch and his love.
***
The next morning, Oliver shifted a sleeping Sophie off his chest and went to the loo. He was determined to be awake before her in the event that she would try to sneak out again. Thinking breakfast but also thinking, naked Sophie in his bed, he abandoned breakfast altogether for the time being.
But when he got back to the bedroom she was awake, smiling and his fear that she would leave subsided. When he entered, she pulled the sheet up around her.
“Do you remember last night,” he walked naked back to the bed and kissed her temple.
“Yes,” her face turned red.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m more than okay.”
He relaxed and smiled at her, “Then I can make breakfast without you escaping?”
“Yes, feed me please, I’m famished.”
“For food,” he teased.
Sophie rolled her eyes and giggled, “Yes for food.”
“Alright then.”
After breakfast they walked through St. James Park, only stopping long enough to watching the large pelicans on their perch. The flowers had already bloomed and the sun drifted in and out from behind the clouds, the breeze warm. Oliver wanted to hold her hand but even the smallest gesture for her might be more than she could handle but as soon as he abandoned the thought, she slid her hand in his, sipping her tea with the other.
They walked towards the crowds gathering for the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. Locals and tourists alike enjoyed the parade. Oliver had seen it too many times to count but Sophie never had. There was more times when there was a smile on her face than not now since she let Mariella go and Mona had made her jealous and he made love to her again.
They spent the day together going around London, bypassing the crowds of tourists as much as possible and despite the cold water; they dipped their toes in the water of the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain and lingered in several areas of Hyde Park until dusk hovered.
“Are you coming home with me tonight,” Oliver asked, his thumb caressing the back of her hand.
“I have to go to my
flat for a while.”
He was disappointed but knew she would come around to staying with him full time once the need to poison was also out of her system. “Of course. Come over Thursday,” he moved the hair off her shoulder, nuzzling her neck, “and we can drink wine, eat good food, and make love all,” he kissed her cheek, “night,” he kissed her nose, “long,” he kissed her mouth, oblivious to who might be looking, watching, or spying.
He started to pull away but she pulled him back to her, “You’re working until then,” she seemed a little disappointed and he was really hoping this was not the beginning of the end.
“Yes,” he sipped his coffee waiting for the inevitable complaint but what she said instead made him feel elated.
“Can I come over anyway, while you’re out?”
“Of course you can,” he chuckled, “that’s why you have a key you silly girl,” he kissed her the top of her head.
***
Back at her flat, it felt like the wrong place to be when what she wanted was Oliver but she was not prepared to give up this part of her. She painted, she read, she slept, waited to see if an envelope came but it didn’t. The days passed too slowly, she didn’t sleep much only catching catnaps here or there.
On Wednesday, she fondled the key to his flat. She didn’t need a reason to go there but she was hesitant. He was working anyway, what would his flat mean to her if he wasn’t in it? No need to be there, not wanting to be in her flat, she seemed a little lost suddenly. She made a cuppa and watched telly until she passed out on the sofa, waiting for Thursday.
When Thursday came, she used the key to get in. He wasn’t there and she was glad. Stripped, she lay on the plush bedding, remembering what he did for her, how he touched her and her hands traced where his lips had been between her legs and her fingers moved as his tongue did and the sweet sensations made her cry out. It was nice, she decided but not quite the same.
She heard him come in the door and she called to him. Unloading his shopping he found her under the covers but obviously naked on his bed.
He could tell by her movements and relaxed smile what she had done but he asked, “Did you just do what I think you did?” Sitting on the side of the bed, he took her right hand and sucked her fingers, answering his own question, he could taste her. Dinner would have to wait, he would have dessert first.
***
Oliver made breakfast and they sat at the table in his kitchen, talking and laughing, when there was a knock at the door. Confused, Oliver stood up and answered. Sophie heard a familiar voice say, “This is for Sophie, tell her Owen says hi.”
“Here,” Oliver handed her the envelope. “Owen says hi.” There was no name on it just a plain letter envelope. Cautiously she opened it. Oliver wanted to throw it away because she had a worried look again.
When she pulled the paper out, a photo dropped out. The letter was written in script and said: Dear Sophie, it is time we reunite. Please meet me here, as I know you are familiar with the location, tomorrow at dusk. There is a gift waiting for you. With love, Sydney.
Sophie picked up the photo, Oliver waited patiently, her expression didn’t change but she handed him the letter and stared at the photo. She turned it so he could see. “It’s the house I grew up in.” At first she barely recognized it; it obviously had long since been abandoned.
“I’m going with you this time. I’ll tell them when I go in tonight I won’t be in tomorrow.”
Sophie took a deep breath and slowly let it out, “Agreed but how does she know about this house Oliver? She didn’t live there?”
Sipping his tea he answered, “Seems she has made it her business to know about you while staying incognito.” Sophie could tell he was annoyed but he at least tried to hide it for her sake but he went over and chose the music, slightly fast, slightly loud and angry so she knew.
Chapter 37: The Gift of Reckoning
The house was an abandoned shell of bricks covered in earth’s vegetation and the front reclaimed by tall grass and shrubs. Once a nice neighbourhood with seemingly happy families, it was now forsaken and vacant, a testament to how life really was. Sophie supposed her family wasn’t the only one with its delusions of grandeur and bliss, all for show while behind closed doors the most appalling things were happening.
Oliver stood behind her. She could feel his presence and it was comforting since she wasn’t sure what to feel otherwise. The only noise was the trains in the distance and the wind’s sharp howl as it blew briskly through hollowed walls and dilapidated structures. She stared at the house where her innocence was stolen. It was dark except for light shining brightly through a basement window.
It was a mystery why Sydney would want to meet here, although everything about Sydney was a mystery but of all the places to meet this was the most peculiar since she never lived here. Only Sophie and her mother moved in with her stepfather. How could she know? Why here? Why now?
Cautiously they approached the front of the house and found the door slightly ajar as Sophie opened it and stepped inside the threshold, the light filtering up the stairs from the kitchen below. The smell of damp and earth was in the air with an underlying smell of….flowers, tulips, she thought but she didn’t know that tulips had a distinctive smell.
She stood for a minute letting her eyes adjust to the light coming from downstairs. Taking Oliver’s hand she walked blindly towards the light leading him guardedly not knowing what she will find down below. She remembered her way even in the dark.
Anticipation grew at the thought of meeting a long, lost sister, a twin. Her chest constricted and she could hardly breathe, she was what could only be described as excited. Half a dozen stairs down and she stopped abruptly placing a hand on Oliver’s chest to stop him. Muffled groaning and commotion exploded from the interior of the kitchen. Proceeding on the creaking steps, the sound was getting louder and more desperate. The lights flickered from the multitude of candles that lined the kitchen and counter tops.
With his back facing them, a man bound to a chair in the middle of the kitchen with his hands tied behind his back. In front of him, on the middle island counter sat a gun, teasing him, he could reach it if only he was free. He struggled and pulled on his restraints trying to turn his head to see who was there.
Confusion clouded Sophie’s mind as she was compelled to keep going and Oliver’s arm slipped around her trying to pull her back up the steps. Sophie pulled forward, resisting Oliver and he had no choice but to follow her. At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and looked around for anyone else who might be lurking. She expected to see Sydney but instead, this was the scene she found and yet she felt she was not in danger.
“Let’s get out of here,” Oliver whispered in her ear. But she took his hand from around her waist and walked around to face the man in the chair. Oliver could see her eyes widen in disbelief and familiarity. She went pale and her chest heaved. Her heart sank and she felt lightheaded. It felt like someone had punched her in the stomach and she couldn’t catch her breath. Punched her in the stomach like…
“Who is it, Sophie?”
“Declan,” it came out a gasp.
Oliver looked beyond the man to see Sophie’s reaction. Her mouth hung open as if she was going to say something and her head nodded in disbelief. Oliver rushed forward to stand behind Sophie and looked down at the man.
“You,” his voice muffled from the gag, the word however was understood but he was glaring at Oliver not Sophie. Declan’s dark eyes were wide and then confused, recognition, and surprise all flashed when Oliver appeared behind Sophie. He attempted to leap towards them despite his bondage. Startled, Sophie jumped back and Oliver steadied her, immediately forgetting to question if Declan recognized him when his focus returned on Sophie. Declan’s chest rose and fell with heavy breath and he settled back against the chair knowing the futility of what he had tried.
“Sydney!” Sophie yelled but nothing was heard, no sounds, except the wind outside. The candles flickered more from
the drafts that whistled through the cracks in the window. “I’m going to lower your gag but if you yell or scream I will put it back on. Understand?” Sophie said, her voice trembling.
The man nodded in acknowledgment and with shaking hand she slowly reached forward and pinched the fabric where it puckered to pull it down but the fabric was too tight. It pulled the corners of his mouth back and exposed his teeth. It made him look like an angry dog ready to attack. Frustrated she tried again as he looked hatefully at her, but she couldn’t bear to touch him. Oliver reached over and slid a finger between his cheek and the fabric and pulled it past his chin.
“Untie me!” He growled through clenched teeth.
“Why are you here? Where is Sydney?”
“Who the hell is Sydney? You did this bitch,” he was looking up at her, his dark piercing eyes under thick brows.
Sophie and Oliver looked at each other with a knowing glimpse that said the most logical explanation is that it must have been Sydney. They both looked around for any sign that she was there.
“Where did she go,” Sophie was asking Declan but inspecting the surroundings to keep from looking at him.
“You are mad. You called me here,” Oliver and Sophie stopped and stood in front of him again. “I want my money and I want to get the hell out of here and we’ll forget everything.”
“You’re talking to the wrong person. That wasn’t me that was Sydney,” Sophie stood meekly next to Oliver.
“Who the fuck is Sydney?”
“My sister, my twin sister.”
“You don’t have a twin, you don’t have any siblings.”
Oliver and Sophie looked at each other; it was obvious he knew nothing about her either. Mariella had kept Sydney a well-kept secret.
“What money are you talking about?” Oliver spoke up.
The Poison Morality Page 33