Desperate, to have his mouth against my flesh, hoping beyond all hope that I’ll be able to go through with this, I reached up to the pearl white buttons that held my shirt together and started to unbutton them. Little by little the fabric fell apart, opening him to my heart; when I reached the third button, just below my breast, his hand slid under my shirt and pushed it back. I gasped for a charged breath. His soft hot fingertips caressed my firm pebbled nipples, creating an uncontrollable craving that pounded between my legs.
His eyes never broke from mine as I reached up and unbuttoned his shirt. His lips found mine again while his hands attentively learned the topography of my body. Kissing me between my breasts, he dragged the tip of his tongue across my skin before his teeth nipped at my hardened nipples.
It’s been too long since I’ve had someone touch me like this; years of burdens, dropped at the altar of this moment. He was teasing me while everything I was begged him to touch me. His hands methodically explored my body running down my sides across my stomach and ready to pull on the waist band of my boxers when he stopped and noticed the damage to my one side.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I answered as I pushed him off me and rolled onto my side.
“Lauren, who did this to you?” he asked, as he pulled me onto my back. His eyes were fixed to my side as he waited for me to answer.
“Nobody,” I answered. Suddenly I was self-conscious about my body.
“Mi dama, that won’t do. I must insist, who damaged you?”
“These are just the scars. The wounds I bury everyday lay deeper than this. Don’t ask me to tell you who damaged me, there are too many to count.”
Delicately he caressed his fingertips over my cuts and punctures, before he pressed his lips to each one. I could hear him trying to heal me as his lips lifted. “Someday, Lauren, someday you will tell me.”
“Someday is a moment which will have its own time, and for whatever reason, be it right or wrong, I am here with you willing to give you a part of me that hasn’t been offered to anyone else in a very, very long time.”
His eyes flickered with a sinful possession, narrowing as he dragged his lips across my abdomen hovering just below my navel. His fingers caught the waistband of my boxers and pulled them down past my thighs. A wicked urge rushed between my legs as my hands tangled into his thick, tousled black hair. I wanted to feel him drag his tongue along the crest of my desire, and taste for the first time what I have kept sacred for so long.
He pulled his mouth from my flesh, smiling at the raging storm he was creating in my body. His eyes soaked in my exposed flesh; he stood up off the bed and unsnapped his jeans. Unhurriedly he lowered the zipper, and dragged them down off his body. His erection pushed diligently at his silk boxers. A soft fabric bound his rock hard intentions; they were the last thing separating us from complete and utter discovery. I looked up at him and his eyes caught mine before I wrapped my fingers around the waistband of his boxers and tugged, making them fall into a crumpled pile at his feet. He pushed his leg between my knees and lowered me onto the bed.
He slinked on top of me, meticulously possessing every inch of my skin with his mouth. He caught my wrists and pinned my arms up over my head. A rush of apprehension tanked in my stomach before desire saturated my most intimate spaces. My body was his road map to unabashed pleasure. His mouth pressed and drove against my skin, first the bend of my neck, then the curve of my breasts, next the stretch of my stomach, and finally, the span of my thighs before he spread my legs apart. Cool air charged my edges, dampening and throbbing for him. His eyes caught my smile as I waited for his tongue to tap and dance against me. Bursts of heat flowed against the crest between my legs, his breath evoking the sway of my hips as he smiled and lowered his lips to the inside of my thigh.
“Lauren, I’m going to make you beg,” he said as the cool air of the room replaced the heat of his lips. “I’m not going to stop tasting you until I feel you explode against my tongue.”
Anxiety reared its cruel intention and I was vexed.
“I don’t beg,” I breathed.
An unabashed smile crept across his face. Giving Alejandro complete control over me wasn’t something that was going to come easy, especially when I am the most vulnerable. His eyes were wickedly sexy while the muscles across his jaw pulled taut. My body surged with a desire that had been unfulfilled for too long, my hips automatically rolled and swayed waiting in anticipation of him tasting how ready I was. My hands knotted into his shiny black hair and I pushed him to where I needed him to please me. Deep lingering groans rose from my throat as his tongue lapped at my desire. Swirling and sucking, pulling and pressure, dampened with the heat of his mouth and the cool chill of his release. Everything I had missed, everything I had pushed away for so long filled my soul. Strong waves vibrated through my body, tingling with jolts of electricity that shot through my core. Was this the freedom I had been missing for so long? I couldn’t remember if I’d ever felt that way before. Maybe Alejandro was a master of making women beg, or maybe not; but when his fingers breached the loneliest place on my body, I lost my breath, and wordlessly begged him to take me.
I pulled up my legs hoping the crashing thrust of my hips would drive his fingers deeper, his mouth still tasting the swollen space he now owned, as his other hand toiled and pressed my breasts. I rolled up, clawing at him, trying to force his fingers faster and deeper into my body.
“That’s right, mi dame, beg me. Beg me with your body.” He pushed his mouth against me, catching his breath with a low rumbling moan and that was it. My body craved his weight, ached to feel him push and pull deeper and harder inside of me.
“I need you … inside of me. Please Alejandro, I can’t take this anymore,” I huffed between thrusts of my hips against his fingers and tongue.
His hands left my body and his mouth withdrew from between my legs and suddenly I was floating in a sea of incomplete. Alejandro leaned across his bed and pulled a condom from his nightstand. Never have I had such an unalterable craving that owned me entirely. For over ten years I had been denying physical passion and my carnal needs, but today I easily became a slave to its pleasure. As much as I hated to relinquish control to someone else, in that moment, no matter how anxious I was … I couldn’t stop it … my body wouldn’t let me; and, quite frankly, neither did my heart.
“You okay?” he asked as he dusted my face with kisses. I nodded, wordlessly still begging him to fill me. His body hovered over me as he pushed his lips hard against mine. Our bodies, molding perfectly as he rolled his hips between my legs and my body welcomed his length. Slowly he pressed, deeper; quickly he pulled back, and then slowly again he’d push until he felt my body accept his size. My hips bucking under his thrust; he answered with a sway of his pelvis. Deeper he’d press, faster I would respond.
“You like that … don’t you,” he growled.
“Yes, faster,” I huffed. My body easily remembered what my heart had forgotten. I wanted to explode against him as the walls of my desire clenched and accepted their fate. I wanted to be revered, adored, and loved. Alejandro thrust faster and deeper as our bodies worked in rhythm. I dragged my hands down his muscular backside urging him to thrust harder. His grunts and moans with each push and pull were salacious. The velocity of our bodies quickened balancing on the sharp edge of oblivion as he kissed me, sweeping his tongue across mine. Our bodies pumped and thundered solid against one another as we grabbed with such force that the line between pain and ecstasy melded. We shivered and jerked simultaneously for what seemed forever. Our breaths panting in unison; he didn’t stop thrusting inside me as his fingers found my spot and rubbed causing me to explode around him again. Bolts of white electricity exploded behind my closed eyes, ripping through out my entire body. Deep-seated moans escaped in rapid succession as I cried out my satisfaction. He owned my pleasure, twice. As I began to come back from where he took me and reality tickled at my being, my whole body relaxed i
nto the aftermath of his talent. He rolled over to his side and pulled me in into his arms, pressing his lips to my temple as his words melted into my flesh.
“Promise me you’ll make that noise every time I make you come.”
I answered an inaudible yes as we finally lay there tucked in each other’s arms, tired, sweaty and satisfied.
He stretched over the other side of the bed where the tray of food rested precariously on the edge and plucked a couple of grapes from their stems. He popped one in his mouth before he teased and dangled one above me. I reached for it and he pulled it away. Control, that’s what he desired, so I opened my mouth and let him, feed me. As soon as I closed my mouth, his lips connected and pressed against mine, not as forceful as he did earlier, but gently like he was reminding me that he was honorable. His tongue languidly tangled with mine, the flavor of sweet grapes mingled with his zest.
“You really are beautiful, I couldn’t help myself,” he said as he pulled away from our kiss. His hand swept the hair back from my eyes.
“You sure it wasn’t the see-through white button-up?” I joked with him. He smiled and an animalistic desire mounted in my body again.
“Well, that helped. Are you hungry?” he asked as he pulled the huge tray of food to his side. I watched as his muscles flexed from his shoulders all the way down across his backside to his ankles. His shiny black hair fell and tumbled, almost daring my hands to get tangled up in its waves. I felt like a lioness that wanted to catch him, bring him to my den and ravage his body.
“Yeah, I’m starving,” I told him as I pushed against his back spooning him to reach the tray of food. He was so warm and we fit so comfortably together.
“Well, I better feed you so you’re prepared for round two,” he said, smiling with a handful of juicy red strawberries and plump green grapes. I gave him a ravenous look before I laid back on the bed and let him feed me.
The second shower of the day felt just as good as the first. Alejandro’s fingers pressed down my spine, catching every last ounce of passion he sparked in the haven between my legs.
Like bees to honey, his lips traced the same paths they discovered hours before. We wanted more than the limited discovery in the confines of soft sheets. The shower pummeled our bodies, its water protected us with its heat and steam, and its chills rolled in waves over our flesh.
I asked for more by hitching my legs around Alejandro’s hips, he answered by pinning me against the heated granite. Our kiss feverish; he was carnal and demanding when he pushed inside of me. I lost my breath in the first couple of thrusts that my body accepted him. He was spreading me more than the physical with the roll of his hips; the huffs of his breath took me farther than any urge I’ve experienced before. It was lascivious, more than any will to survive; with every push, he pulled me deeper into his possession.
When Alejandro stepped out his skin glistened with the remnants of water beading across his olive skin and as I watched his muscles move under his dampened skin I wanted to believe he was mine. The visions of our bodies entwined and twisted played over and over in my mind, his hands capturing me, pushing and pulling my body beyond the confines I had created for myself. My heart sped, my stomach swirled as I relived everything Alejandro did to me. Suddenly, my vision dissolved into solitary flashing cursor blinking spastically in the bottom corner of my eye before Roger’s name glowed solid. Frustration flooded my body as the sheer dread of talking to him drizzled across my skin, what was I going to say to him? I wasn’t ready to talk as his voice flooded my head.
“Lauren? Hey Lauren—I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” his voice quivered.
“Roger can’t talk right now,” I answered, aloof.
“Lauren, please don’t. I’m so sorry.”
“Fine, I know you’re sorry, but I can’t talk right now,” I answered deliberately. Severing my connection to Roger, I was back in the shower alone. My pure oasis was trampled by the angst that Roger left in his wake.
At least Alejandro had left my clothes from earlier today folded, clean and smelling like him. After getting dressed, I grabbed a brush and ran it a couple of times through my hair, before pulling it into a wet ponytail. As much as I didn’t want to, I knew I needed to contact Roger. Tension throbbed up through my back settling in my jaw. Roger had hurt me and at this point I wasn’t ready to forgive him.
I poked my head out of the bathroom and noticed the bedroom door was closed. Mirroring the bedroom door, I shut the bathroom door and locked it. I needed to get a hold of Roger. Easy enough, I was beginning to understand how to use the prototype. Roger’s file appeared before my eyes. The phone icon glowed bright green and the graphic equalizer came to life as the ringing climbed in my head.
Roger answered by the third ring.
“Lauren, hi, I wanted to tell you sorry for my reaction.” Roger spoke in a hushed whisper.
“No problem,” I answered indifferently.
“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
I accepted his apology, while making some of my own. Long explanations were not what I needed right now. I was relieved and glad to have that out of the way but deep down I wasn’t ready to forgive him completely.
“Did you get anything out of Alejandro? How was the meeting this morning with Marshall?”
I didn’t want him to know what I did with Alejandro today. Even though I was still holding a small grudge, I knew it would devastate him and I didn’t want to do that.
“I actually didn’t meet with Marshall. I—ah—hit my head.” There, just enough information but not too much.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
“I just needed a rest. That’s all. I feel a lot better now. Besides, Alejandro rescheduled our meeting for tomorrow,” I said, still trying to keep my day private.
“Well, Lauren, I needed to tell you. I’m … well …” He paused for a long moment. “I, oh man, I’m on a flight to D.C.”
A long silence rested between us. I tried to suck in a deep breath, but my diaphragm went rigid, like someone punched me in my gut. I wasn’t expecting him to be heading home. Without Roger here, I was the perfect target. An uncomfortable silence clung to the empty space between us.
“Lauren, listen, I had to go; Sam’s in trouble. She has my prototype in her head and I had to trust my gut feeling that you’d be okay.”
“What the hell do you think is in my head, Roger?”
“I knew you’d be upset, but I have to go. If I had a choice I would stay with you. It’s just—I have to find out if Sam is playing the middle against the ends.”
“Don’t worry about it. Take care of the situation. I understand. I can handle things on this end.” Relief poured over my body, at least he wouldn’t find out about Alejandro, yet. But that meant I was going to be alone. No back up, nothing. If Marshall decided to take me out—I was on my own.
“Are you sure? I’m hoping to handle this in a couple of days then be back to get you home.”
“I’m sure. Take care of Sam.” I disconnected first this time. I closed my eyes and visualized a sunset where shades of red drew strength from the mountains pushing on the lake filled sky. It was my favorite place to go when I needed to feel peace.
I searched the house for Alejandro. I was about to give up when I found him in the kitchen.
“There you are,” I murmured. A strange awkwardness built between us, disappointment filled his eyes. I dropped my hands to my sides, wondering what had happened in the short period of time that he had left me in the bathroom. I didn’t say a word, waiting for him to break the silence or stare whichever came first.
“Who would want to hurt her?” He looked away and mumbled as he walked to the other side of the kitchen.
“Hurt who?” I innocently asked, breaking the trance he was under. He grabbed my shoulders squaring his body to mine. He looked deep into my eyes trying to find answers.
“Lauren, tell me, do you know what happened to Samantha?” His grip grew
tighter. I was nervous. I didn’t want to be put into this position. This wasn’t what I wanted to spend the rest of the day discussing.
“What do you mean?” I played dumb.
“Do you know where she could be?” he asked with desperation in his voice.
“Did you try her cell phone?” I asked, encouraging my innocence.
“Yes, there was no answer.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with hope.
“You can contact her right—with your prototype? Call her?” His words ran from his mouth so fast, almost tripping over one another, anticipation radiated through his entire body.
“Oh, well, yeah—should be able to. What do you want me to say?” I was suffocated by jealousy. The image of Sam kissing Marshall passionately at my house just days earlier shoved its way into my mind. Resentment smoldered deep in my abdomen. I didn’t want to feel jealous, but it just oozed over me like an erupting volcano. I wasn’t a heartless bitch, I was concerned for Sam because I knew where she was and what her future was going to be if Roger didn’t catch her soon, but seeing Alejandro’s reaction to her threatened me.
“Tell her—I know what she was planning to do to SI.”
“What was she going to do?” I asked, knowing full well her intentions; I had the proof in my prototype.
“Nothing that would concern you, mi dama; she needs to call me. I will work it out with her, but she needs to get in touch with me. Understand.” He wrung his hands. I watched him pace back and forth.
I didn’t like this obsession he seemed to have for her and I wanted to ask him what he was planning to do with her. Instead, I did what he asked me to do. He watched me speak and stare out into a vacant blank space in front of me.
“Contact Samantha Wilkins,” I said in a clear firm voice, but nothing happened. The file lay wide open but the phone icon didn’t turn green. I cleared my voice and repeated her name … nothing.
Prototype Page 14