I was making all manner of sensual sounds that no amount of kissing could quieten. I think he'd given up trying, but he hadn't given up on anything else. The hand that had slid down my thigh pressed between us, and his thumb found my clit and began to rub. Each sweep timed to match the thrust of his cock inside and the suck of his mouth on my tongue.
Pulsing started up at every location he touched and sucked and thrust into. My body felt like a quivering, combustible mass. From head to toe I was his. To command. To direct. To control.
I whimpered, letting him know I was desperate, unable to say a word, too lost to the sensations to think clearly, and kissing him back just as hard as he kissed me.
"Now, red," he murmured into my mouth, pressed his thumb firmly against my nub and shifted his hips to change the angle of his thrusts.
I came apart with exquisite ease. A coiled spring unwinding in a shatteringly fast explosion of bliss. I arched beneath him, felt his shudder above me as my nerves pinged around my body, firing shots of electricity everywhere. I cried out his name as the orgasm slammed into me and heard him growl and then pick up pace with his hips.
One. Two. Three thrusts. His breath left him in a rush of air and a delightfully erotic sounding groan. And then I felt his release fill me, coat me inside.
Sweat clung to our bodies as we lay tangled together beneath the sheets and let the world coalesce around us slowly, bringing us down from that high.
God, he was good at this. I would never get enough.
"Red," I heard him say, his deep, rough voice sounding loud all of a sudden. "Red. Jesus, red. Wake up!"
No. No, no, no, no, no.
His hands at my shoulders shaking me, his breath washing over my face as he repeated his instructions for me to wake up.
Oh shit no.
Or maybe, this was a good thing. Yeah, I was going to go with that. Because there were cameras in this room, and having amazing, mind-blowing sex on film was not a stellar idea. Perhaps a vivid dream of Ben fucking me was better than the reality I had craved.
I groaned aloud in frustration and disbelief. I could tell myself that, but I still wanted the real thing. I'd had it now, I knew how good it could be. Hell, reality had invaded my fantasies, because the faceless man, who had smelled like Ben in my dreams, now looked like and sounded like him too.
I couldn't help it, a smile graced my lips. It was probably a little rueful, but at least my dream had an ecstatic end to it this time.
"What?" I asked, finally opening my eyes to a worried, and I was thinking, slightly amused Ben.
"Fuck, red," he said, on a breath of incredulous air. "Some fuckin' dream you were having there. You did not want to wake up."
Understatement. My smile widened. His lips began to tip up in a corresponding smile of his own.
"Wanna tell me about it, sunshine?" he whispered, settling his big frame in a more relaxed fashion against my side.
I was wearing my T-shirt, the one I'd managed to lose in my dream. But the familiar feel of his heat and hardness, lying down the side of me, wrapped up in the familiar scent of him, was calming, soothing.
Perfect.
But admitting I'd just had hard and fast and totally awesome, medication induced, sex with him in my dream was more than I could face up to right now. I shook my head to say no.
His smile became smug.
"Then, I'll just have to fill in the blanks. Like, maybe you were playin' with yourself. Fingers slick with your juices, legs spread wide as I watched."
My eyes felt big in my face, but I managed to shake my head again to say no. A small twitch took up residence at the corner of my lips.
"No," he confirmed. "How about me lickin' you, tastin' that delicious honey of yours, while you bucked and writhed and ground back against my face."
I raised my eyebrows at him. Really, I think that was his fantasy more than mine. However, I'd definitely not complain if it was on offer.
"OK," he said, a small amused smile on his face. "You're still not gonna tell me?"
I shook my head no, then cocked it to the side, waiting for another of his guesses. This was entertaining, and also it broke the spell of the dream with apparent ease. What would he think up next? And could it match my Aurorix induced fantasies of him?
I realised then, that those medication assisted dreams had involved Ben. Even before I had a face to gaze at on my mystery man, he had smelled like Ben's cologne. He had been Ben in my mind. Even before I knew Ben existed.
How was that possible?
"How about," Ben whispered, ducked his head down and nuzzled his face into the curve of my neck, "you were dreaming about me movin' inside you, right here, right now, under these sheets, with the cameras rollin'. Are you a closet exhibitionist, red? Is that what turns you on?" His voice was husky and deep, and if he thought I was turned on in my dream, he should pay attention to the sound of his words right now. They were undoubtedly turned on by the image he'd just created.
"You're a good investigator, Ben," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him and softly running my hands through his hair. I felt his entire body relax into me, as though my touch, or perhaps my words, gave him something he desperately needed.
He pulled me closer, our bodies flush against each other. We couldn't have been nearer unless he was inside me; an image that had done enough mischief already tonight.
"Do you dream like this a lot?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled as his lips still pressed against my skin.
I nodded, then found the strength to open up to him and admit, "It's because of medication."
I'm not sure why I told him that, but with Ben I found acceptance. I found open arms and a warm body that didn't turn away. If he could accept where I had come from, who I'd had to be for the past too many years, then I was pretty sure he'd accept the fucked up, screwed up, prescription-meds-taking me.
"What medication?" he asked softly, carefully, as though he was treading on egg shells, but desperately trying to get to the other side.
I stifled my sigh. He wasn't running, at least there was that.
"Aurorix," I said, resisting the urge to put space between us. "For anxiety." There wasn't really anything else to add to that. Running from Roan McLaren for so long would make anyone anxious.
He gave me a gentle squeeze of his arms, then laid a soft kiss against my neck, above my pulse there - which was fluttering a little too quickly, I think.
"I wasn't sure," he said quietly, confusing me for a split second. "But there were times when you switched your light on at night, only for a few seconds, as though you needed to see your room, just for a moment, to ensure it was safe, or there, or somethin'. I don't know." He wasn't talking about my meds, he was talking about my dreams. The Aurorix accepted, like he accepted everything else about me. "But at those times I felt drawn to you. I wanted to be the one who shone light on your darkness. I wanted to be the thing you reached for in the middle of the night to scare away the nightmares."
I was sure I'd stopped breathing now. To think, all those times I'd woken in a sweat, dreaming of him... he'd been right there with me. He'd been as drawn to me as I had to him.
Even though he didn't truly know me. Even though I didn't know it was him I sensed in the shadows watching me day after day. Even before we knew, we knew.
I'd been so tired. So exhausted facing this all on my own. Ben should have been a shadowy threat, and he had been to some degree, but night after night of sensing his nearness, somehow made the threat seem less real. My mind had turned the shadow into my mystery visitor in my dreams.
A visitor I came to trust.
"The more I followed you," Ben admitted in his low, rough voice, "the more I felt compelled to be close to you." He paused, making his next words mean so much more. "You became my medication."
He took a deep breath in and then let it out so slowly, as though trying to wash away his sins. I shook my head softly, from side to side. As far as I was concerned, he didn't have any sins that n
eeded cleansing. Ben had been tasked with following me by Detective Pierce. Their reasons were sound. I understood them.
But I also understood Ben.
I understood him completely. Ben and I were cut from the same twisted and battered cloth, we could see right through the disguises we wore, into our very souls. That sort of connection, coupled with my desperate need to have someone else take the burden of survival from me for once and Ben's desperate need to protect me at all costs from the start - unlike he'd been able to protect his baby sister - made us do things that we wouldn't normally have done. It made us reach for the other person, to get closer when we shouldn't have, to lower our guard and let each other in our hearts.
Even before we realised we'd found the person we'd been desperately searching for.
"You're my giant," I whispered, not caring if he understood the reference at all. Ben was the man who would stand between me and the monsters in the world. I was the woman who would do the same for him.
"What does that mean, red?" he asked softly, snuggling in closer still.
"It was always you," I said, my voice catching on the words, my chest rising and falling too quickly for them to come out smoothly. The realisation that Ben Tamati was everything I had been craving, everything I needed in order to face this world I'd run and hid within, was so great, it stole my breath, wrapped around my heart, and squeezed tight.
I didn't mind the feeling at all.
"Even before I knew it was you," I admitted. "It was your scent. It was your shadow. It made me feel safe. It made me feel alive."
"Red," he breathed out, crushing me to his chest, compounding that feeling of my heart being squeezed so tightly. "For as long as you need me, I'm there."
He kissed the side of my head, in amongst my hair. Softly, gently. Like you would a precious treasure.
We held each other silently for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Mine were chaotic, but beautiful. The tightness in my chest, being held in his arms, was balanced with the weightlessness of discovery. I'd found him. My protector. My other half.
Sleep eventually claimed me, but not before I heard Ben whisper, "It was always you too, red. Even before I knew it was you."
And the tightness gave way to the sensation of feeling free.
Chapter 19
It Reached The Very Depths Of My Heart
It took until mid morning for Pierce to confirm that Kasey was still alive. The delay in locating her was because she was still tied up in Roan McLaren's world. I hadn't expected that. I had honestly believed she would have gotten out by now. She would have escaped. Or been dead. But Kasey was entrenched in that scene now. Willingly, it seemed. I had to ask myself, if that was a direct result of what Roan did to her. Of what he did to her because of me.
It was not an easy internal debate to have.
The time spent that morning in ASI HQ had been strained and uncomfortable, despite Ben's attempts to soothe and make me feel safe. It was a secure location, but the reason why we were all stuck inside this fortress didn't vacate my mind. Even the closeness I sensed between us, since last night's revelations, couldn't wipe the reality of why we were still here from my head.
And then Pierce returned with news of Kasey.
He didn't meet us in the interview room, but the lunch-room, where most everyone who'd stayed at ASI overnight were having coffee. The grandma from the reception area, Carmel, had set out a spread of surprisingly delicious food. But as soon as Pierce walked in, I couldn't stomach what she'd put on my plate.
Ben's impassive mask slipped, clearly aware of the pressure I was under, the tension this was placing on me. But I deserved it. I deserved everything I felt, because Kasey was still there. Still trapped. And God knows what else Roan had done to her over the years, in order for her not to leave.
The guilt was crushing in its intensity. I wanted to be sick.
Pierce sighed. "It's precarious. To confront her could be disastrous. But we're ready to move on McLaren. Word has it he's left Wellington. Our team has tracked him to Hamilton, where we assume he has based himself, in order to make a move on King. We're closing in now and we expect him to be secured by the end of today."
That was welcome news. For a moment I let Pierce's words settle inside my mind, pushing a bit of the tension and pressure to the back, and allowing me to rejoice in the prospect of an end to all of this. Five years. It had been a long time coming. But Roan McLaren was about to be taken out of my life. Locked away. No longer a dark ominous threat hanging over my head.
Ben's arm around my shoulder squeezed slightly. Letting me know he felt the relief seeping into my frame. It was almost over. I couldn't get my head around it.
So, why did I still feel sick to my stomach?
And then Pierce began talking again, reminding me exactly why I felt so ill still, despite a glimpse of light at the end of that very, very long tunnel I had been stuck in.
"If we move on the woman while McLaren is being secured, we could get her on side before word of his arrest reaches the Compound."
Yeah, that was why I still felt sick. Kasey. And maybe even more girls I had known and walked away from without a backward glance. I wasn't naive enough to think if I had stayed I could have helped them avoid Roan's attention. But guilt is a tricky bed fellow. And I felt guilty, because I got out and they didn't. But it was even worse than that. I felt guilty, because I wasn't there to keep Roan's attention from them, so he would have noticed them instead.
Part of me knew it was useless to feel this guilt. Roan was who he was, I didn't make him that way. But guilt is not a simple thing. It is wretched in its complexity. And just because I understood the fault did not lie with me, did not mean I could avoid the guilt.
"She may not be the only one who needs a helping hand," Pierce added, confirming my fears. "In which case, we could use her to get to the rest of them. The plan is to enact a two-pronged attack. One to arrest McLaren and the other, simultaneously or there about, to rescue those who are unable to rescue themselves."
It was ambitious, but I understood the desire to make the effort. Pierce was singularly focused on the notion of rescuing Kasey and anyone else who may require it. His conversation with Ben in the interview room made so much more sense. This was what he did. What made him tick. He was a modern day knight in shining armour, but he didn't ride a horse or wield a sword. He drove a nondescript car and flashed a police badge instead. That didn't make him any less noble in my eyes.
"The thing is," Pierce said, shifting uneasily in his chair, which made Ben stiffen at my side. I was just curious and weary, but anticipation of the end was keeping me buoyed. "My guys tried to approach her and it was clear before they completed the meet that she would run. We think she's likely to run right back to McLaren. There's a chance they have a signal, when the shit hits the fan. If she's been trained to hit it, she might let McLaren know something is going down, before we have a chance to arrest him."
"Then wait until he's arrested before you move on his associates in the Compound," Ben said steadily.
"We have some concerns," Pierce interjected. "It's the women and children. If we wait for McLaren to be arrested, then they could get caught in the crossfire when we move on the Compound. A signal his end could mean disaster for those unable to get themselves out."
Everyone who was present had remained silent throughout Pierce's brief, but they had certainly all been listening keenly.
"It's a catch 22," Pierce added. "We make a move and startle her, she lets McLaren know. We wait until McLaren is secured, a trigger is set and the Compound implodes. It's happened before. Collateral damage when taking down a target as high profile as Roan McLaren is."
There was that phrase again. Collateral damage. Kasey was the collateral damage to my father defying Roan McLaren and protecting me. Not that I would have wanted my side of that situation to have gone any differently, but Kasey had suffered - and for more than just that one time, I was betting - because of how we had a
cted. I refused Roan, Dad refused to hand me over. Kasey was hurt.
I quietly placed the plate of food I'd barely touched on a table to the side and leaned forward in my seat to stare at the ground. I think part of the position was to help stop the nausea from creeping up my throat. I hated this. This wait for it to be over. If I could have done something to keep active, to keep my mind - and stomach - off what was about to happen, I would have.
A large, warm hand came to rest on my back and a slow circle began as Ben rubbed gently, trying to ease my mind. And stomach. And heart. I really didn't have it in me right then to feel grateful. I just wanted this to be over, once and for all.
Pierce cleared his throat, but I didn't look up from the linoleum covered floor.
"We have a plan, that might make it go smoother," he said slowly.
"No," Ben replied, voice low and threatening. I did glance up at that. Ben's dark eyes were narrowed on the detective's. I wouldn't have wanted to be the one receiving that threatening stare.
"Ben," Pierce started, "she would be well protected. I'd be there myself to ensure it."
I sat upright and turned my gaze to Pierce.
"You have a fuckin' cheek," Ben said, through gritted teeth beside me. "You know that, don't you?"
Pierce held Ben's glare with a steady gaze of his own.
"People's lives are at risk," he pointed out evenly.
"And you think that is justifiable cause to risk Abi's," Ben growled.
The room shifted. Either the rest of the people watching hadn't put two and two together as quickly as Ben did. Or they saw something right then that put them on alert. I didn't know, I was still hung up on the fact that Pierce wanted me to help. To do something. To be active. And in the process maybe pay back some of the debt I'd accumulated in guilt.
"The woman may not run if she sees Abi," Pierce pushed.
"Or she may see it for the trap it is, as Abi has been missing from that place for five... whole... fuckin'... years." Ben's words were drawn out to emphasise how bad an idea he thought this was.
Sweet Seduction Shadow Page 19