by Shaw, O. C
I tell him in turn all about my life pre- and post-Greg, the boys, work. It all sounds so dull in comparison to him and the things he has done. When we share our likes and dislikes there’s a frightening amount in common. He gives me a smug ‘I told you so’ look. Before long he’s moved the conversation to sex, wanting to know what I like and don’t like.
We’re leaning in close to each other again now as I answer him in a whisper, “I don’t really know. You’re only the second person I’ve ever slept with. I like what you did,” I say shyly.
He looks at me like he could eat me before gently asking, “What about with Greg, what are the things you like to do with him?” I don’t want to think about Greg or our sex life. A flash of me spread open on the kitchen table as he forces into me comes to mind.
“Not much; it’s just pretty straightforward, really. I never really orgasm,” I add, knowing this will be bound to distract him.
“You never orgasm! That’s terrible, Lily,” he says, truly aghast. His voice drops as he adds, “I can see I have a lot of work to do to make up for the last eighteen years.” And he moves even closer to me.
“I am going to show you just how much pleasure you’ve been missing,” he says suggestively, and suddenly my body is already responding to him without him even touching me. He senses the change in me, and his eyes become dark and intense before he says, “I want you right now, Lily, and if I didn’t think it would put you at any personal risk I would be booking us into a hotel for the night this very minute. The things I want to do to you, Lily, and the pleasure I want to show you...”
He trails off as we both lose ourselves in thoughts of what we’re missing. “When can I see you again?” he asks, and the words are heavy with suggestion. The next time I am certain won’t be spent in a pub all afternoon… if there is a next time. I remember suddenly that I planned to end this today. I don’t know if I can. I look at my watch, and we really need to be heading back.
“James…” I begin.
“No, Lily,” he interrupts immediately.
“You have no idea what I was going to say,” I say, indignant now that he didn’t wait to let me finish.
“I know exactly what you were going to say, Lily. You were going to tell me we shouldn’t see each other anymore, but I won’t let you do it. You need me, Lily. And more to the point, I need you. And while I know this is difficult, it is meant to be. We were meant to find each other. I will not let you cut me out of your life, no matter what.” I should feel terrified by his words, this intense, beautiful man telling me he won’t let me leave him, but I can’t. I’m not afraid of him; I’m thrilled, and I know I want him as much as he wants me. He’s still waiting for me to speak.
“Friday,” I whisper. “I’ll call in sick, and we can have the whole day.”
He smiles then, and it’s beautiful how it lights his face up. I feel my own responding. He quickly moves to the bar and pays the bill before reaching a hand out to me, saying: “Come, Lily,” and I do, without hesitation.
In the car I tease him about just how many houses and cars he owns, and he just shrugs, muttering: “It’s just stuff; it means nothing.” I love that he cares so little for ‘things’. He drops me back at the surgery, where I see my car is one of the last in the car park. There is no one around, so he pulls me to him for one last sweet kiss.
“Friday,” he says as he holds my face between his hands, and I nod.
“I’ll text you where to meet me; you can’t leave your car here if you’re dialling in sick,” he adds sensibly. I can only nod again.
He lets me go, and I force myself to climb out the car without looking back and drive home lost all the while in thoughts of Friday, and wondering how it is my life seems to be so very complicated suddenly.
Chapter 23
Greg spends so much of his time painting, building up to the appointment he has made to see Annie on Saturday, that we barely see each other except over meals. He doesn’t even seem to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. It is a blessed relief for me, as it means no sex. As Friday dawns I am in a state of fevered excitement about the day ahead with James. I spend more time than usual getting myself ready once Greg is safely entrenched in his shed for the day. I shave all the bits of me that need shaving and take time doing my hair and makeup. I still don’t have any straighteners, but my hair doesn’t look quite such a frizzy mess as normal. I choose my best black skinny jeans to wear with a pink top, and I’m pleased with the result when I’m finished. I’m feeling nervous, wondering if I should bring anything with me. I’m wearing the underwear that Emma got me, as it’s the only set I can show publicly, but I can’t imagine what else I might need. With all the nervous anticipation my appetite has fled completely. When I stand on the scales I can’t believe how light I am now compared to when I started. I can see the difference clearly now in my body and face. I get into the car without saying goodbye to Greg. We haven’t really spoken at all since the kitchen table incident; he’s just back to being surly and making snide comments about the things I do wrong as far as he’s concerned, I’m getting better at ignoring him, but it just seems to encourage him to be worse.
James has texted me the address of a hotel near Gatwick, and as I pull into the car park it is still fairly quiet. For a horrible moment I think James hasn’t bothered to come, but then I see the Range Rover parked in the far corner and move my car over to where he is. I get out and run to the driver’s door which he opens quickly. He jumps out and pulls me into a fierce hug. “I’m sorry not to pick you up closer to home, but the fewer people who see us together the better for you, I think,” he says, sounding apologetic.
I hug him again, just intoxicated by his presence as he grasps my hand and leads us towards the hotel reception. For the first time I take in my surroundings and realise I am surrounded by luxury. This is a magnificent hotel with beautiful grounds, and as we walk into the reception I am overwhelmed by its opulence. I cower behind James as he marches up to the desk, announcing his name and collecting the key to our room. I feel as if everyone must be looking at us and knowing we are here to conduct an affair. My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I feel the scrutiny of the receptionist upon me, but on reflection maybe she is just wondering what the hell I am doing here with a bloke like James, judging by the way she is devouring him with her eyes. I’m pissed, and the jealous streak rears its head in me again. I possessively stroke James’ arm as he signs for the room. He looks down at my hand, and I know he knows what I’m doing. He smiles at me before leaning down and kissing me so sweetly on the lips.
Take that, bitch, I think, as the receptionist purses her lips and swiftly processes his payment before handing him the key.
As we move towards the lift James whispers in my ear, “I like it that you’re possessive about me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply impishly.
“I think you do,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the lift. I suddenly feel shy as we stand on opposite sides of the lift looking at each other. He’s got that predatory look in his eye again, and I’m feeling nervous as we stand there and devour each other with our eyes. I’m relieved when the lift stops and the doors open. James takes hold of my hand again and leads me to our door. I guess I should have expected it, from what I already know of him, but when we walk into the room I am again speechless. It’s enormous, not a room like I was expecting, more like an apartment.
“James, you didn’t need to do all this,” I mutter, overwhelmed by his overt display of affluence.
“It’s just stuff, Lily; it means nothing. What matters is that you are here with me. I just want you to feel comfortable, and since we’re spending all day in here I wanted it to be somewhere you would be happy to be.”
“I would be happy in a cardboard box with you, James. You really don’t need to spend money on me.”
“I know that, Lily, and it’s one of the things I love about you, but I want to look after you. Yo
u deserve to be spoiled a bit.”
My eyes fill; God, what is it with all this crying? It’s been so long since someone wanted to look after me, I feel pathetic that at the first sign of kindness I have crumbled into a snivelling mess.
“No, baby, don’t cry,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “Let me do this, please.”
I stand there within the protection of his arms, just breathing in the smell of him, and for the first time since I was in the Peaks I relax completely, submitting to him entirely. James must sense it as he gently puts his hand under my chin and lifts my face, bringing his lips down to claim my own. The kiss is so sweet and gentle, a caress that goes beyond just the physical contact, feeling like it touches my very soul. I feel myself respond, encouraging him as his tongue presses gently into my mouth and entwines with my own. I don’t know how long we just stand there kissing. We’re like teenagers again who can’t seem to stop ourselves. I just want to touch him however I am able, but I defer to him entirely and wait for him to take the lead. Eventually he pulls away from me and takes my hand, leading me to the king-size bed that takes pride of place in the largest room. We stand in front of it for a minute as he pulls my jumper off over my head and pushes my jeans down, until I am standing there in just my underwear, before removing his own shirt and jeans. We just look at each other, and I see my own desire reflected in his eyes. I’m already wet for him; he barely has to touch me, and my body is ready for him. I know I am being completely wanton, but at the moment the only thing I care about is the need to feel him touch me, press his skin against me, push himself inside me. He gently lays me back onto the bed whilst all the while he is touching me; on my face, my neck, my breasts, abdomen, thighs. No part of me goes without his attention. I whimper, wanting to spread myself wide and pull him into me, just needing to relieve the ache that has taken hold of me.
“Ssh, baby,” he tells me. “Patience. We have all day, so no need to rush.” I groan as I feel his hand move to the place at the top of my thighs. He can feel the wetness there now, and I hear him groan in response, feel the jerk in his already solid erection that is pressing hard into my side. “God, you feel amazing. So wet. I want you so much,” he whispers. His fingers trail lightly over my clitoris, playing there until my body begins to thrum with sensation, and I am lost to it. When he presses two fingers up inside me, my body spills over into a shattering orgasm that has me calling his name. As I try to recover my senses, he is already kissing me again, on my lips, my breasts, whispering that I’m beautiful – and I feel it with him. I want him again already. The release was only momentary, and already my body needs him again, this time wanting him deep inside me. He senses the shift in my emotions, and his response is swift. I can feel the urgency in him now to claim me. He rolls me over onto my front, lifting my hips so my butt is in the air while my elbows are pressed into the mattress, my face on the pillow. I feel him nudging my entrance, slipping and sliding as our juices combine. He enters me an inch and then withdraws, and I can’t help but groan at the loss of him until he presses into me again. I try to push against him, wanting him deeper, but he resists, enjoying the control he has over me. It is the sweetest agony I have ever felt. He begins to press deeper, each time pulling back just when I think he is finally going to push home and claim me. I can hear small mewling sounds, and I realise it is me keening the loss of him each time he pulls away, I want him so badly now I actually sob as I try to draw a breath.
“Ssh, baby, I’m here,” he soothes, and the sound of him whispering in my ear calms me as I feel him press into me once more, as I feel the weight of him when he leans over my back. This time he doesn’t withdraw; he pushes into me fully, and it feels sublime. My body tightens at his presence; my nipples become hard, and I arch my back to allow him to press deeper into me. “Oh God,” I hear him moan. He kneels behind me, his hands on my hips as he holds me in place and begins to thrust, slowly at first but gradually increasing his speed until we are slamming hard against each other. I want it so much, and all I can think is that I want all of him, my body is his to do with as he pleases, I would deny him nothing. The pressure is building again, deeper this time with the pressure of him pushing inside me. I can feel the same urgency in him as we hurtle together towards our climax. And then I’m falling over the edge into blissful release as I distantly hear him call my name and feel the warm pulse of him spilling inside me. We collapse together, his body over my back, still joined. I feel boneless, unable to move even had I wanted to, even if he weren’t surrounding me within his protective embrace as we lie there, breathless.
Eventually, after an unknown amount of time, I feel James start to kiss the back of my neck, and we pull apart as he turns me to face him. The gentle look in his eyes is so tender as he gently traces the outline of my body with his fingers that my heart flip-flops inside my chest. Oh my God, I worry, I am lost to this man. I know it is already too late, that I will do anything, risk anything, to keep this man in my life. His mouth is now trailing behind the path of his fingers, teasing and tantalising as my body once more responds to him.
He moves down the bed, pushing his face into the top of my thighs and breathing deeply. “I love the scent of me on you,” he murmurs, “the combination is intoxicating. I want to possess you completely, Lily,” he says, and his words are so erotic they have my thighs parting again to give him access. The gasp I hear in response is not a gasp of erotic pleasure but a sound of shock. I push myself up onto my elbows to discover the source of his surprise, only to find him staring at the bruises on my inner thighs, now purple and yellow.
“Did he do this?” he literally growls at me, sounding furious. I grab the bedclothes and pull them over my body, feeling ashamed. “I asked if he did this,” he says again, his voice quietly menacing this time but no less angry.
“Just leave it,” I try to say, not wanting to talk about it.
“No Lily, I need to know what he did to you.”
“Why? Why do you need to know?” My voice sounds small; I just want the conflict and thoughts of Greg to go away. I want to return to my erotic bubble of a few minutes ago.
“Does he hurt you like this often, Lily?” he asks, his voice softer now.
“No,” I try to reassure him, “he was just angry after the pub.” I see his hand clench and his eyes close as he seeks to control himself.
“Did he force you?”
“No, not really, he was just angry, like I said.” I can’t bring myself to say any more. I am so ashamed to be talking about this with him. I feel disloyal to the pair of them now, and I look at his face expecting to see disgust.
His face looks frozen for a moment, “Did you enjoy it?” he asks at last.
“No” I whisper, and I can’t miss the look of relief that’s written all over his face.
“I know he’s your husband, Lily, but I swear to God if he hurts you like this again, or forces you to do anything you don’t want to do, I will kill him.” It all sounds so melodramatic a part of me wants to burst out laughing, but one look at his face and the clench of his jaw and fist tells me he’s serious, and the laughter fades before it has a chance to emerge.
He pulls me into his lap and cradles me, gently stroking my hair before he continues: “I am struggling to share you, Lily. I hate that he has so much of you when I want all of you, that he even gets to touch you, let alone sleep with you. The idea he hurts you just rubs salt in the wound. The fucker doesn’t have any idea just how lucky he is,” he says, angry again now.
I want to distract him, but I don’t know how. All I can think to do is kiss him. He’s startled at first, but then he’s kissing me back at first aggressively, like he’s trying to make a point. But then he calms himself, and it becomes sweet and sincere. His hands move to touch me again, stroking gently, and my body responds by pushing against his touches, I’m desperate to show him how much I want his caress. When he enters me this time, with me wrapped around him, he doesn’t take his eyes from mine. We connect like that, ge
ntly loving each other until we reach our release, with him coming a few strokes after me. I can’t say the words yet, but I fear my feelings are written all over my face as we lie there with our limbs wrapped around each other, perfectly sated. I have no idea what the future will hold for us. We only have the present, but what I do know is I love him already, with a depth that is frankly terrifying.
Chapter 24
The rest of the day passes in a haze of love-making. We order food in the room and feed it to each other, sitting in bathrobes on the bed. He runs me a bath and insists on washing me himself all over my body, finally caressing me intimately until I orgasm again. I can’t believe it can be like this. My body feels loved and beautiful. I want to return some of what he has given me, so when it is his turn to bathe I can’t resist washing him too. I relish the chance to touch his beautiful body all over as he lies back and closes his eyes, lost in the sensation. As I reach to touch and caress his cock, he opens one blue eye and raises an eyebrow.
“Why, Mrs Lambert, I do believe I’ve created a monster,” he says with a small smile playing on his lips. I only smile as I lean over him to take him in my mouth. I allow my tongue to play with his tip and run along the underside until he groans in ecstasy. I move to take him fully in my mouth, unable to take his full length given his generous size, and gently suck while one hand wraps around his base and the other tickles his balls. I know he’s close when I can feel his control slipping as his hips pump more rapidly.
“Fuck, Lily,” he says as he finally tips over the edge and shoots into my throat. It tastes warm and salty as I swallow it down. I watch him, delighting in the way he looks so sated, lying there in the warm bath water, before standing and leaving him to go and get myself dressed.