Oh…my…God.
I couldn’t take anymore. My senses were maxed-out, flooded with too much information and feeling. The man grabbed the base of his thick shaft, positioned himself, and slowly…slowly…inch by inch…sank into her. When he was completely embedded, he began thrusting. The globes of his muscular rear end hardened with each quick, shallow pump until he climaxed, driving his lover half way up the bed on the final thrust.
Sebastian dragged me backwards, onto his lap as he sat down in the chair. His forehead rested on my back, his body still tucked inside of me. My throat tightened as a meaningful moment stretched between us. “Holy shit,” he whispered.
“I never knew it could be like this,” I heard myself whisper back.
“Neither did I.”
My body was still trembling when he stood me up and pulled out of me. He was unusually quiet as he fixed his own clothing before smoothing my dress back into place. My limbs being completely useless. A brooding silence hung over us. Had I not been so utterly spent, it would have made me feel awkward. But in the present state, it took all my energy just to put one foot in front of the other. After handing me my mask, he took me by the hand and dragged me out the door, the scene on the other side of the glass fading into the background.
He was obviously familiar with the layout, navigating us easily back to the room with the fireplace. Something about that didn’t sit right with me. We were headed for the door when a woman with a sleek, black bob and Amazonian proportions placed her hand on Sebastian’s arm. He braced subtly.
“Sebastian?”
She was busty. Fake, I thought enviously, though couldn’t be sure. My thought patterns resembled that of a cadaver at this point in the evening. I had nothing left for research and observation, only a sudden urge to visit the ladies room.
“I’m going to look for a restroom,” I whispered.
“Just around the corner,” said the woman with a guttural accent, German perhaps. I left them standing there and found the ladies room, stepped inside, and removed the mask.
There was an impressive amount of healthy color on my cheeks. I had forgotten what that looked like. The rosy glow made me look younger, less serious…happy. I ran a finger over my swollen lips and turned on the cold water. Cupping it, I drank thirstily in an effort to cool the heat blazing under my skin. After cleaning up the dampness marking my thighs, I walked back to the spot where I had left Sebastian and discovered them both missing. My heartbeat faltered, only slightly at first. It quickly increased to pounding like a jackhammer as I scanned the area and couldn’t locate him. I moved from room to room, searching frantically; anxiety wiping away the heady afterglow of the seismic orgasm I had only minutes ago.
And then I found him…
My heart crashed to the floor and splintered into dangerously jagged pieces. In a corner, away from the crowd, his mask was tipped up and his lips were locked onto the lips of the woman I had left him with. I’m surprised I didn’t faint from the shock. My whole body shook from the pain and sense of loss that gripped me. When I finally realized I could still move my legs, I turned and fled.
I walked as quickly as I could manage on stilettos, propelled by rage and shear force of will in search of the exit. I heard him calling me softly, trying not to draw too much attention to the barely clothed woman that was leaving a wake of curious stares as she shoved people out of her way.
Somehow I found the jewel box chamber and ran down the velvet corridor. I blasted the steel doors open hard enough to startle the hulking bouncer. Without a backward glance, I continued marching towards the street, too enraged to even consider where I was headed.
“Vera, stop.” He sounded angry and annoyed. The nerve…I didn’t look back. I knew he couldn’t run after me, but I wasn’t running either––mostly because I had no idea where I was, or where I could run to.
“I said stop, Vera. Goddamn it, you know I can’t run after you!” A strong hand encircled the upper part of my arm and spun me around. His face was a mixture of anger and frustration with an undercurrent of fear. Gripping my upper arms painfully, he shook me. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?! Don’t ever run from me again! You know I can’t run after you!”
I swung with everything I had, slapping him across the cheek. He dropped his hands, shocked at the force of my blow. “Don’t ever touch me again. Go back inside and enjoy yourself.”
He grabbed me again, his grip punishing, and pulled me into a deserted alley around the corner. Pushing me up against a cold wall, he caged me with his body, heat and anger burning through our clothes.
“Now you listen to me you little witch––” his voice was raw and low. “I was getting damn good at doing an impression of a dead man until you walked into my life. You don’t get to come in and disrupt everything––make me feel things I don’t want to feel, and then get to tell me it’s just sex!” he shouted, his hand slashing through the air. “You don’t get to turn my life upside down, make me want you…make me want things…” he shook his head. “I know you’re scared, and don’t even think about denying it. Fuck!!…I’m…” Breathing heavily, he looked around searching for words he didn’t have. “Forget it.” His shoulders sagged, the fight leaving him all at once.
Tears started to funnel down my face unchecked. I blinked repeatedly, trying to push them back, and bit my bottom lip in an attempt to stop it from trembling.
“Tell me. Are we just fucking? Because if that’s what this is then I’m done. I’m out.” He released me and turned away, then abruptly spun back towards me again. “And I sure as hell never said that before!”
It came tumbling out of him in a tone soaked in rage and lust and something else, something soft and vulnerable. I launched myself at him. Shaking, I held him tightly. I was a messy heap of raw, exposed nerves. With a few simple words, he had cut me to the quick. I shook my head.
“No…no, it’s not just sex,” I said with my face buried in his chest. I could feel his heart thumping loudly. His warm hands cupped my face, his thumbs brushed the wet stains off my cheeks. He tilted my chin up and stared down with passion and yearning in those brandy colored eyes. I lost myself in those eyes. Dropping his face onto the curve of my neck, he hugged me tightly, too tightly, as if he were scared that I would get away somehow.
“I had to know. That’s why I did it…I had to know.” Something around my heart released at the sound of his words, relieved that he felt bound to me––because he had already reached deep inside of me, and attached himself to vital organs.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We were both quiet on the drive back to the apartment. There was too much feeling hanging in the air between us, dense and charged with significance. He parked the Bentley, turned to look at me, and still said nothing. There was an obvious shade of apprehension mixed in with desire in his expression. He looked lost, unsure. His hands were on me the second the elevator doors shut. Touching, gripping, pulling me up against his body with an urgency that I recognized in myself. The brakes he depended on to keep him in check, at a distance, were failing.
As we entered the apartment, he yanked me forward into his bedroom without pausing. Everything happened quickly after that. His lips came crashing down on mine, much too hard. His hands were all over me. I pushed at his broad, sculpted shoulders trying to temper his passion.
“Easy,” I whispered.
“I can’t. I need you too much. I can’t be gentle right now.”
He divested me of my dress in seconds, leaving me standing in nothing other than my gladiator heels and the diamond earrings. I didn’t even have time to feel shy about it. He stripped himself carelessly, sending buttons flying in the air, never breaking his assault on my mouth as the clothing pooled at our feet. He pushed me down on the bed, not even bothering to pull back the down duvet, and his hard, aroused body fell on me. I was actually surprised he paused long enough to reach for a condom. He tore the foil between his teeth, his hands shaking as he rolled it on. Butter
flies settled in my stomach when he grasped both my wrist in one hand and raised them over my head, pinning me to the bed–– even though I knew he would never do anything to harm me. I trusted him implicitly. When had that happened?
The meager remains of his patience finally disintegrated. He slammed into me with enough force to drive us both up the bed. My body was ready for him, in silent correspondence with his. I gasped at the feeling of invasion, although not unwelcome. A dark thought, a strange euphoric feeling came over me. I liked being taken like this by him, being needed so desperately that reason ceased to exist. His need was so acute he wasn’t beyond inflicting a little pain.
“Are you okay?” he gasped.
“Better than okay.”
Acting on my words, I wrapped my legs around his waist and drew him deeper into my body, ready to lose myself. He started a vicious hammering that left little room for pleasure but I offered myself freely, giving him everything he needed. His eyes never left mine, communicating something I couldn’t decipher. On the last thrust he released my hands and rose up, came hard. His thick lashes lifted and his eyes, burning brightly, held mine. I watched pure bliss transform into stark vulnerability. And a sudden understanding dawned on me––whatever happened, this man would not let me go easily. Dragging air into his lungs, he collapsed on top of me. His fingers curved around my skull, held me steady while he kissed my neck softly.
I stroked his back and he melted into my touch, the subtle tension leaving him at once. His hold on me didn’t slacken. He wouldn’t let go, like breaking contact would deprive him of something necessary for survival. I recognized it easily now, had grown accustomed to it––I even liked it. I raked my short fingernails against the taut skin of his muscular rear end and he raised his head.
Searching my eyes, he asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
“I was rough,” he answered, his eyes flickering away in a guilty expression.
“I like that you don’t treat me like a piece of crystal.”
“But you didn’t…”
“It’s okay. You’ll owe me one.” Satisfied with what he found in my eyes, he nodded and scattered lazy, gentle kisses all over my face. When he finally pulled out of me, I winced at the loss of him.
“You’re sore. Wait here, I’ll run a bath.”
He removed the condom, and walked around the bed towards the bathroom. I could never tire of watching him walk around naked; the elegant lines of his body; the graceful way he moved in spite of his injury. An intensely powerful energy hid beneath the calm surface. He looked over his shoulder and found me stretched out on my side, my head propped up on my hand, and an appreciative smile curving my lips.
“Enjoying the view?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. More than anything, I was relieved to see the haunted look gone from his face.
With a shy smile, he murmured, “Give me a minute and you can enjoy it some more.”
I listened to him moving around: turning on the water, adjusting the knobs, the tub filling. It was easy for me to recognize that little boy now, the one rescuing small animals. He took such good care of me, making me feel cherished. Unwanted emotions began crowding me again so I pushed back against them. In an effort to distract myself, I glanced around the room.
It was large, decorated in the same style as the rest of the apartment, with a wall of windows that overlooked the lake. Only a few lights twinkled in the dark curtain of night. A triptych series of abstract sketches spanned the wall in front of the bed. Again, no pictures, nothing too personal, the environment sanitized of the past. I wanted to ask him about it but I didn’t want to ruin the comfortable ease between us. Instead, I picked up his scattered clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on hangers. I found some of the loose studs scattered on the carpet and noticed a few rips on his shirt.
When he returned, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing those absurdly expensive earrings and the high heeled gladiator sandals that came up to my knees. He stopped abruptly, his eyes brimming with excitement; so vastly different from the apathetic look that was usually there. You did that, the thought snuck in. He offered his hand while his eyes traveled from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. His compliments always came at unexpected moments. Caught by surprise, a rosy glow colored my cheeks. His eyes turned sultry, hungry, as he pulled me up against his naked body. Nimbly, he removed the earrings from my lobes and rubbed them. The priceless jewels were tossed carelessly on the bedside table like they were rhinestones. Then, taking my hand, he dragged me out of the bedroom.
The lights had been dimmed, painting the bathroom with a romantic luminescence. An enormous tub sat in the middle. A mother of pearl mosaic floor twinkled under our feet. He pushed me down to sit on the edge of the tub and held my foot up while he unzipped the sandals, throwing one by one aside. Total proficiency born out of practice, in this too.
How many others had there been? A pinch of jealousy popped up. So that’s what that feels like. Then an echo of words heard not too long ago intruded…by the time my father married his mother he had moved onto saving larger animals…how depressing.
I sank down to my chin in frothy bubbles. Even though the water was hot, my skin acclimated easily. Water splashed over the sides as he stepped in and sat behind me, his long legs encasing mine. Not leaving any distance between us, he hugged me tightly and kissed my temple.
“We’ve made a mess,” I giggled.
“It’s a wet bath. It’ll drain.”
The scent of something exotic, deep and earthy, drifted up in the steam of the hot water. He poured the oil in his large hands, and began massaging my back with quick, deep strokes of his thumbs. Starting around the base of my neck, he worked his way south, a warm flush spreading through my veins the lower he went. I exhaled deeply and closed my eyes. “You’re good at this.” He was great at it actually. I could barely keep my head up.
“Not nearly as good as you are.”
“I’m glad I can do that for you.” He answered with a soft kiss on the back of my neck. “Sebastian?”
“Hmm.”
“I have a million questions.”
I felt his smile on my shoulder blade. He nipped me, soothing it afterwards with a lick that made me shiver. “I thought you would.”
“That place––they know you there?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you go often?” Silence. I could feel him weighing how much to reveal and what the consequences would be.
“I used to…before the accident.”
“While you were married? With your wife?” I couldn’t keep the bewilderment out of my voice.
“No, before that.” His skilled hands traveled to my breast, where he teased my nipples into hard, little peaks. My breath quickened and my eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.
“If you’re trying to distract me––”
Chuckling, he whispered seductively, “I didn’t think it would be that easy.”
“Were you ever in the rooms, while other people watched?” Silence again, except for swish of the water.
“Yes…does that bother you?”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it yet. My tangled, messy emotions were still too fresh and close to the surface. I needed time––time to process way too much information. “With that German woman I found you kissing?” I asked hesitantly. My voice held a bitter edge.
He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, his lips resting on the curve of my neck. I felt the muffled ‘yes’ on my skin. Leaning forward, I pulled away from him but he held on tighter. “Don’t.”
“I just want you to consider how you would feel if you found me kissing someone else.”
His whole body stiffened. “There would be blood on my hands and you would find yourself standing next to a corpse.” Grasping my chin a shade too firmly, he looked into my face. “Don’t ever test how seriously I me
an that.” His eyes were fire and ice, reflecting the indisputable conviction in his words.
“Tell me about that place.”
He released my chin and returned to massaging my shoulders. My curiosity was raging but did I really want to know? Just hearing about little miss sauerkraut put me in a jealous tailspin. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “It’s a private club that caters to people’s…unique tastes. Voyeurism, bdsm, s&m, whatever you’re into.”
“What are you into?” Incurably curious. It was an affliction. I had to know––even though I was scared of the answer.
He shrugged, pausing to carefully chose his words. “I like control. No, that’s not true. I need it. Places like that––anonymity is essential, and after my accident…the scar, it’s too identifiable.” That answer only begged a thousand more questions. Did he stop because of his wife? Did he love her that much? “What you saw tonight was pretty tame.”
I looked over my shoulder and found his eyes shuttered, his thoughts inaccessible, his sensual mouth set in a firm line.
“Are you trying to scare me off?”
He shook his head slowly. “No…but I want to be honest with you. And I need you to be too.”
That was a request I couldn’t accommodate. “Are you telling me you’re a sadist?” My eyes were wide in anticipation. The thought of him wanting to inflict pain on me…no, it wouldn’t work.
“No, pain isn’t my thing. At least, not extreme pain.”
My brows creased inquisitively. “What other kind is there?”
His eyes dancing, alight with mischief, he replied, “We’ll save that demonstration for another night.”
I pressed backwards, against his muscular chest, and his penis twitched, turned hard against the small of my back. His hand skated over my taut abdomen. It moved lower, until he was raking through the patch of hair covering my sex. As he parted and stroked me, I gasped. He soothed the sting with his touch, working the oil into my tender skin. My body was bunching up again, straining, in desperate need of relief.
A Million Different Ways (A Horn Novel Book 1) Page 24