by Dark Angel
"Connor…" I hear her voice then, sweet and seductive, like honey and wine. "Connor…" It’s only a whisper, but one that shakes me to my very core. I toss and turn, dreams of Clarise tormenting me mercilessly. I wake up drenched in sweat, and the clock reads 1:47 am.
It seems that I won’t be getting any sleep tonight.
She’s like a virus, and I’ve been infected. If I’m awake, I think of her; if I’m sleep, I dream of her. How the hell am I supposed to forget about the taste of her lips when my mind is being this rebellious?
No matter what I do, images of her keep assaulting me.
And these images… they make me rock hard.
Stop, I tell myself, but it’s already too late. I’ve slid one hand down my naked chest, and now my fingers are going over the fabric of my boxer briefs, curling themselves around the thick shape straining against it. Grabbing my cock, I imagine Clarise’s small and delicate fingers around my shaft, and my blood feels as if it’s boiling.
I can’t do this, I continue to admonish myself but, at the same time, I push my boxer briefs down my legs. My cock springs free fast, and I grab it again, my grip tight and hard. Laying here, completely naked, I allow that need for Clarise’s body to wash over me. I’d give everything - everything - for her to be with me right now, laying by my side.
I want to feel her lips on mine again. I want to undress her, to peel her dress off and take my time with her underwear. I want all these things, and I want them so bad that I forget all about vows, honor, and duty. Right now, my mind is working on fumes - and they’re toxic fumes.
"Oh, fuck," I groan, slowly moving my hand up and down the length of my shaft. With each stroke, I sink lower and lower into the depths of an ocean of lust, imagining how it’d feel to have Clarise’s naked body pressed against my own. I imagine my hand going down the side of her body, feeling her perfect curves, savoring the warmness of her skin…
I’m an experienced man. I’ve fucked so many women I’ve lost count, and I’ve lived that life for so long that sex became… routine. Even though women still throw themselves at my feet, I don’t even glance at them twice. But with Clarise… Ah, fuck, it’s different with Clarise. There’s something about her that strokes my primal side. Whenever I’m close to her, I feel like a wild animal, restlessly pacing around its cage as it tries to figure out a way to break free.
Stroking myself harder now, I let all kind of dirty thoughts parade behind my shut eyelids. I think of Clarise on her knees, her parted lips reaching for my cock, her tongue brushing against my shaft… I imagine her wet, and I can’t help but wonder about how she’d taste, the wetness between her thighs against my lips…
I don’t even know if I’m awake or dreaming. All I know is that, in my mind’s eye, Clarise is right here with me. I can almost feel the warmth of her body, the beat of her heart. And, Jesus, as I imagine the tightness of her pussy around my cock… I almost lose it.
I want to fuck her. I want to fuck her so bad. I want to do it until we’re both covered in sweat, exhaustion gripping both our souls. I want to do it until both my lungs collapse, until my heart simply gives in.
And, more than just fucking her, I want to make her mine.
That final thought sends me over the edge and, before I can even prepare for it, ropes of cum shoot up from my cock. They fall on my naked chest, crisscrossing over my abs like a web. I remain still for a long moment, my chest rising and falling at a steady pace as I try to catch my breath.
What the hell am I doing? This isn’t right, I think to myself, sprawled on the bed and staring at the ceiling. I have to be strong. Or, at least, stronger than this.
Yes, I might want Clarise… But that doesn’t mean I have to succumb to this hunger inside of me. I can fight it. I will fight it.
No matter what happens, I’ll resist.
Clarise
It took me one month, but I finally mustered enough courage for this.
"Dad," I start to say, shifting my weight from one foot to the other as I wait for him to look up at me.
"Yes?" He simply asks me, not bothering to raise his eyes from whatever document he’s reading. He’s hunched over his walnut desk, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and I’m not sure if he has registered that I’m inside his office right now.
"I’ve been thinking a lot about, uhm, taking a more active role in the company," I force myself to say, even though there’s a tight knot in my throat.
"Is that so?" He continues in that casual tone of his, and I know for a certainty that he isn’t listening to me. That was to be expected - whenever my father’s working, his whole focus is dedicated to the task at hand.
"Dad, listen to me," I push through, taking one step toward his desk and sitting in front of him. At last, he raises his eyes from the folder in front of him and looks up at me, an expression of surprise in his face, almost as if he didn’t expect to see me here.
"What is it, Clarise?" He asks, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table. He leans back against his chair, folds his hands over his chest, and I know I have his full attention.
"I want to take a more active role in the company," I repeat, looking straight into his eyes while Connor’s words replay inside my head in a loop: you can do anything. The expression on his face remains unreadable for a long while, and so I find myself looking for something to justify my request. "I’ve proved myself at Wharton, and I’ve been working hard to learn about all our investments… I have a good grasp of the business, and I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines. I want in."
"You want in…" He whispers, and then his expression lights up as his lips curl into a smile. A good sign. "That’s good, Clarise."
"Yeah…" I mutter, not really knowing how to react. After pissing off my parents with my crazy antics all throughout college, I wasn’t expecting my father to react this well.
"Of course, don’t expect to be assigned an official position right away. You’ll sit in at meetings, learn the ropes, and then we’ll go from there… Keep your eyes peeled, pay attention to what your brother is doing, and soon enough you’ll have a more active role."
"Thank you," I tell him, even though I’m not so sure if I can learn anything from Earl. Even though he’s been working with my father for the past four years, I doubt my brother has anything to teach me. Sure, he was a star student at Wharton, and he also proved to be a brilliant investor during his first years working at the company… But lately, it seems that he has become too bold, and too reckless… I’ve been pouring over our financial statements for the past few weeks, and I can’t really vouch for the decisions my brother has been making. If I were in his position, I sure as hell would be doing things differently. If I had to sum it up, I’d say that Earl got too greedy, too fast.
Of course, it’s not like what I’m telling you matters much. My brother has successfully entrenched himself in the company, and I’m just a mere outsider as of now. Even though my father always told us that, if we wanted, we both could run the company one day… Well, that seems more like a pipe-dream nowadays. Earl acts as if he’s the sole heir of the Donovan business, and my antics in college didn’t exactly help my case.
But it’s time for me to change that. Specially now that Earl seems to be acting like a loose cannon.
"Thank you, Dad," I tell him, getting up to feet. "I won’t disappoint you."
"I know you won’t," he replies kindly, acting more like a father than a CEO. Feeling lighter than I’ve felt in months, I stroll out of my father’s office.
"So, do I have a target on my back now?" Earl asks as he sees me come out of the office. He’s standing up in the hallway, facing one of the large paintings we have hanging there, a replica of the Battle of the Gettysburg. The Civil War - how fitting.
"Were you listening in?" I ask him, but I don’t need him to answer to know that eavesdropping was exactly what he was doing. "Look, Earl, I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye," I continue, trying to build a bridge between m
e and him, "but that doesn’t mean we can’t get along. I know you’re working hard under Dad, and I can help you to --"
"Please, Clarise," he scoffs, never taking his eyes off the painting. "What exactly do you think you can help me with? If I were you, I’d just stay home and enjoy myself. Party around - you’re better at that than managing a business."
"No," I tell him, a cold tone to my voice. "This is going to happen, whether you like it or not."
"We’ll see," he says, finally turning to me and smiling. It’s a crooked smile, one brimming with unspoken threats.
"Yes, we’ll see," I whisper, my eyes locked on his. I tried to bury the hatchet and he has spat in my face. Now, more than ever, I need to step up my game. And there’s only one way for me to do that.
Connor.
During the whole month, I gave him all the distance he seemed to need. Of course, what Connor hasn’t realized is that this distance is nothing but a trap. Every time we cross paths I offer him a smile and a suggestive glance, and I’m always wearing the kind of clothes that ensure he’ll be thinking of me for the rest of the day.
Distance and time - I gave him both these things, but only because I’m a patient girl. I learned not to rush into things, to take my time… And that’s exactly what I’m doing with him. I’m driving him crazy one day at a time, and it’s working.
But there’s a time for patience, and a time for boldness.
Can you guess what time is it right now?
Connor
"Do you mind?" Clarise asks me, pointing at the chair opposite to mine, on the other side of the desk.
"No, of course not," I tell her with a smile, and then I turn my focus back to the documents in front of me.
I’ve been living with the Donovans for more than a month now and, even though avoiding Clarise is close to impossible, I’ve been doing my best. Sure, that isn’t exactly a long-term solution, but I couldn’t think of anything better. After what happened in my first day at the estate, I simply couldn’t allow myself to be dragged down that path. And, taking into account that my resolve was crumbling fast, avoiding her as much as possible seemed like the logical thing to do.
Yes, I have dinner with the Donovans almost every day; but, aside from that, I don’t see Clarise that much. I spend most of my days holed up in the family library, completely isolated from the outside world as I prepare for my trial by fire. Jonathan has told me that he wants to meet me at the Donovan Towers for my first real meeting, and I’ve studied his investments like a madman.
Lately, though, Clarise has been spending her days in the library as well. I don’t know what got into her, but she looks like a woman possessed, always dragging a mountain of books behind her. I guess she took my words to heart, and decided to do her best to achieve her goals.
Well, at least I’ve been a positive influence on her. At least as much as she has been a bad influence on me.
No matter how much I try to restrain those thoughts inside my head, I fail each and every time. Everytime I see her it’s as if I forget all about who I am - I stop being Connor, a man of the Order, and I turn into… someone else. Someone dangerous and unpredictable.
"How’s it going?" I ask her, leaning back against my chair. Slowly, she raises her head from the large folder in front of her and looks back into my eyes, slightly surprised to hear me speak - whenever I’m around her, I do my best to keep my mouth shut. "Your studies, I mean."
"It’s hard," she sighs in frustration, patting the open pages of the book with the palm of her hand. "We’ve got so many investments, in so many markets… It’s almost impossible to keep track, you know?"
"I know," I laugh, waving at the documents in front of me. "We’re in the same boat, Clarise."
"We are," she says, a laugh escaping her lips and making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I watch her lips move as she smiles, and the memories of their strawberry flavor hit me like a brick. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I give her one nod and try to focus on the documents in front of me. Of course, I’m no longer reading anything - I’m just staring at the letters and numbers, my mind racing at a thousand miles per hour.
"Hey," Clarise whispers, reaching across the desk and laying her hand on top of mine. I hold my breath as I feel her manicured fingers brushing against mine, and I raise my eyes hesitantly. "It’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it too."
"Thinkin’ about what?" I ask her, feeling like a complete idiot the moment I hear my own words.
"That kiss…" She whispers, that damned smile on her face. "I can’t stop thinking about it too."
"I haven’t been thinking about it," I lie, and her smile widens. Liar, I can almost hear her say.
"It’s okay, Connor. I won’t tell anybody," she says, lowering her voice. She gets up from her seat and walks around the desk, making her way toward me. Pushing herself up onto the desk, she sits there and dangles her legs from the edge.
"Clarise, I --"
"If you’re going to lie, I don’t want you to speak," she tells me, pressing her index finger over my lips and shutting me up.
"Okay, okay. I’ve been thinking about it… I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, Clarise. But that doesn’t mean anything."
"You’re wrong," she shoots back fast, "it means everything." Reaching for me, she rests her hand on my shoulder and slides it down to my chest, her spread fingers over my heart. "I can feel it in here," she continues, pressing the palm of her hand against my heart.
"Clarise --"
"I want you, Connor," she tells me, this time not even bothering with innuendo. She goes straight for the kill, her words like a spear straight through my heart. I want you, her words echo inside my skull, drowning all of my rational thoughts. My heartbeat becomes quicker, and I feel my cock twitching inside my pants.
I want you.
I want you.
"No!" I tell her, grabbing her by the wrist and pushing her away from me. Jumping up to my feet, I purse my lips and take one step back, almost as if I’m trying to escape her. She climbs down from the desk and follows after me, only stopping when I have my back pressed against the wall.
"Then tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone," she whispers, so close to me that I can almost feel the warmth of her skin.
I open my mouth to do what she’s asking of me, but there’s a tight knot in my throat, one stopping all words from reaching my mouth. Looking into her eyes, my breathing becoming harder with each passing second, I realize that I simply can’t say it.
I can’t lie to her.
"See?" She whispers, her eyes still on mine. She takes one more step toward me, closing the distance between our bodies, but I sidestep her.
"I have to go," I tell her, my voice fraught with tension. Before I give her the time to reply, I march out of the library as fast as I can. I make my way toward the chapel, an angry swarm of thoughts stabbing my head from the inside out.
Right now, I have to do what every desperate man does: I have to pray.
Please, God, I think to myself, give me a little help.
Connor
I knew that working with the Donovans would be a complicated matter. I just didn’t foresee exactly how truly complicated it’d be. And now that I’m in the thick of it, I can see all sorts of unexpected challenges looming on the horizon.
And now there’s this whole situation with Clarise… I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about her that sets me off, making my heart speed up and my breathing grow shallow. She’s a sin on high-heels and, no matter how careful I try to be around her, I’m always on the verge of turning into a wild animal. Whenever she’s around me, I’m mere seconds away from falling into temptation.
If you think that I shouldn’t be such a hardass about a vow I took years ago, that’s because you don’t really know me. But, then again, we’re just getting to know each other, aren’t we? The thing is, what I want the most is to measure up to the man my father was…
And, like he told me countless times, a man’s word is his bond. I gave my word to both God and myself, and I intend to keep it.
But I guess that, as hard as I want to keep my word, Clarise seems to be hell-bent on grinding my vows into dust. I mean, how else would I explain it? She seems to take delight in knowing that she’s making me bend, that devilish smile of hers always on her lips. Ah, her lips… Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything as sweet as her lips.
She tasted just like ripe strawberries, and I still have no idea how I managed to push her away from me. In that moment, all I ever wanted was to pin her against the wall and press my body against hers. I wanted to ravage her, to fuck her like no other man ever has… And I felt the exact same thing in the library. Jesus, I have no idea how I even managed to get out of there.
It’s funny, though—even though I’m an experienced man when it comes to women and sex, I’ve never come across someone like Clarise. All she has to do is look at me and I feel my blood boiling inside my veins, lust making my heart thrash inside my chest.
But, whatever it takes, I have to keep myself (and Clarise, for that matter) on the right path. There’s too much at stake here for me to start my mission with the wrong foot.
"Connor?" I hear Clarise’s voice call my name, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up at once. I’m sitting on the front pews of the Donovan chapel, facing the altar and the large wooden cross hanging overhead, and I just look back at her over my shoulder.
She’s walking down the aisle slowly, her high-heels clicking across the marble floor, and the sway of her hips is almost hypnotizing. My throat grows dry as she approaches, and I have to take my eyes from her to regain my composure.
Even in a chapel, I guess there’s no hiding from her.
"You missed dinner again," she tells me softly, sitting down next to me.
"I needed some time alone," I reply, still avoiding her gaze. "To think… and to pray."