Compulsion: A Dark Billionaire Romance (#hot_feelings #1)

by Caroline Day

  Four.

  Is he here, in the crowd, or in the private room?

  Three.

  Who is this man that is parasitizing my brain, making my heart race whenever I think of our encounters?

  Two.

  I feel his eyes on me, and then someone touches my wrist. It gives me goosebumps of excitement but it's just Alex holding my friend’s hand. That was just my imagination.

  One.

  Everyone is buzzing, shouting, jumping for joy. The DJ wishes everyone Happy New Year. I feel joy for a while, too, but my eyes flit back and forth, searching for the stranger. Because I feel his presence. I feel him with my soul, with my heart. He is here, by my side. He saw me, but I...

  ‘Happy New Year, Lo!’ Andrew scoops me up and whirls me around like he did when I was a kid. When did he manage to leave the bar counter and get near me? ‘Shall we have another drink?’

  ‘Sure!’ Angela grabs my brother's hand and pulls him to the bar, Andrew follows them, and I stay in place, looking at my happy friends. I feel a cell phone vibration in my purse. An incoming message... The last one. From him.

  Anonymous: ‘You look great. I’m waiting for you.’

  I carefully walk through the crowd, trying not to catch my friends’ eyes, climb the stairs to the second floor and stop at the door with the door plat “VIP-1”. I hardly realize that the beginning of the end is upcoming, but it doesn't matter. It's time to end this. It's time to say goodbye to the past and leave it behind.

  Chapter 28.

  I have no idea how long I've been standing in front of the door, how long I've been glaring at the plate. I guess it took me a while to collect my thoughts. I feel vexation mixed with indifference. That’s weird... It would be fine if not for the excitement in the body and the total absence of any thoughts about the stranger.

  I suddenly realize that he is in the room already. He's there, all alone. And there is no blindfold on my face. Maybe he decided to show up, and I finally have an opportunity to find out who has been hiding from me until this day?

  I get into the room shrouded in semi-darkness and see that it’s empty! I just feel his hands on my waist, giving me the goosebumps all over my body. I feel the strong heat as if I were in sauna.

  ‘Don't turn around,’ he says, fixing my neck until I nod my head in agreement.

  ‘Will you let me see you?’

  ‘No.’

  So the New Year began with disappointments. I thought, I hoped that he would show me his face, explain me everything in the end, and then... Who knows…

  But we’ll never see each other again, and I’ll never know the stranger's name.

  Maybe it's for the best.

  ‘Did you miss me?’ he asks in a hoarse voice with a note of excitement. During our dates, I learned to distinguish his voice by his tones, hoarseness, and low frequencies. But I shrug indifferently and say:

  ‘You could say that, yes.’

  ‘I can’t hear it in your voice.’

  The blindfold covers my eyes. I don't resist, don't try to pull it off and throw it away, to the leather sofa on the right. Apparently, I'm not all right, but I don't think he cares. That night that we spent together in his studio was just a sweetener to calm down a devastated girl. He made it clear that there were no feelings between us.

  I'm just realizing how stupid I was. It will never happen again.

  ‘Is this our last engagement?’ I'm asking a rhetorical question.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then let's get this over with it,’ I say firmly and confidently, but with a little shiver due to the heat between my legs. It's strange that I can still think straight in this state. Well, almost straight.

  ‘Last time you told me about affection...’

  ‘Never mind.’

  It was easy to say this but for some reason my heart’s still bleeding. It’s OK, all such things pass, and I’ll be fine. It’s probably due to excitement.

  ‘As you say.’

  That is all that he breathes from his lips before the wave of passion hits us.

  The last passion to say goodbye to... But I don't care about it as he pressed my back against the wall, almost knocking me down, and the man's soft lips are entwined with mine in a long-awaited kiss, igniting a fire in my chest and lower abdomen. Without any resistance, I let his tongue into my mouth.

  For the last time...

  His strong hands stroke my curves, lift my dress up and expose my legs, move along the edge of the lace stockings, teasing my body with demanding touches.

  A small drop of desire runs down my inner thigh, moves lower, soaking into the nylon. His hand follows it, tracing a wet path with his thumb.

  ‘Good girl,’ I hear a satisfied smile in his husky voice.

  The man abruptly turns me to the wall, strokes my protruding bottom, and then his fingers moves lower in between my legs. He pulls back the edges of my panties, grabs the chain, and pulls out the balls as I exhale loudly.

  ‘Ah...’ I blurt out involuntarily as his fingers fill the arising void and begin to move rhythmically.

  I will miss it so much...

  No! I shouldn't think that. Not now, and not later. But my mind turns off as his breath falls on my skin, as his caress becomes tough, and his fingers drive me mad from the desire to merge with him into one.

  ‘Will you be obedient to me?’ he whispers in my ear, his voice hoarse. At this point, his fingers stop moving. Heck! I am close to fainting in his arms.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you want him?’ His tongue runs along my neck and back.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Beg me,’ he says firmly, pulling out his fingers.

  His free hand unzips the front of my dress, revealing my boobies. My nipples immediately react to the man’s caress. I feel the goosebumps when his wet fingers barely touch the skin. He lowers the bra cups, and squeezes the hardened nipple.

  My God...

  ‘Please…’

  Damn it, get inside me! Please quench my thirst for your body. My thirst for your hands, for your lips, for your firm palms that make me forget about the cruel world. Let me enjoy you one last time.

  I will suffer later.

  At some point, I feel that he is not around. The cool air forces me to put my arms around my shoulders. I have no choice, I just have to wait, listening to the sounds around me. The rustle behind my back, clinking of his belt buckle...

  And then I feel his hard penis in me.

  ‘Scream!’ He sharply pushes it into me. Only once, but that's enough to spread a tingling wave of desire throughout my body.

  And I scream at the top of my voice, feeling him deep inside me. I scream in pain and pleasure, because of his hard thrusts, and his hands clutching my thighs and breasts. I'll probably see bruises in the mirror the next morning and feel the bliss of pleasure all over my body. Just like last time.

  His hand grabs my throat and pulls me back. The fabric of his shirt touches my back, and the woody notes of his perfume are soaking in my lungs. We merged together. Body to body. His body burns my skin.

  ‘Cum for me.’

  His lips find my bottom one, suck it in, and nibble it. I try to catch the kiss, to outline the lip line of my beloved with my tongue, but he doesn't give me the opportunity. I am screaming loud. Like crazy. I am screaming in his mouth.

  His shoves become more violent, more forceful. Waves of excitement hit us again and again. Up to the peak. Up to the point when we almost simultaneously reach orgasm with a difference of a few seconds.

  ‘Good girl,’ my man says, breathing hoarsely and heavily.

  Oh, that feels so good. At this very moment. Strong hands, that became so dear to me during our relationship, hug my exhausted body, and his lips barely touch my neck, kissing me.

  That feels so good...

  ‘I want more,’ I whisper, gasping for air.

  ‘Aren’t you satisfied?’

  ‘This is our last encounter; I want to get into the full swing.’<
br />
  ‘Will you miss me?’ the man speaks hoarsely, kissing my neck and shoulders. ‘I thought you might want to know who I am.’

  Yes, I want it... No matter how much I deny this, I can't suppress my curiosity. Despite of the flourishing indifference I show, I'm curious to know who did this to me. Who humiliated me and then made me forget about everything during the moments of our unforgettable intimacy.

  Who made me fall in love and gave me unearthly pleasure.

  ‘You won't let me know.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  A surge of excitement rises up in me. Should I tear the mask off my face and turn quickly to look at him? However, I don't think I'm that fast now, after I had one ‘Sex on the beach’ and tough orgasm.

  ‘But on one condition,’ he adds. ‘You will never seek me out again.’

  That sounds rather promising, but a bit risky. On the verge. Am I ready to do this? Am I ready to take this step and promise that I won't look for him again? That I will never blame him or ask him to come back? That I will not call him, hoping for another engagement, leaving messages on the answering machine?

  However, it's a secondary concern to me now. All the questions, doubts, confusion don't really matter. I might be acting flippantly now, but I want to know who he is, I always wanted to. I spent many days searching for him, guessing who he is. I felt a familiar trail and at the same time his aloofness.

  ‘Fine,’ I make a promise, even though I know I can't keep it.

  One motion, and the unusual twilight of the VIP-room appears before my eyes. That's the leather sofa, the small coffee table that I noticed before the surge of our passion. And then I see him.

  Dark eyes burning through me, slightly full, tight lips... The sleeves of his snow-white shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and the tattoo on his left arm, the one I saw in Instagram, is partially visible, his hands are clasped in front of him like club security guards use to do. I notice the scar on his thumb that I first saw in the toilet stall.

  He stands tensely, expecting me to do something, while I...

  I can't say a word. I can’t breathe due to a mix of surprise, resentment and anger that I feel. I can't take my eyes off the man who's been pulling my leg all this time. The man who I considered perfect, handsome... The man I love, even though I shouldn't.

  But he was not that man.

  ‘Are you okay?’ A deep, worried voice comes through the huge thickness of water. It seemed to come from far away.

  I feel cool and relaxed that much that I can’t move my limbs. No way! Why am I on the sofa? Judging by the leather surface under my palms, it must be true. I am far less embarrassed than the man by my side.

  It's him!

  ‘Lolita, wake up!’

  His rapid minty breathing touches my skin. Minty. This is the first time in our lives that we are so close to each other. Without a silk barrier, without any restrictions and rules. I could look at him for eternity, studying every line of his face, the rays of joy in the corners of his eyes, the dark furrowed brows, the pursed lips. Lips that can be soft when we enjoy each other, and rough when he wants to punish me... I would have admired him if it hadn't been for the invisible wall that separated us the moment I saw him. I recognized him...

  ‘You...’ It is the last word that comes out of my mouth before I fall into darkness.

  Chapter 29.

  Two years ago…

  The day didn't start well. I was prepared for failure; I had no idea that it would be so painful and hurting. As I woke up and stretched out on the bed, I felt a pleasant ache in my body, which immediately hit right into my heart. I had finished my breakfast and started preparing for the party when a short message came:

  Sean: ‘Good bye. It's a pity you didn't come out to see me off.’

  Why mention this if you perfectly understood the reasons for my absence? That's odd, Shawn, that you don't realize that thinking about last night still hurts me. Our last night together I’m reminded of by this damned sweet bliss, seasoned with the bitterness of your departure.

  The next shock I faced at the cemetery – the yesterday's flowers I left on my parents' grave had been stolen. But that's all rubbish. The real shock came in the late afternoon, when the whole family was supposed to gather around the table and eat my mother's signature turkey, but...

  Our family had gone.

  It collapsed a year ago, when they told us that our parents passed away. Adam disappeared somewhere day and night recently, and I felt lonely in the huge house. That feeling disappeared when Sean or Andrew were around, but not for long. As soon as I stepped across the threshold of the house, everything reminded me of the tragedy.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I ask my brother as he goes downstairs, casually putting on his cap.

  ‘What are you talking about? I’m going to have fun. Guys have a party today.’

  ‘Today is the first year since the death of our parents. You promised that...’

  ‘Look,’ Adam says, holding up his hand to silence me, ‘I don't want to spend the night whining like a girl. It hurts, and you make things even worse. Let's not do this, okay?’

  ‘But I’m cooking a turkey!’

  ‘I. Don’t. Want. Got it?’ my brother says, irritably. ‘Guys are waiting for me.’

  And he slams the door in my face. Recently, he often gets angry, he has a quick temper, but this is the last straw. It makes me angry, and I suddenly realize that I am absolutely alone.

  Snowflakes are swirling around our neighborhood, and the wind is blowing heavily behind the window. When I go out to the garage to get my mom's signature seasoning in a jar, the gush of chilly wind penetrates through the thick sweater. But that doesn't really matter. It's just cold. Memories are more painful than reality.

  A year ago, I was standing on this very spot, spinning in my father's arms, surrounded by my mother's care. They had no idea what was about to happen when they left for the store.

  A tear drops on the floor. The second one. The third one. I miss you so much. So much...

  Despite this, I do my best to cook a turkey as my mother taught me. Adam doesn't want to join me, but Andrew will come for sure, if he doesn't stay at home with his parents, of course. But I can't reach him. He doesn't pick up the phone, and he is offline in the networks. Heck! I knew this day was full of shit! Even the stupid turkey plays tricks on me. It slips out of my hands, and I can't properly tie the wings and legs.

  ‘Fuck! What the hell!’ Unable to fight the chicken any longer, I throw the knife at the wall, but the blade doesn't get stuck like they show in the movies. It falls to the floor next to my sedatives and unpacked bandages. I took the medicine to fall asleep after the farewell night, but it didn't help much. As for the bandages, I tried to tie up the finger I cut while slicing bread. I didn't find a patch at home, and I had to remove the bandage as I started cooking.

  Why did fate decide to flood me with trouble today? Why not yesterday? Not tomorrow? Not the day after tomorrow? Why did the troubles come all at once, and not gradually? What have I done to deserve this? What?

  A knock on the door interrupted my sad thoughts. I even give a start of surprise. Did Andrew see my message? Only, it wasn't him, but a ghost from the past.

  I saw a tall man in a hat, wrapped in a fitted black coat. The tall figure stands frozen in the doorway, as the glittering snowflakes are melting on his black shoulders, and hands in leather gloves are locked in front of him. He is not in a hurry to say hello, to take a step forward or show some emotions on his poker face. Instead, he stares at my tear-stained eyes and reddened nose. Yes, I don't look so good today.

  ‘Good evening,’ I say, breaking the silence.

  ‘Hello, Dolores. May I come in?’

  ‘Of course,’ I say, stepping aside and letting the man in.

  He carefully steps into the house, looking around with his dark eyes, as if he can smell danger coming from every corner. I stand behind him, wondering why he came here a year later.

&nbs
p; ‘What's that?’ he asks in a stern voice, just like...

  Just like my Dad when I did something wrong as a child.

  The man frowns and stares at the kitchen floor. His eyes are focused on the spot where the knife, the sedatives, and bandages are scattered in a mess. Oops! It takes me a while to figure out what it looks like from the outside. I get it only after he looks me up and down with a stern gaze, lingering on my hands and on my face.

  ‘It's not what you think,’ I blurt out the urgent excuse. Why am I doing this? Why should I explain myself to the stranger?

  ‘I see,’ he says, looking at the mess in the kitchen skeptically. ‘Getting ready for Christmas?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Where is Adam?’

  A twinge of pain shoots through my chest as I realize that I will most likely spend this Christmas eve alone.

  ‘He's gone to a friend's place.’

  ‘You don’t like it, do you?’

  Bingo, you hit the bull's-eye! Is he reading my mind? Or maybe all my emotions are written all over my face?

  ‘I guess you are right,’ I shrug. ‘Did you come to see him?’

  ‘Well, almost. I wanted to check on you before I left.’

  I wonder why. He hasn't visited us since our parents died. And I don’t think I saw him at the funeral. Why do we warrant this... largesse?

  ‘Why?’

  I feel anger spreading inside, enveloping every cell because of the feeling that this person has for our family. Pity. And I hate being pitied without any decent reason. Just for show.

  ‘I want to ensure that you are doing well.’

  ‘Look,’ I say, interrupting him too harshly. ‘We've managed without your help for a year, so your presence here is unnecessary!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ He pulls the leather gloves off his hands, throws them on the counter next to the half-tied turkey, and moves toward me.

  There's nowhere to run, my back is pressed against the desk, and the man steps forward, closing the distance between us. Heck! He's a complete stranger. An alien! What if he strangles me and buries my corpse in the woods? Then why did he take off his gloves? His fingerprints will be everywhere! I closed my eyes in fear, pretending like this isn't happening. It's not true. It's a parallel universe.