This was simply sex.
The warning voice insisted that she could still say something and stop him. A strangled cry with the word ‘no’ would be sufficient. Robyn ignored the warning voice. She pushed herself against him, wishing he wasn’t so easily able to squirm away from the demanding lips of her sex.
‘You want this, don’t you?’ He drew the head of his cock along her pussy lips.
Her cry of assent was like a desperate and wordless plea.
‘Beg me.’
Robyn caught a gasp in her throat and bit her bottom lip hard. ‘You bastard.’
He pulled hard on her hair. The tip of his cock pressed on the hood of her clit. The pressure was hard and urgent. ‘Don’t flatter me,’ he growled. ‘Just beg.’
‘Please, Yale,’ she roared. ‘Please fuck me. FUCK ME! I’m begging you.’
With a soft, wicked laugh, he began to push his cock forward. ‘If you insist,’ he whispered calmly. ‘Then I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you for the rest of the day if that’s what you want.’
The unexpected noise startled both of them. It was the solid boom of someone thumping at the house’s main door.
Robyn glanced back over her shoulder and saw that Yale was also staring out of the kitchen, towards the hall where the sound had come from. He didn’t see the frightened glint in her eyes and she felt thankful for that much. As soon as she heard the noise one thought struck her: the person knocking on the door was Harold.
The idea terrified her and left her cold and racked with guilt.
‘Is it your models?’ she asked quickly, praying he would say yes.
‘They shouldn’t be back for hours yet,’ he said. ‘Bernice wanted to find a chemist for Christian and they were travelling on foot.’
Robyn’s stomach folded. The thought of Harold catching her like this was too unsettling to contemplate. If she had done as she intended with Yale she might have been able to evade any of his questions about her fidelity. With time to rationalise things she might have been able to lessen the event in her own mind and convince herself it wasn’t an act of betrayal. But if he was standing outside the door her chances of keeping the truth from him no longer existed.
Once again an unseen fist thumped the great door. Its echo rang heavily throughout Holbert Manor. The noise was enough to stop Robyn’s half-formed thoughts before they could reach any miserable conclusion.
‘You’d better go and answer that.’ Yale released his hand from her hair and guided the head of his cock away from her pussy lips. ‘Whoever it is, they don’t sound like they’re going to go away.’
She straightened herself and nodded. As she stepped out of the kitchen, he called after her.
‘You might want to check the way you’re dressed before you answer the door.’
She glanced down and saw that she had come close to opening the door in a state of obvious disarray. If she had opened it and found Harold there, she would have had no way of keeping her activities a secret.
Her blouse was torn open and one breast hung free from her bra. She could even see the wet memory of Yale’s saliva glistening on the nipple. Aside from the blouse, her skirt was still bunched up, revealing her pulled-down pants and exposed sex. The idea that she had come so close to opening the door in such a state of undress left Robyn shivering nervously. She turned away from the door and began to pull her pants back up and straighten the rest of her clothes. Movement in the corner of her eye made her start. She glanced up and saw that Amelia was standing beside the door.
A knowing smile twisted Amelia’s lips.
‘Have you been listening to us?’ Robyn demanded.
‘Listening to the virtuous Miss Innocent?’ Her grin was a vindictive smirk. ‘How could I listen to you? There was nothing going on, was there? What would there be for me to hear? You’re practically a virgin from the sounds of things.’
‘You nasty little bitch,’ Robyn snapped.
Amelia stepped back. Her grin inched wider.
The front door rocked again as their visitor banged harder than before. The brunette wore a triumphant smile that infuriated Robyn.
‘You’d better answer that,’ Amelia suggested. ‘They sound as though they’re ready to break the door down.’
Robyn fixed the woman with an angry glare. There was little she could do about the torn blouse but she took care of that by unfastening it completely and making it look as though she had dressed in a casual manner. With her pants properly on and her skirt straightened, she felt prepared to face whoever stood at the front door.
Even if it was Harold.
The thought made her stomach tighten with apprehension. Nevertheless, knowing she had to answer the door, Robyn struggled with the ancient lock and then threw it open.
Dominic stood on the top step. A broad smile split his lips.
‘Robyn, darling,’ he cried. ‘I drove all night to come and see you.’
‘Dominic?’ she gasped. He was the last person she had expected to see.
It was a relief that he wasn’t Harold. She felt touched by a fresh pang of guilt as she realised how close she had come to disobeying her husband’s explicit command. The thought that she had almost given in to her body’s demands left her cold and weak with disbelief. Knowing that she had been mere millimetres away from accepting Yale’s length inside her, Robyn felt a shiver tremble through her body.
Determinedly, she vowed that she wouldn’t succumb to such temptation ever again. If she wanted to save her marriage then she had to remain monogamous, regardless of whether she wanted that or not. The resolution fixed firmly in her mind, she addressed Dominic.
‘What the hell brings you out here, to the middle of nowhere?’
He smiled lewdly, his gaze flitting over the sight of her open blouse. ‘I’ve come up here to bring you a present.’
Robyn was intrigued. ‘What present?’
He reached into his jacket pocket and fumbled around for a moment. When he brought his hand out his fist was wrapped tightly around the gift.
Perplexed, Robyn held her hand out and allowed him to drop the present into her open palm. She stared down at it and felt the return of every one of the fears the she had just believed were vanquished. In the centre of her palm, Dominic had dropped a tightly packaged black condom.
The broad smile on his lips told her that he was determined to use it.
Chapter Seven
‘What the hell do you mean you can’t find them?’
Sheridan was furious. She glared across the table, unmindful of curious stares. The exclusive restaurant was surprisingly busy for such an early hour in the evening. It was barely half past six but already there were enough diners to give the room a crowded feel. Sheridan had turned heads as she walked into the restaurant that evening. Her ensemble – vibrant pink mini-skirt and matching T-shirt – was set off by complementary heels and stockings. The outfit displayed every curve of her figure. Her nipples pushed at the light fabric of the T-shirt, the taut nubs distorting the cloth. As always, her hair was a shock of magnificent red and blue streaks, almost peacock-like in its magnificence.
‘You lied to me, you toad!’ she screeched, making no attempt to mute her outburst. ‘You lied to me so I’d suck your cock. Is this how you repay me?’
Shocked murmurs rippled around the restaurant. The head waiter came rushing to the table, a perplexed expression creasing his haggard face. Harold waved a hand at the man, trying to dismiss him before the real fireworks could begin. He was blushing hotly and at a less crucial moment Sheridan would have drawn a wealth of pleasure from his misery. But right now she couldn’t care less. It didn’t matter that he was being embarrassed in front of his peers, or that he would never dare to dine in this restaurant again. She needed to make him aware of her unhappiness.
‘I tried to find the bloody paperwork,’ Harold complained. ‘Robyn must have filed it somewhere. It’s probably in her office. I’ll look into it first thing tomorrow morning. I promise.’
‘And what the fuck is wrong with looking into it now?’
Harold rubbed a hand over his eyes. The tips of his fingers massaged the centre of his brow, as though he was trying to clear a particularly bad headache.
‘I’m not going back to the office now,’ he said flatly. ‘I’ll look tomorrow.’
‘Is that what you tell all the girls, once they’ve blown you?’
‘I must ask you to have a word with your guest,’ the head waiter interrupted.
Harold glanced wearily up at the man. ‘Have a word with her?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘I’d be lucky to get a word in edgeways.’
‘When I mentioned her inappropriate attire, you assured me that she would behave herself in an exemplary manner,’ the head waiter insisted. He spoke as though Sheridan was deaf, or unfamiliar with their language. ‘You’re a good client, but I have other good clients whom I have to look after.’
Harold was nodding reluctant agreement. ‘I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused. I’ll do my best to make recompense.’
Nodding, assured of a substantial tip, the head waiter took a step back.
‘That’s it,’ Sheridan hissed. ‘I’m leaving.’
‘But we were going to have dinner.’
‘I’m leaving,’ Sheridan said firmly. She stood up and glared angrily at him. She knew she was pushing him further than was safe but having Holbert Manor meant everything to her. She had to get her hands on the property, regardless of the cost. If that meant pushing Harold too far and upsetting a handful of overfed diners in a snooty restaurant, she figured it was a small price to pay.
She thrust her chair back and glared down at him.
‘There’s really no need for this,’ Harold began plaintively. ‘If we could just sit down and talk for –’
‘Good night, Harold,’ Sheridan broke in sharply. ‘Perhaps we can talk again when you have something to offer me other than a feeble excuse and a weak apology.’ Without waiting for his reply, she stormed towards the restaurant door. She glanced back over her shoulder before leaving, half expecting Harold to be out of his chair and following her.
He still sat at their table, talking to the head waiter and using the contents of his wallet to appease the man. Harold cast a glance in her direction and their eyes met briefly.
She quickly snatched her glance away.
In the cool evening air outside the restaurant she took a deep breath and tried to calm her anger long enough to plan her next move. She didn’t seriously believe he had just lied to get a blowjob. The man was too sincere for that sort of duplicity. However, if she didn’t get her hands on Holbert Manor soon, Sheridan knew that her chances of getting the property would start diminishing. He would become complacent and try palming her off with a bracelet or some other worthless trinket.
Still fuming at his ineptitude, Sheridan hailed a cab and demanded it take her back to the office. She ignored the driver’s game attempts at conversation, glowering fitfully at the back of his head as he drove them through the busy streets. Her thoughts were clouded by such a raging anger that Sheridan didn’t trust herself to speak.
She felt the same when she marched into the office. Her stilettos struck sparks from the polished marble floor. The security guard didn’t trouble her for ID and she guessed that was partly due to the threatening expression on her face. She supposed that with such a distinctive style of dress she was already something of a legend in the building. Her hair and clothes identified her far better than any security pass she could have carried.
But she also knew her legendary temper would be enough to deter security from asking for ID.
The security man was engaged in conversation with a young man whom she vaguely recognised. The young man was trying to look calm and confident but there was a nervousness to his disposition that was clearly apparent, even across the reception hall. He held a BlackBerry in one hand and thumbed the keypad tensely as he stepped from foot to foot. To Sheridan’s well-trained eye he looked like a nervous teenager on his first date. It was only when he glanced at her and their eyes met that she realised it was Wayne.
The recognition touched them both simultaneously.
With a frown of annoyance, Sheridan watched Wayne begin to walk towards her. She nodded a curt greeting and said, ‘Wayne,’ acknowledging him and dismissing him at the same time.
But he seemed to want more than a simple nod. Rushing towards her, he grinned and said, ‘Are you doing some overtime?’
Sheridan ignored him and stepped into the lift. She slammed her fist against the appropriate button and watched the doors begin to slide shut.
He placed a foot in the way of the closing doors and grinned eagerly.
‘My knees still hurt from this morning in the car park,’ he said. ‘And I’ve got bruises in so many places.’
‘You’ll have a couple more if you don’t move your fucking foot.’
He treated the comment as though it was a joke. ‘You said we might be able to do that again if I kept quiet,’ he began salaciously. ‘I’ve spent the day being quiet. What are you doing tonight?’
She felt her upper lip curl with distaste. She hadn’t said they could do it again if he kept quiet. What she had told him, she remembered, was that they wouldn’t do it again if he told anyone. There was a world of difference between the two statements but he was too thick-headed to see it.
‘I have business to attend to tonight,’ she began. She reached for his tie and tugged him into the lift. ‘But I could use a brief distraction,’ she added, before placing her mouth over his. The lift doors slid shut and the elevator started its ascent. With a casual hand, she reached behind him and pressed the stop button.
He stared at her, a slightly alarmed expression straining his features. ‘That might not be very discreet,’ he began hesitantly. ‘If the lift remains stopped for more than three minutes, the security guard tells me, an alarm comes on.’
She grinned, wrapping her fingers in his hair. ‘Then the count has already begun,’ she told him. ‘You have three minutes to please me.’ Pushing his head firmly down, she guided his mouth to her crotch.
His eager fingers lifted her skirt and then tugged her panties aside.
Sheridan leant back against the lift wall, smiling broadly as his tongue touched the dark wetness of her sex. He had proved himself adequate that morning and she was happy to exploit his talents.
Perhaps, she thought absently, his tongue might help to calm the raging anger that stormed inside her.
‘You’re pulling my hair,’ he complained, moving his lips away from her sex.
She pulled harder, enjoying his grimace of discomfort.
‘I’ll tear clumps out of your fucking head if you don’t get your mouth back to my hole,’ she threatened. Glancing at her watch, she said, ‘You have just over two minutes to make me come. Fail, and I’ll have your bollocks for earrings.’
He returned his mouth to her pussy and lapped her intensely. Sheridan groaned as he ran his tongue over the shaved lips. She felt him enter her and she writhed against him. His fingers were brushing gently against her labia and she wondered if he was trying to penetrate her while he used his tongue. She had allowed him the privilege of having his cock between her legs that morning but she didn’t think he would have time to satisfy her in the same way right now. If he was hoping to push her beyond the point by sliding a finger into her warmth, she doubted he would be able to manage it in the short time they had left.
Instead of penetrating her, Wayne used the fingers to pull her lips apart. He held the hood of her clit back and pressed the tip of his tongue firmly against the pulsing nub he found beneath.
Sheridan drew a sharp breath. Her body stiffened and she felt the first prickle of pleasure. For a moment she wondered if she had underestimated him, then smiled at the thought. It was impossible to underestimate a man like Wayne. He was just an erection and a good tongue that needed to be used.
‘More, you pathetic little shit
,’ she snapped. ‘I want more.’
His tongue worked faster, inspiring waves of enjoyment that began in the pulsing tip of her clitoris then spread throughout her body like ripples on a pond. Her breathing deepened and she realised she was close to orgasm. Her pussy was sodden with a combination of excitement and his saliva. Her sex felt hot and disturbingly close to climax. She tightened her fingers in his hair and pulled him hard against her.
He made a growl of protest and pushed his tongue all the way along her labia. The slippery friction against her intimate flesh took Sheridan beyond the threshold of pleasure. She moaned as the small tremor of delight washed over her.
‘How was that?’
She glanced down and saw him staring expectantly up at her. His lips and lower jaw were coated with her juices and his white shirt was speckled with a spray of her musk.
‘That was adequate,’ Sheridan allowed. She tugged her fingers from his hair.
He grunted wordless annoyance at the small praise. Climbing awkwardly from the floor, he asked, ‘Do you still fancy that date tonight?’
Sheridan pressed the lift button, sending them back towards the ground floor. ‘There’s no need for us to have a date tonight, is there?’ she asked innocently. ‘I’ve just had an orgasm. What else can you offer me?’
He stared at her, his mouth agape. The lift’s bell rang and the doors slid open behind him. She placed her fingers beneath his jaw and pressed his mouth closed.
‘Keep that shut or we’ll never play again,’ she reminded him. She pushed his chest gently, making him step back out of the lift. Slamming her fist against the button, she watched the doors close on him.
‘Wait!’ he called. ‘If you’re going up to the office, could you ask –’
She stared blankly at him as the doors cut him off. If she had been forced to look at his pathetic expression a moment longer Sheridan believed she would have lost her patience. With someone like Wayne, she knew she could extract a lot of pleasure from making him suffer. It was only because she still had a reputation to maintain in the offices of Art that she avoided having a confrontation with him.
Beyond Temptation Page 16