She gasped, as she felt him slide his fingers out of her. She could feel him breathing right in her ear and listened to the sound of him licking each finger slowly.
“I’ve missed your taste,” he whispered in her ear.
Sasha gripped the countertop so hard her fingers turned white. “Fuck me,” she demanded. “Fuck me now.”
“You want me inside of you?”
“Yes,” Sasha whispered. “Do it. I can’t wait.”
Hardly a second passed before she heard the familiar sound of a condom being removed from its wrapper and slid down his shaft. She tried to turn, but Thomas stopped her.
“I want to touch it,” she said.
“No,” he said. He nudged her legs apart with his foot then bent her forward, right over the fridge and work surface so that her posterior was angled upwards. He pulled her thong down to her ankles. “We’re doing this my way.”
Then he thrust his way inside of her dripping wet vagina.
The pleasure hit Sasha like a breaking wave. She cried out as the first thrust slammed her forward and made the fridge rock backwards. Thomas wasn’t planning on taking this slow or gently. He moved hard and fast, his hands on her hip bones to get a better grip, each thrust matched with a grunt. The fridge juddered back and forth each time his body slammed into hers, making the glasses tinkle against one another and the wine inside of them slosh.
“Fuck!” Sasha cried, as the intense new sensation gripped her. Thomas was fucking her so hard her breasts were bouncing. Her hair fell forward into the wine glasses.
Somehow Thomas pushed harder and harder. It was as though he was trying to bore his way right through her. Sasha felt a frenzied kind of pleasure, almost a delirium, a desperation. This wasn’t the delayed gratification Thomas had taught her, this was a desperate need to orgasm as hard and fast as possible. He needed to come inside of her, and she wanted to take him there.
She pushed back, matching each one of his thrusts with her own opposite force. She felt him harden even more inside of her and could tell he was close. She was close too and knew that all she had to do now was press her clitoris to climax. But she had to get Thomas there first. His breath was coming in fast pants. He sounded like he was in the middle of an intense workout.
She squeezed her pelvic floor muscles to make herself as tight as she possibly could. Thomas responded with a cry like nothing she’d ever heard from him. Then, there was a moment of silence that she recognized as the split second before the orgasm hit.
Thomas roared and pushed into her so deeply the wine glasses toppled over. Wine gushed over the fridge top and onto the cream carpet, splashing Sasha’s feet and soaking into her discarded thong. His cock began throbbing as he came. Sasha pressed her clit to make her own orgasm begin, and together, they moved in perfect harmony, riding the waves of their mutual orgasm.
Then, with one strong thrust, two, three, he was done.
Everything went still and silent. Thomas stayed behind her, inside of her, panting heavily. Then she saw him right the two wine glasses in front of them, pick up the wine bottle, and pour two new drinks. He slid out of her, zipped his fly, and left the room.
Sasha stood there panting, her legs still spread, her ass exposed, her body still positioned for penetration. She pulled up her thong, smoothed down her skirt, and stood straight. As she took the wine glasses over to the table, she couldn’t help but feel as though she and Thomas had regressed. They’d returned to the sex they’d had before, to the type where she wasn’t allowed to see him naked, where he would fuck her from behind fully dressed in his suit, keeping it as impersonal as possible. This had been the old Thomas Lloyd fucking her, not the man she loved.
Thomas came back into the main part of the plane and settled himself in his seat. He picked up the wine glass.
“Cheers,” he said, as though nothing had happened.
Feeling dazed and confused, Sasha clinked her glass against his. “Cheers.”
Chapter Thirty One
Aunty Mabel’s house was a stunning, old English manor house. There was a moat and a drawbridge and a whole orchard of apple trees. Even the drizzle couldn’t detract from the beauty of the place.
“Thomas, it’s amazing,” Sasha said.
He smiled. “Olivia and I used to come here during the summer when we were children.”
The rest of the plane journey had been uneventful. They’d gotten a little drunk but neither mentioned the intense sexual encounter they’d just had and what it meant for them now. During the drive to Oxfordshire, Thomas acted like nothing had happened at all. Like the actor he was famed for being, he was able to switch easily from one persona to the next. Right now, he was being the genteel English gentleman, showing guests around his estate. Looking at him, no one would ever guess that mere hours earlier he’d had Sasha bent over a fridge as he fucked her hard from behind.
Julia, at the very least, seemed content. She glanced around awestruck, as she was wheeled up the path by Gerald.
Thomas led them all up to the huge oak door. The doorbell was a pull chord that set off a series of tinkles inside the house.
As the door creaked open, Sasha was half expecting to see a waiter in a suit standing there. Instead, she was confronted by the sight of Crystal Carpenter. Something tightened in her chest as she recalled the previous times she’d come face-to-face with Thomas’s porn star sister. But instead of the vile, wasted woman she’d been confronted with before, this one beamed and cried, “Tommy!”
Crystal bounded down the steps and threw her arms around her brother, her bleach blonde hair cascading over his shoulders. He was too shocked to reciprocate the gesture and stood with his arms limply hanging by his side.
“Crystal?” he said.
She pulled away and looked at him brightly. “Not Crystal anymore. I’m using Olivia again.” She looked up to the sky, as though plucking something from her memory. “Crystal was a persona my addiction invented to repress the…guilt and shame I was feeling.” She spoke as though reciting. It was clearly something she’d picked up in rehab. Once she was finished, she looked back down and beamed like a child.
Thomas looked at Sasha and raised his eyebrows. “So rehab…?”
The woman waved a dismissive hand. “Waste of time. I just needed a juice cleanse, a lifestyle guru, daily yoga, and a healer to align my chakras.” She grabbed Thomas’s hand. “I thought I’d missed you. Where have you been?”
“I just went to fetch Sasha.”
“Sasha, of course!” Crystal cried. “We’ve met before.” She hugged her. This time she smelled of incense instead of whisky. “It’s nice to meet you sober.”
Sasha was stunned. The transformation in Crystal was mind-boggling. She could hardly bring herself to think of the woman as Olivia.
Thomas introduced his younger sister to Gerald and Julia. They exchanged cheek kisses and pleasantries. There was nothing about Crystal, now Olivia, which would make someone think she’d been a drug-addicted porn star a matter of weeks ago.
“Come on!” she cried with excitement. “Aunty Mabel’s made scones.”
As Thomas was dragged inside by his supposedly reformed sister, Sasha had a feeling that the trip to England wasn’t going to be as idyllic as she’d originally thought.
Chapter Thirty Two
The guests were introduced to Aunty Mabel—a rotund woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a pearl necklace—and Nina, the maid. Oh, and a bloodhound, Gertrude. Then Nina showed each guest to the room they’d be staying in. Last of all, she guided Sasha to hers. It was a beautiful room that was filled with dark wood and green drapery. There was an amazing view across the grounds. Aunty Mabel’s house was almost more decadent than Thomas’s glass-fronted mansion.
“Thank you, Nina,” Sasha said as the young woman placed her bags in the room and left.
“Dinner will be served in half an hour,” Nina said. “Just come down when you’re ready.”
Sasha decided to freshen up. She still
had wine on her feet from when Thomas has spilled it while fucking her. She went into the en suite and washed, feeling happy and rejuvenated for the first time in a long time. She dressed in a daring black leather mini-dress, one of the one’s Amore had given to her. She knew how much it had turned Thomas on when he’d seen her in all those sheer tops and black leather.
She looked for a hair dryer and found it in one of the drawers. However, her hand hovered over it. Then, she shut the drawer again. Thomas had a wet hair fetish. When they’d been on the island together, the sight of her wet body emerging from a swimming pool had turned him on so much he hadn’t been able to resist her. It would serve him right for pretending like nothing had happened between them on the plane...
She smiled to herself and skipped from her room. The stairs were wide and sweeping, like something from a movie. She found the dining room and saw that her mom and Aunty Mabel were already seated, chatting away with Olivia—who was sat on her knees in front of a roaring fire, stroking Gertrude, the bloodhound. Sasha realized it was the first time in a long time she’d see her mom looking so relaxed and carefree. This trip would do them both good.
Thomas came into the dining room. He took one look at Sasha, then his eyes blazed with desire.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” he whispered in her ear, his fingers lightly pressing the small of her back.
“Doing what?” Sasha asked innocently. “You mean my wet hair? I just couldn’t find a hair dryer.”
“A likely story,” Thomas said with a twitch of a smile on his lips. Then, under his breath, he whispered, “Game on, intern.”
Sasha bit her lip as a thrill of anticipation pulsed through her.
Thomas held a chair for each of the women, placing Sasha directly opposite him. Before he had a chance to make the first move, she slipped her shoe off and rubbed her foot slowly up the inside of his leg. She saw Thomas shift in his seat, but otherwise, he made no external indication that he was being aroused by a game of footsie beneath the tablecloth.
Nina came in from the kitchen with a huge silver bowl filled with tomato soup, which she placed in the center before ladling some into each of the bowls. Sasha thanked her and began to eat.
She took her first sip of the soup, her eyes locking on Thomas as she did so. Still looking at Thomas, she licked the back of the spoon slowly. His jaw clenched.
“This is divine, Aunty Mabel,” Olivia said.
“Hmm,” Sasha replied. “It really is. What do you think Thomas?”
She slid her foot up to his lap and rested it on his cock, finding that it was hard beneath her foot. She rubbed her foot up and down, feeling Thomas strain beneath her.
Thomas’s eyes flashed with mischief. “It’s a touch hot if you ask me.”
Aunty Mabel looked up. “You are a little red in the face. Maybe Nina put in more chilly than normal.”
Sasha narrowed her eyes and pressed her foot down. Thomas bit his bottom lip.
“Leave it if you don’t like it,” Aunty Mabel said. “There’s plenty more you can eat.”
“Perhaps I will,” Thomas said.
He pushed his bowl away but deliberately too hard. The contents spewed across the tabletop towards Sasha. She leaped up just in time.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” Thomas said. “You’ll have to come and sit on the corner here next to me.”
Sasha caught the glint in his eye, as she moved her chair around. The moment she sat down, he reached his hand under her skirt and slid his fingers inside of her. Sasha’s eyes widened with surprise and she gasped.
“Did you get a chili, too, dear?” Aunty Mabel said.
“Uh huh,” Sasha replied breathlessly.
Nina mopped up the mess with help from Gertrude, then the next course was served.
Just then, Thomas dropped his spoon.
“Honestly,” Aunty Mabel said, “what is wrong with you today?”
“All thumbs and no fingers. Excuse me.”
Thomas ducked down under the table to retrieve it. But while down there, he pushed Sasha’s legs apart, moved her thong to the side, and licked her clit. She let out a shocked cry.
“Sorry,” Sasha said. “Thomas must have squashed my foot.”
Thomas came back up from the table. The spoon remained out of sight, and Sasha realized with mounting excitement that he was going to use it to pleasure her…
However, he didn’t get the chance because Olivia suddenly said, “Tommy, I think we need to talk.”
Sasha found it hard to think of the woman as Olivia rather than Crystal. She still had the same peroxide blond hair, but the ruby red fingernails were gone, along with the thick mascara. Instead of a push-up bra and a leopard-print dress, she was in gray jogging bottoms with a loose-fitting top. She’d pulled her hair into a messy bun. Her eyes sparkled with rejuvenation and health.
“Maxwell says I have to be honest if I want to heal,” she added.
Aunty Mabel tipped her head to the side. “Maxwell?”
“My spiritual guide,” Olivia explained.
“Oh, right,” the old woman replied with a chuckle before going back to her food.
Sasha got the distinct impression that Aunty Mabel wouldn’t be shocked by anything her niece and nephew threw at her.
Thomas looked up at Olivia with a guarded expression; the spoon he intended to pleasure Sasha with was pressed lightly to his lips as a reminder of what was yet to come.
“Must we talk right now?” he said. “We have guests.”
“It affects them, too,” she replied.
Thomas put his spoon down and cleared his throat. “Fine. What is it you have to say?”
“The tape,” Olivia said.
Out the corner of her eye, Sasha could see Thomas’s hands squeeze into fists. Julia, Aunty Mabel, and Gerald all focused intently on their food.
“I know you have no reason to believe me,” Olivia added, “since I’ve lied to you in the past, but I wasn’t the one who leaked it.”
Thomas and Sasha exchanged a glance.
“It couldn’t have been anyone else,” Thomas replied.
Olivia gave him a look as if to say, ‘Who else has access to all your properties?’
“You mean…?” Thomas began.
“...Pippa?” Sasha finished for him.
Thomas slammed his fist against the tabletop, making the cutlery and glasses jangle.
“Now, now,” Aunty Mabel chuckled. She was clearly more than used to Thomas’s passionate outbursts.
“Pippa was the mastermind behind everything,” Olivia said. “All I had to do was follow you around and give her the tapes every time you took a woman home. She paid me to keep tabs on you—just enough to support my habit. I got extra when I gave her a tape, which I didn’t for bloody ages, by the way, because you never took anyone home.”
Sasha felt a little swell of pride when she said that. She knew she’d been the first to see Thomas naked, but she didn’t realize she’d also been one of the few lucky women whom he took to his home.
Thomas didn’t look so pleased. “And tell me what you thought she was going to do with the tapes once you gave them to her?”
“I didn’t know, and I didn’t ask,” Olivia replied.
“It didn’t concern you that she was filming me in…”—he glanced at Aunty Mabel, who was doing her best to pretend not to be interested—“...intimate moments?”
“I didn’t care,” Olivia said. “I only cared about using the money for my next fix. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.”
Thomas glanced at Sasha. “If Pippa was the one who leaked the tape, we could press charges.”
Sasha had thought it, too. “But what about the injunction? How do we press charges against her without accidentally breaking the gag order?”
“By getting a bloody good lawyer,” Aunty Mabel said.
Everyone looked at her.
“My husband had a firm,” she explained to the guests. “This was before he passed away in a ter
rible boating accident. Anyway, the company still exists, and they simply adore us Lloyds. I could give you the number of this feisty woman, Carla. I think she’s Italian.”
Sasha looked from Aunty Mabel to Thomas.
“It’s your call,” he said.
Sasha nodded. She wanted to see Pippa punished for what she’d done.
Aunty Mabel clapped her hands. “Oh wonderful! I do love a good court case.”
***
Up in her room that evening, Sasha heard the door to her bedroom click open. She looked over her shoulder. Thomas was standing in the doorway, illuminated by the hallway light. As he paced in, something in his hand glinted in the moonlight.
“I believe we have some unfinished business,” he said.
Sasha realized he was holding the spoon. She sat up, exposing her breasts to him, milky white in the moonlight. She felt her body swelling with anticipation as Thomas removed his clothes and stood fully naked before her, his muscular physique illuminated.
He tore back the covers. “Time to put this feud to bed, intern.”
She reached up and pulled him down. “Don’t call me that.”
Chapter Thirty Three
Thomas and Sasha spent the night re-exploring one another’s bodies, and this time, Sasha made sure that when they came, they were looking each other in the eye.
She woke up feeling content and satisfied. Sasha turned in the bed to find Thomas beside her, sleeping. He looked so beautiful when he was asleep.
Despite the cold day, the sun was shining. From somewhere outside she could hear Gertrude barking and Olivia calling to her. She went over to the window. Her mom was sitting in her wheelchair on the porch, a checkered blanket draped over her knees. She was watching Olivia as she chased the dog about the lawn. Beside her was a picnic table with coffee, orange juice, croissants, and fruit. Sasha was overjoyed to see her mom finally getting the relaxing life she’s always deserved.
Sasha picked her cell up from the bedside table. She’d received a message overnight. It was from Chris. It read: Sasha, I’m so sorry. I would never have done it if I’d known it would come to this.
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