To Murder Matt

by Viveca Benoir

  “You haven’t been listening to a word I have been saying have you?” She laughed again. Her voice made his soul vibrate like a C string on a cello. It went right through him, and he could not help but resonate with her. His every sexual need heightened and now she was the only person in the world that mattered. Whatever tune she would play, he was going to dance to it like a puppet. Whatever seductive power she held over him, he was now lost to her completely, and she was in control. He hoped she would want to seduce him; to give him the hinted pleasures that her body and mind promised. “Am I boring you?”

  Her Spanish accent made even the simplest of words sound erotic and sexy. He could have given her the terms and conditions to an insurance policy, and he would have sat entranced, by every word she read. He was sat like a teenager trying not to climax as she spoke to him.

  “I am sorry. I have a lot on my mind.” He did. Her. Only she was on his mind. She was all he could think about.

  “Ah yes. Business. You men are all the same. I should be going, my friends will wonder where I have gotten to. It was very nice to meet you Mr. Montalban Smythe.” She stood up slowly, and he committed the memory of her body to his mind.

  “Please call me Dean, Contessa.”

  “Then you should call me Julia.” She held out her hand to say goodbye and Dean kissed it. Her musky perfume was partially her own perfume, mixed with the delicate fragrance of orchids. He inhaled her deeply. “Let us hope that I do not wet your trousers again, when we next meet.” She said with a smirk. He laughed uncomfortably, and then she was gone. Their meeting had been so short and intense, and now it was suddenly over. He was left alone at the bar, and wondering why he hadn’t taken her number. He had done nothing. He sat there in a daze, like road kill at the side of a busy motorway, struck and unable to move.

  That night he dreamt of her, she was naked on her knees taking him in her perfect mouth. Her tongue was wet, and warm, and he slipped his dick down her throat, his fingers entwining in her shiny thick flowing hair, holding her mouth onto him. Her eyes flashing seductively as she took him all. The dream felt so real, that he awoke climaxing, and he then lay there in the darkness, his hands behind his head, as he thought about how he wanted to meet her again. His dick hardened again at the thought.

  The next morning, Dean stood on the quay watching the yachts as they sailed by. He loved this side of the business and he always did this prior to boarding his own yacht. Not only did it give him insight into current yachting trends, but he also loved to watch them cutting through the waves, the sun glinting on the water. It reminded him of being a boy, and being allowed to accompany his father when they sailed together. Sailing had, over the years, become his passion, his grand amour.

  “Ola!” Dean turned to the voice. He would know those dulcet tones anywhere. Julia was walking towards him looking absolutely mouth wateringly sexy.

  “Why, hello.” He tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.

  “What a wonderful surprise to find you here and look I have no drinks in my hand. You are quite safe!” She held her hands up and laughed.

  “Yes, I guess I am.”

  “I am here to meet some friends, but am running a little late.” She looked over to an empty berth. “Oh dear, they have left already.” Her face dropped. “What a pity.” She turned to walk away.

  “No wait! You can come with me. I am sorry that it is not as grand as the yacht that was there, but mine is beautiful all the same.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

  “Why not? You were expecting to go sailing. It’s just with me instead.”

  “Oh are you sure? I don’t want to impose...”

  “Not at all. Come.” He took her elbow and led her to his yacht. As they boarded, he signalled to a deck hand to cast off.

  “Tell the captain I am on board and advise the chef there will be one extra for lunch.”

  “Why this is beautiful,” she said as he led her inside the luxurious lounge. “I am impressed.” She looked at the soft beige carpeting and the spacious corner sofa with its cream, beige and gold cushions. She was surrounded by opulence and wealth, and she loved it. A strong wooden table separated the matching armchairs, and the far wall had a bronze tinted floor to ceiling mirror, with large leafy plants placed in front of it. Windows along the length of the cabin allowed light to flood the cabin, to brighten the already beautiful room. A large bookcase was filled with leather bound classics, and nautical themed ornaments.

  “I’m glad you like it. Would you like a tour?”

  “Oh I couldn’t.” He smiled as she looked through a semi open door, which led to the master suite.

  “Come with me. It won’t take a moment.” He led her through the boat and pointed out all the different rooms, saving his own stateroom for last. He opened the door proudly, knowing that his stateroom was the most impressive cabin on board.

  “Oh this room is lovely and to think the yacht looks so tiny from outside.”

  “My yacht is more than a hundred feet long, Madame.” He said with some irritation.

  “Exactly!” He laughed at her unexpected remark. He found her both infuriating and alluring at the same time. He had only met her the day before, and now here she was, unimpressed by the size of his yacht. He felt excited by the anticipation of getting her into bed. Maybe he would impress her then.

  Julia kicked off her shoes and sat on the edge of his circular bed. A bed large enough for five or six people to enjoy, should he so choose. She lay back and held out her hand to him.

  “Come and show me something that might impress me...” Dean needed no second chance. He closed the door to the cabin and moved towards her, and for the first time in all his life, all thoughts of Ellen, and yachts, completely left his mind.

  He awoke to her stroking his chest hair. She was resting her head on his shoulder and her leg was bent up and resting across his thighs. They fit so well together. He held her tighter for a moment, before looking down and kissing her on the forehead. What they had just experienced was nothing short of a sexual marathon. She had matched his every move, and then taken him to the next level. If there were an Olympic category for sex, then he would have expected they would win a gold medal for their efforts. She gave as good as she got and she took every climax on offer. He felt like a sex god with her. His every touch, had brought rapturous moans of delight, and ecstasy, and the more she enjoyed him, the better he performed. With her, his stamina increased. He was sure his dick had grown bigger, and harder than ever, with her expert touch. He wanted more, much more of her.

  Now she changed position and sat astride him lowering herself on to him. She watched his face with great pleasure, and she loved the way he groaned as she rode him. She so enjoyed a man who was vociferous in lovemaking. A man that showed his pleasure. Shouted his climaxes. Who completely let himself go in love making. She was really enjoying her job at the moment. It was a pity he didn’t know who she really was. He reached forward and pushed her impressive breasts together, and nibbled between her nipples, taking great delight in their responsiveness to his touch. She rode him harder, feeling his dick inside her as he started juddering and twitching, in a sudden climax. She clenched him tightly and used her vaginal muscles to milk his joy. He thought he was as close to heaven as he could get, without actually having to die.

  “Oh God,” he groaned loudly as he came. She smiled, pleased that she had gotten him to come against his will. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold back.”

  “No matter, I shall come next time.” She leant forward and kissed him passionately on the lips, something that she wouldn’t normally do with a client. Holding him still inside her she whispered, “We have plenty of time to come together.” He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him, and she was temporarily surprised by his tenderness, and stayed where she was. Normally, at this time, she would be getting off him and dressing, preparing to leave. Regardless of the promises the men made to her to see her again, they never did. The only m
emory she would have of them would be the money in the bank, or the jewels at her neck.

  Matt was different. She had known him since school. He had taken pity on her then. At first he had been like all the other boys who wanted to have sex with her for a couple of Francs. She had been his first lover, and she remembered his first fumblings with her. They were together in a field, by a secluded lay by. He had climaxed prematurely and she had said it didn’t matter. He had expected her to go back to school, and make a fool of him, but she hadn’t. She had kept quiet, and because of that, when Matt had become richer, he took her with him. He had gotten her the title of Contessa by marrying her to a count, then, when he suddenly died, leaving her a large fortune, he had helped her through her mourning period with copious amounts of kinky sex. He had also supplied her with a long list of wealthy clients over the years. Clients, who had dressed her in furs, dressed her in diamonds, and had caused her bank balance to swell impressively. Now, she had so much of everything, she had become bored by it all. In some ways, Matt had been like the brother she never had and in others, he was the closest she could get to having a husband. They still occasionally had sex over the years. She knew she wanted more from him, and she believed he was the only man she had ever loved, but now, now she had met Dean. Perhaps Matt was introducing her so she could fall in love again. Dean saw her thinking.

  “A penny for your thoughts?”

  “Pardon?”

  “It is a British way of asking what you are thinking.”

  “Oh I was just thinking how we met yesterday and here we are today, in bed together. It is so not like me.” She lied. On some of her jobs, she was in bed having sex in less than five minutes. When she had first started, as one dick left her mouth, another one would be in it, without even a word spoken; just the money placed on the table as they queued up waiting their turn. She had learnt her trade young, and did it well.

  She got off him and lay by his side, her fingers briefly twirling his chest hair. He made a move to get up, and she admired his well-toned and muscular body. He was so handsome and rich. She had no reason to be afraid he was after her for her money, and she wasn’t really after his. She just thought it would be fun to do this again, after so many years. He saw her thinking again.

  “A penny...?”

  “Oh no,” she said laughing. “These thoughts I keep to myself...” They dressed and went to spend the day together.

  If only Dean knew what he had gotten himself into and what was currently happening to his life. He would not have been so carefree and happy.

  The smiles he was enjoying, were costing him dearly, and Matt, he was laughing all the way to the bank.

  Chapter Nineteen - Veronique

  Nico was coming to dinner and she was determined that everything would be perfect. Over the past few months he had been more and more involved with her life and that of Michael’s. He had never asked anything of her, was always there when she needed him and had never forced himself upon her. He had been the perfect gentleman and as the time had passed Veronique found herself slowly falling in love with him again. Day by day a little bit more. Without her even realising it she had come to rely on him, on his laughter, on the joy he brought to their lives. Michael would squeal with joy when Nico entered the house every day and when Nico swept him up into his arms and beamed a smile that could light up a thousand hearts, she smiled too.

  Tonight, Veronique planned to tell Nico her feelings and invite him into her life fully. She had planned a simple traditional Greek dinner for him of roasted chicken in garlic with a Greek salad. She hoped he would appreciate her gesture. She was as nervous as a bride cooking for her husband for the first time.

  Checking that Michael was asleep she went back into her own room to dress. On the bed lay a crimson silk dress, one of the most expensive dresses she owned and something she hadn’t worn since she was working on the ships. Everything she had from those days was way too over dressed for the village where she worked and lived now. She coiled her hair up, pinned it in place and then went back downstairs to wait for Nico to arrive. She felt electric with excitement.

  Looking around the room, everything was ready. The table had been set, candles lit, low lights and soft background music. If Nico didn’t understand her intentions tonight he would never understand a woman. Suddenly noticing she wasn’t wearing any jewellery she rushed upstairs and looked in her jewellery box. There were only a few pieces she had brought with her and she chose the one given to her by her grandmother, a pair of delicate one-carat diamonds ear rings and a matching three-carat diamond pendant. This necklace represented the strong women of her family and although she never knew her grandmother this necklace set was the only thing that connected her to her.

  The doorbell rang and Veronique grabbed her high heels and ran down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs to put her shoes on, to straighten her hair slightly and to calm her breathing. Her heart was going wild and beating so strongly. She opened the door and smiled at Nico, not noticing a menacing black car parked across the road by the letterbox.

  Nico handed her a bunch of flowers.

  “For you!” He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek as she closed the door behind him, laughing because she was so happy to see him.

  “I didn’t know if you wanted red or white,” he said, holding up a bottle of wine in his hand. “I’ve brought white but I can go get a bottle of red if you prefer.”

  “No. It’s perfect.” There was a slight nervousness in the air. They both felt something was different about this evening and they were both excited to see how things would turn out.

  Nico followed her into the living room and sat down on the sofa. She sat opposite him.

  “Oh I almost forgot! Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  “What?”

  “Anything.”

  “I can’t remember what you like to drink on board.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Wine will do.”

  “White or red?”

  “Either.”

  “Oh Nico, help me!” Her voice exasperated, but also happy.

  “White, white.” He said firmly waving his hand to show it didn’t really matter to him.

  He didn’t care what she gave him. He wanted to drink her. He wanted to drink in her perfume, her eyes, and her lips and to drink her completely into himself so that she became a part of himself. He wanted to travel her body like a ship on the seas. Her skin the sands of desire, and he, the sea of love.

  She returned with two glasses of chilled white wine, and she trembled slightly when she handed him the glass. He remembered how he had felt handing her the glass, and how now their roles were reversed, and both were willing.

  She sat by him and looked at him sincerely.

  “Nico, before we eat, there are some things I need to say to you.” Her words were quiet and she spoke softly. She smiled, her heart was pounding so much, and she wished she could calm down. “I have...” the tears started to well in her eyes. He leant forward and wiped the tears already falling. He looked so deeply into her eyes that she felt she was at risk of drowning in him. They were so full of love, tenderness and compassion that she couldn’t continue. Her heart was bursting with love for him too and it was only now allowing herself to feel; to finally reveal her thoughts to him that she seemed to truly understand the depth of it all. Without being able to say another word, she kissed him, wanting her lips to convey everything in her heart that words couldn’t.

  The moment she closed her eyes and felt the kiss, her lips on his and the connection they had, time stopped. Everything stopped. There was a moment where she forgot everything; her name, her life, her past and only this moment was real.

  He wanted to kiss her all over, to hold her, to feel her heart beating against his, to feel her body against his, the cool of her against the heat that was him. The fire and the ice.

  “Agapi mou, s'agapo parapoli, ma cuss?” He whispered into her mouth as he kiss
ed her. He told her he loved in Greek and without thinking she responded.

  “Nai.” Yes. She put her glass down, not by choice, but because he had a delicious look in his eyes, one that told her that if she didn’t, she would soon forget she was even holding a glass.

  He took her fully into his arms and they kissed until time stopped fully for both of them, so lost were they in each other. Years of anger and frustration melted away, as they melted into one another, finally reunited, finally belonging to each other and finally joined as only two soul mates could be. One kiss leading to the next and one caress leading to another.

  He unveiled her, as only a goddess could be revealed. Layer by layer, unwrapping her from her clothes like a present to be savoured. Once she was naked, he kissed her from her lips and neck right the way down to her toes. She was lying on the sofa like a woman in a work of art, by one of the masters and he was the master. Working his way back up she saw a glint in his eye and smiled, knowing that she loved that look. It was a look that said she was in for the loving of her life. Words were not necessary for them now. Their bodies had their own language and each knew exactly what the other wanted. She wanted him so much, so badly that it hurt. Her heart, body, mind and soul were yearning for him.

  “Mmmm.” The sound escaped her as he buried his head between her thighs, his tongue finding her innermost secret joy.