Ecstasy Rises (Darker Ecstasy Book 2)

by Lorraine Kathyrn

  “Why vodka rocks?”

  “No. Why did you need to see me?”

  “I just wanted to see you.”

  “You said needed before.”

  “Did I?”

  “You did.”

  “Well, then, I needed to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I did.” He took another sip and looked at me hard. I don’t mean he looked at me closely, I mean I felt his gaze. It was hard, and it pierced right through me, making me want to gasp. “What happened?”

  “I was feeling a bit…you know…so I took the afternoon off, and I…,” I paused, thinking about what Tony had said, about how I had put the barriers up between Malcolm and myself. I walked around the kitchen island and took his hand, ignoring his look of surprise. “Come sit with me, please?” I asked, my voice low.

  “Of course.”

  He stood up and let me lead him in to the living room, sitting next to each other on the sofa. I took his hand in both of mine and held it on my lap.

  “I called Tony and we met at the market. He had some errands to run and we had lunch. Chatted a bit.” I stopped again, my hands caressing and massaging his mindlessly. “I told him about how much it bothered me to not be able to touch you or kiss you or anything, how aloof we are with each other, and he pointed out very plainly what you so elegantly stated earlier.”

  “What was that?” he asked quietly.

  “That the walls between us were designed, funded and constructed by me. I had no one to blame but myself.” I sighed, fidgeting a bit. “As such, I would also be responsible for their demolition.”

  “Arguable.” Malcolm said, finishing his drink. You may have been the master architect but I was a willing engineer.” I smiled at that. “You’re not talking about at work, are you?”

  “No.” I sat for a minute, sizing my hand against his in my lap, wondering at the size difference. “I mean…anywhere but work, I think.”

  “I see.”

  “I was thinking about that as I was making my way for the bus – I was actually thinking of getting a cab later to surprise you at home – when I ran in to an old friend from college.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” I leaned back, smiling. “I hadn’t seen him for at least twenty years. Which was weird because we were so close in school. We did just about everything together.” I grew quiet, a small smile on my face, looking at the wall and not seeing it, remembering being young and immortal.

  “What happened?”

  “Hmmm? Not sure. He moved to the bay area and got really…flakey. He wouldn’t return phone calls or letters. I don’t know why, but I just chalked it up to he couldn’t be bothered.” I sighed. “But when I saw him today, he was happy – so genuinely happy – to see me, and so damn lively it was like Robbie circa 1990 again.” I stopped, feeling my eyes start to tear and powerless to stop it. “Except it’s not quite1990 Robbie.”

  “What is it?” he asked quietly.

  “HIV. AIDS. He has a pretty big lesion on his throat, and what looks like the remnants of one on his temple,” I said. I tried to blink back the tears and wasn’t very successful.

  “I’m so sorry, Melody.”

  “You know, I have been trying to figure out why I am so upset by this. We haven’t been close for a long time. So why am I so upset? I am angry, no – I am pissed the fuck off, at having seen him again only to find that he’s sick, he’s sick and he’s dying, and there’s no way for him to get better and it’s just so unfair. My heart burns with rage over it.” I was crying, not sobbing, but the tears ran freely down my cheeks.

  “You may not have seen him, Melody, but you never stopped caring for him,” Malcolm said as he gently pulled me on to his lap. I laid my head on shoulder, soothed by his nearness and the feel of his arms around me. “I think it would be odd if you weren’t upset.”

  “You do?”

  “Absolutely. It’s natural for you to feel a bit…cheated.”

  “Thank you,” I sighed. We sat in silence.

  “Can I ask if Robbie is tall? Thin with blonde hair?” Malcolm said after a long while.

  “Yes, he is.” I sat up on his lap to look at him. “How did you know?”

  “I saw you with him as I was heading over here.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  I looked at him closely, at his expression of frank and open affection, and my breath caught. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen this expression before, I had, all the time in fact, but I gave an internal groan at my own stupidity in misreading it for so long. I took a deep breath.

  “Malcolm, I…” I looked at him, his green eyes widening just a bit, and realized what I was about to do. “I think I’m going to make myself a drink. Would you like another?” I asked, sliding off his lap and feeling like a grade-A USDA choice idiot.

  “Just some water would be lovely,” he said, looking at me funny.

  I made my way quickly to the kitchen and stood against the wall, taking deep breaths. Shit, I thought, what the hell is my problem. The first time there’s affection between us, non post-coital affection anyway, and I’m about to tell him I love him. Idiot! He’ll think I’m a complete moron.

  I detoured to the powder room off the hall and splashed some cold water on my face, scrubbing it dry with the towel. My skin looked shiny, my eyes were red-rimmed and still looked teary, but on the whole I wasn’t a wreck. Satisfied there was no major case of raccoon eyes from my crying to frighten him off, I head back towards the kitchen.

  “What are these boxes with the glittery ‘D’s on them?” Malcolm called from the living room.

  “Hmmm?” I called back, washing Malcolm’s glass and placing it in the drain to dry.

  “On the shelf next to the barrister’s case? There are three large boxes with big, glittery double D’s on them?”

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Nothing, really. Just leave them be,” I called back. I stilled for a moment, two empty glasses in my hands, listening. “Malcolm?”

  “Oh my,” he laughed. “Duran Duran, huh?”

  “Fuck,” I said, putting the empty glasses on the counter. I hurried back in to the living room and found Malcolm looking through one of the boxes. “You looked.”

  “I can see why you didn’t want me to open them,” he said, pulling out an old magazine in a clear plastic protective envelope. “Tiger Beat?”

  “It was for young teenage girls.”

  “1985? You would have been…?”

  “17,” I admitted shamefacedly.

  “Young teenage girls?” he teased, smiling at me.

  “Well, that was the target market…”

  “I see,” he said, turning back to the magazine. “Are you Roger Taylor’s perfect date? Take the quiz!” he read. He looked at me and gave me a wink, taking the magazine out. “Let’s see how you did,” he thumbed through the pages quickly.

  “Malcolm, please - “

  “Wow. 100%. I’m impressed,” he laughed. He slipped the magazine back into the plastic and put it back in the box.

  “Okay. I was a bit obsessed with Duran Duran when I was a teenager.”

  “A bit?” he asked, looking like he was trying not to laugh.

  “A lot?”

  “You have three boxes filled with Duran Duran memorabilia?”

  “Okay, I had an unhealthy obsession with Duran Duran when I was a teenager.”

  “And…?”

  “And what?”

  “And as an otherwise normal adult?”

  “No,” I said, smiling at him shyly. “I just can’t bring myself to throw it all away.” I closed the lid and slid the box back in to its place. “Let me get you your water,” I said softly, but Malcolm grabbed my upper arms and pulled me to him.

  He slid his hands up my arms and held my face, looking at me intently for a moment before kissing me hard, his hands sliding to the back of my head and pulling me up to my toes. His kiss seemed urgent, despe
rately so, as he alternated pushing his tongue into my mouth with sucking and biting at my tongue when I explored his. I moaned a bit, out of shock at the intensity more than anything else, while my hands were raised to my shoulders before dropping down to hang impotently at my sides.

  “Strip,” he growled, breaking the kiss for the briefest of moments. I complied, unbuttoning my blouse and letting it fall to the floor at my feet. My bra quickly followed, before my hands shakily unzipped my skirt. I shimmied, letting it slide down my legs before stepping out of it and pushing it away with my foot. I pushed down on my panties and garter, taking my stockings with them, wiggling my hips and sort of goosestepping in place to get everything off at once. Malcolm’s toy fell to the floor with a thud.

  “What was that?” he asked, moving his lips down my neck.

  “The Oyster.”

  His hand grabbed at my hair, pulling my head back, as he stood up tall and looked at my face closely. “You had it on all this time?” I nodded, my mouth dry, not sure if he was upset or happy. “Why didn’t you take it off?”

  “You didn’t tell me I could,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  With a groan, Malcolm seemed to…attack me. His mouth and hands and teeth seemed to be all over me, sucking at my nipple, biting at my ankle, caressing my neck. I grew dizzy, unable to keep up with his sensual assault, until I found myself on my back in front of my overstuffed chair, a suddenly naked Malcolm between my thighs, his cock pounding at me mercilessly while my heels dug in his ass to spur him on.

  “You’re mine, Melody. You belong to me,” he panted against my neck. He slid his arms beneath me, his hands splayed on my shoulder blades, pulling me to him tightly. “Every bit of you. Mine.”

  “Yes.” I slid my hands across his back, arching myself in to him. “Yours, sir” I breathed as he bit at my shoulder.

  “Malcolm,” he groaned in to my ear. “Say ‘I’m yours, Malcolm.”

  “I’m yours, Malcolm,” I whispered. “Oh god, please, don’t stop.” I could feel myself tense up as he began thrusting in to me harder, pulling almost completely out before slamming back in to me with each stroke. I leveraged myself against him with my legs, raising my hips to his, moving my hands to my breasts and pinching my nipples as I came.

  Malcolm slowed, fucking me shallowly as I recovered from my orgasm. He raised himself up on his hands and looked down at me, the hair at his temples and brow damp with sweat. I reached up to touch his lips, but he darted his head and took my fingers in his mouth, sucking on them for a moment before pushing himself backwards. My legs fell off his hips and he withdrew from me completely. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him, his cock still hard, glistening against my thigh.

  “Come,” he said, holding his hand out to me to pull me up. “Get on your knees, head resting on the chair,” he instructed, patting the overstuffed chair. I did as he asked, closing my eyes and sighing as he ran his hands up and down my back before kneading my ass. I felt him lean over me, the hair on his chest tickling my back, as he bent to whisper in my ear. “Don’t move.”

  I nodded, crossing my arms on the cushion and resting my head on them. I closed my eyes, thinking over what he’d said – that I belonged to him – the idea giving me a thrill that wasn’t exactly sexual. I heard him come back in and kneel behind me before he placed his left hand on my hip, moving me to lift my hips off my heels.

  “Do you remember what you said in my office today?” he asked quietly, his right hand sliding slowly from my hip to between my legs. He slipped his finger inside me as I shook my head. “No?”

  “I said a lot of things,” I said.

  “True. But I am concerned with one particular utterance.” He pulled his finger out, sliding it forward to tease my clit. “Can you guess what I refer to?” I shook my head as I felt the slicked up fingers of his left hand rubbing around my ass gently. I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about, but just in case I was wrong, I didn’t want to give him any ideas.

  My eyes flew open as I felt him slipping his finger – greasy with something – in my ass, and I groaned.

  “Now, my sweet Melody, can you remember what you said this morning?” His finger was pumping slowly in and out of my ass, so slicked up it moved freely. I groaned, my teeth clenched, trying to not tense up completely. “Is that a no?” he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper, as he added a second finger.

  “Malcolm, please, I - ” I began, raising my head to look at him over my shoulder. He looked back at me hotly, his eyes searing my words in my throat, a small smile on his lips.

  “Do you remember?” I nodded, mesmerized by his gaze and the slow, steady motions of his hands. “Tell me.”

  “I said you could fuck my ass.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m nervous,” I said, my voice barely audible. And I was. I was downright scared. Nearly petrified. But I was also intensely turned on, and quite conscious of the curiously erotic feeling of his fingers stretching me as they slid in and out. It was so different from the plug he sometimes used on me. This seemed far more intimate.

  This was flesh to flesh.

  The thought made me shiver.

  “Trust me,” he whispered. I nodded and lay my head back down on my arms. Malcolm moved his other hand from my clit to slide two fingers in to my pussy, moving them in a tandem rhythm with the ones in my ass. I moaned, goosebumps marching up my back as his fingers slowly worked my body, preparing me for him.

  He added a third finger in my pussy, pressing down with the fingers in my ass and up with the fingers in my pussy. I cried out, arching my back and lifting my hips as he slid his fingers back and forth together, pressing firmly but not hard. It felt insanely good, being gently stretched and filled by him, the friction from his fingers slightly painful.

  “Oh god…so good,” I moaned, throwing my head back. My hips rocked slightly, seeming of their own volition, in concert with his fingers. “Please don’t stop,” I begged as my hands moved back to grab my ass and spread myself wider for him.

  “Hands on the chair, Melody. Grab the arms,” he said, his voice sounding ragged. I obeyed quickly and looked over my shoulder, surprised at his use of my name instead of what I’d come to think of as his pet names for me, to find him watching me closely. “You need to come,” he stated.

  “Yes…please,” I panted, grateful at his knowledge of my body.

  “As you wish.” He changed the rhythm of his hands, moving them in tandem again, making the friction constant. I lowered my head to the cushion, whimpering as I felt my abdomen start to tighten. “That’s it, come, come for me, Melody,” Malcolm said, before bending over me to run his tongue down my spine. I arched my back, pushing my head deeper into the cushion of the chair, as I felt my toes start to curl against his thighs. My hands clamped down on the arms of the chair as I moaned incoherently into the cushion, my orgasm moving slowly through me, making my entire body pulse, my ass and pussy clamping down around Malcolm’s fingers for what seemed like hours.

  When I finally came back to my senses, Malcolm slowly pulled his fingers out of me, groaning softly as I whimpered.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, his hands roaming up and down my sides. I nodded, not wanting to speak. I couldn’t remember ever feeling as excited and apprehensive at the same time. “Relax, Melody,” he said, kissing my back softly. He rubbed his cock along the trough of my ass lightly, making me shiver. I felt him shift behind me, pulling back, and braced myself against the chair, trying to keep my breathing even.

  My head shot up, looking back over my shoulder at Malcolm as I felt him slide deliciously into my pussy. He smiled sweetly at me, almost sheepishly, and my heart forgot to beat for a moment.

  “What - ” I began, but he just shook his head, sinking down on his heels, pulling me on to his lap.

  “Fuck me. Ride me,” he breathed in to my ear, sliding his hands around to my breasts and pinching my nipples. I moved my arms back to wrap around his neck to help stabili
ze me, and began to move. I didn’t ride him so much as I just sort of…undulated on him, wriggling my hips about as I minimally moved up and down. (In all honesty, this was an entirely new position for me, and my legs already felt a bit rubbery. I did the best I could.) I began twisting, angling as I moved up and down, creating an intense pressure inside me, using my hips to hit my g-spot as much as possible, wondering at how effortless Malcolm always made it seem.

  “Oh god…Malcolm…” I whispered, feeling what little rhythm I was able to manage skip as my body tensed.

  “I know,” he said. He slid his hands to my hips to help me, and started thrusting up from below. “Touch yourself,” he whispered against my shoulder. I pulled one hand from his neck and dropped it between my legs, gently stroking my clit in pace with his thrusts.

  “I’m going to come,” I moaned, my other hand grabbing at Malcolm’s hair. He began licking and nibbling along my shoulder and I began to shake and buck on his lap. “Malcolm,” I rasped as his teeth sank in to the back of my neck, his hands pulling down on my hips as he thrust into me from below. I grabbed his hair and pulled it into my fist as I came, the suddenness and intensity of my orgasm surprising me.

  “Oh…Melody” Malcolm cried, his voice hoarse, as I felt the heat of his come bathe me on the inside.

  We remained like that, our bodies tremoring against each other, as our breathing slowly returned to normal. I sighed as I felt Malcolm’s arms move to encircle my waist and pull me tight against him.

  “I believe I bruised you,” he murmured, his lips against my neck.

  “Hmmm?” I was totally blissed out, my hands resting on his forearms at my waist, my eyes closed, head against his shoulder.

  “I bit you too hard.”

  “Hmmm?” I repeated.

  “Melody,” he said, his voice half laugh and half sigh. He kissed down my neck to my shoulder, murmuring something, before laying his head against mine, “…what you do…” all I could decipher.

  “Malcolm?”

  “Hmmm?” I laughed softly at his mimicking tone.

  “What were you saying? I didn’t quite catch it.”