She opened her eyes and glanced up at him, meeting those whiskey-hued eyes. They peered down, pleasure stretching across his face, his breathing ragged as he watched her head bob up and down, sucking and licking and teasing. She loved the way the muscles in his forearms flexed beneath the surface of his skin as he gripped her hair, guiding her mouth along his cock.
Cong moved inside her, sliding every inch of his member between her lips, her mouth stretched as far as it could. Tara’s core clenched at the sound of Cong’s moaning as her tongue swirled against the underside of the head of his cock.
“Mmmm,” she moaned as Cong withdrew himself from the confines of her hot orifice. His breathing was heavier now, coming in short bursts, his eyes blazing with passion and anticipation. He bent down to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and withdrew something from it. Seconds later, Tara heard the tearing of foil.
Then Cong was beside her, caressing her breasts, his mouth working its way over her neck. Brushing away her hair, his lips blazed their way down her chest until once more, her pale pink nipples were in his mouth, demanding the attention they craved.
Cong’s fingers slid down her body, tracing the curves of her hips, slowly making their way to the junction between her thighs. Automatically, her legs parted, and Cong positioned himself between them.
“Are you sure this is what you want, lengzai?” he whispered, the head of him nestled at her opening, his muscles taut as he looked down at her.
Tara nodded. “I want you, Cong. Please don’t make me wait anymore,” she whispered.
Then he was inside her. Tara gasped as pleasure coursed its way through her veins as he withdrew from her body then plunged back in. Grasping her legs, Cong drove every inch of himself within her, his thrusts producing little whimpers from her mouth. Her nails clawed into the taut muscles encasing his shoulder blades. A soft moan came from her chest as is tongue glided over her nipple. The blood raced through her veins, her nipples hardening under the attention of Cong’s tongue. A shudder coursed through Tara’s body as his teeth pulled on the sensitive bud. It was as if electricity had shocked her. His fingers pressed tenderly into her flesh, his lips pulling on the invisible string that connected her breasts and clit.
Tara slid her hands over Cong’s body, loving the sensation of his flesh on hers, sending her sensations soaring. Nothing, no one, had ever felt this good before. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hips meeting every hard thrust. She stroked his hair as he sucked her nipples. “Oh my god, this feels so good,” she moaned.
“Then this is going to feel even better,” Cong grunted. Grabbing her by her wrists, he pulled up, so that she sat in his lap, legs swung on either side of his hips, still impaled on his large cock. Face to face now, Cong slid his hands down her arms, grabbing her by the hips, moving her up and down.
Heat spread through her. Tara threw back her head, and Cong’s lips fluttered across the side of her face, down her jaw and her neck. The heat radiated down her spine, all the way down to her toes. Her hips rocked against his, the sensation of his groin rubbing her clit creating a storm of intense heat between her thighs.
One hand buried itself in her hair at the base of her neck, forcing her to look at him. Tara gasped with the force of it, finding herself loving it. She loved the demands his body made of her, and she crushed her lips to his, forcing the seam of his mouth open with her tongue. Tara had never known such incredible heights of passion before. The tightness in the centre of her core told her she was close to release.
Tara sucked on his tongue, loving the smooth hot sensation as her hips bounced against his thighs. Pulling back her mouth, she locked gazes with him as he thrust up into her, stealing her breath away. The scream nestled in her lungs, threatening to burst out of her chest. Her breathing intensified, and she writhed and shook beneath his hands. The pressure continued to build until a scream pierced the air, and it took her a moment to realise it was coming from her, lost in the all-consuming sensations that rippled throughout her body.
Cong’s arms tightened around her body, his cock thrusting harder inside her body, until she felt his arms and thighs tighten, and finally surrendered to his own release. Tara held him close, feeling his heartbeat pounding in his chest against hers, his breath hot against her neck, as they tumbled back onto the pillows, their bodies tingling with the aftereffects of their lovemaking.
Cong
Darkness poured into the bedroom, with only a few lights from the buildings opposite to give any illumination. Silence filled the room except for the quiet sounds of contentment Tara murmured as she slept beside him. Her beautiful red hair deepened to almost black in the darkness, and her creamy skin had paled to a shimmery white. She laid on her side, facing away from him. By the gods, she was exquisite.
A warm feeling of peace spread through him. There was something about her that made her mesmerising to watch while asleep. The sheet covering her had come away, exposing the top of a creamy breast, and Cong could already feel himself hardening at the sight. No other woman had caused him to feel like this before.
Many women had shared his bed, but there had never been this sense of calm washing over him after sex as it was happening now with Tara. With her, it felt right. It felt natural to have her here, sleeping beside him. All he wanted to do was cradle her in his arms until dawn broke, so that he could see the first rays of the sun pour into the room and wash over her face as she woke.
Damn. How could he feel this way about someone he’d just met? It was meant to have been a quick fuck and then move on. But now she was here, it dawned on him that he didn’t want to let her go. She wasn’t just a quick fuck. She was something … more.
Cong sat up, an indiscernible feeling surging through him. He’d developed deeper feelings for the British redhead than what he’d initially planned. Damn her and her mesmerising green eyes. Damn her zest for life, and damn her clumsy ways that literally catapulted her into his arms.
This wasn’t the plan, and that sent a shiver of trepidation through him. He liked his life orderly, knowing what was coming, what he needed to do, and what the next project was. There was no time in his life for anything long-term with any woman, redhead or not. But there he was, the urge to keep her by his side forever surging through every fibre of his being.
And would she stay, if he asked her to?
That was the million-dollar question. Insecurity poured over him like a dark wave, doubt rippling through his mind. Tara was heading to Hong Kong the following week and then she was out of his life. She’d spend her time travelling from one tourist attraction to the other, before flying back home. Was a week enough for what he wanted with her?
The answer was no.
Twisting his body around, he brushed a wayward lock of hair from her cheek, marvelling at how soft her skin was. She felt like the petal of a rosebud just beginning to bloom. A small smile danced over his lips as he watched her turn over onto her front, the covers sliding further down her back. Resisting the urge to plant a kiss on the exposed skin, Cong reached for the sheet and pulled it up. He didn’t want to wake her up. She needed to rest after their lovemaking.
Lovemaking. Now that was a word Cong had never used before, but it certainly fit with what he did with Tara. By the gods, his body couldn’t get enough of her. They’d spent hours making love before finally succumbing to the need for sleep.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Cong rose to his feet, careful not to wake Tara. Quietly, he slipped a pair of sweats on, made his way out of the bedroom, and walked down the hall to the living area. Heading to the kitchen, he pressed the button on the coffee maker and waited for the steaming liquid to appear.
Glancing out of the window, the darkness outside informed him it was sometime early in the morning. Not that it wasn’t unusual for him to be up at this time; it was quite normal for him to be up before dawn crept over the horizon, a throwback to his childhood living in a mountain village. Most of the villagers would be up before the sun rose,
getting ready to work in the rice paddies or tend to the animals. At six years old, his primary job was to get the stool and buckets prepared to milk the cow, check the chicken coop for fresh eggs, and to put the water on for breakfast.
How far he’d come since those days. Being up at five in the morning was late for him, even now in his thirties, but at least he didn’t need to go hunting around the coop for eggs these days. A shudder coursed down his spine as the memory of one of their more energetic hens had chased him out of the coop flashed before his eyes. All he had wanted was to check if she had any eggs for him, but no, she’d started pecking him. When he’d told her off, all she did was lunged at him until he ran back inside crying for his grandmother, who just chuckled and scolded him for not bringing back any eggs.
Cong chuckled at the memory. His grandparents had been gone for many years, but even now he missed them dearly. Many times, on their visits to Macau they told him how proud they were of what he had achieved. Warmth spread through his chest at the first time he was able to bring them to the city, to see how well he was doing, and what he had accomplished in such a short time. The adoration in their eyes was all that mattered to him. That and with Xue, it was all that kept him going, to do better for everyone. Failure was not an option. He’d keep going, no matter what.
And he had.
Their deaths had hit him hard. Ten years ago, heart attacks within days of each other. First his grandmother, then his grandfather. Cong remembered how the gentle giant of a man always said he wouldn’t want to live without his wife, even with her nagging and burnt rice. Two days after she passed, so did he.
The bitter scent of coffee beans mixed with hazelnuts swirled in the air. Pouring a cup, Cong strode back to the living area. On his desk, his phone flashed. Checking his messages, Cong found Zhihuan had called him about an hour ago.
It was four thirty in the morning, but Cong dialled his number anyway. After a few rings, Zhihuan picked up.
“Cong, where the hell did you go during the opening? Angela was going crazy,” he said, exhaustion coating his words.
Cong sipped on the hot liquid before replying. “Something came up. How pissed is she?”
“Extremely. I’d send some flowers tomorrow to make it up to her. She’s been calling both our phones since yesterday, trying to get hold of you. What came up that was so urgent?”
Cong leaned back in his seat, the soft leather sighing under his weight. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“Go on,” Zhihuan told him, his voice layered in anticipation.
Cong closed his eyes for a second and breathed in deeply before replying. “How did you know Melissa was the one? I mean, you’ve gone through more women than I did, but you married Melissa within only months of meeting her. Why her?”
A chuckle floated down the line followed by a creak of a chair. “I don’t know if I can explain it properly, but there was just something about her that caught my eye. I couldn’t look at another woman after seeing her. No one else measured up. Melissa just had this quality about her. She’d walk into a room, and the only person I’d see was her. I loved the way she stood up to me, how she’d argue with my views and reasonings. Didn’t hurt the fact that she’s gorgeous as sin. But every time I’d go near her, she’d set my blood on fire, and I didn’t mind the burn. The first time I made love with her, I swore to myself I’d never let her go. So, I didn’t. She’s never leaving.”
Cong listened to the way Zhihuan spoke, his voice growing softer, melting under the heat of his words. It was the first time he’d ever spoken this openly for the way he felt for his American wife, and Cong found himself aching under their significance. “You knew after the first time?” he asked, his voice low and soft.
“Yeah. Listen, Cong, as much as I love talking about my wife, why are you asking about this stuff? Are you … shit, man, did you find someone?”
“What are you talking about?” Cong replied, sipping on his coffee.
“You did! Holy fuck, you met someone, and now you’re falling in love. Tell me, who is she and what’s she like?”
Cong snorted. “Like I’d tell you.”
“I’m your lawyer; you need to tell me everything, so that I can protect your arse. Now give me the details,” the other man ordered, amusement lacing his tone.
Cong gave in. Once Zhihuan got the scent, he’d go after you until he got what he wanted. It was just one of the many reasons they worked so well together. “Her name’s Tara. She’s a school teacher on holiday for two weeks. She heads to Hong Kong next week. I met her at the airport the day I came back from Tokyo.”
“Did you pick her up on the luggage carousel or something?”
“Her heel snapped off, and she literally fell into my arms.”
“Sounds like the making of a cheesy romance novel to me. Melissa would like it.”
Cong snorted again. Melissa would be all over Tara in an instant, and he realised how much he’d like to introduce the two women together. Damn, this wasn’t good.
“So, when do I get to meet this school teacher? Does she wear glasses and put her hair in a bun?” Zhihuan teased.
“Not yet. I’m going to see if I can convince her to stay in Macau for a bit longer.”
“Wow, sounds like you’ve got it bad if you want Tara to stay. Should I tell Angela to start ringing round the wedding planners for you?”
“Shut up, you idiot. Do you know what Angela was trying to get hold of me for? If she’s been ringing you all day, then it must be something serious.”
“Yeah, I do actually,” Zhihuan said, all traces of humour draining from his voice. “Xue’s parents have been calling. They’re asking if it is possible to send more money.”
Cong sat up, confusion producing a crease between his eyes. “How come? This is the second time they’ve asked for more money in a few days. What’s going on?”
A sigh sounded in his ear. “Xue’s gone into hospital. Apparently, there’s been some complications, and she’s developed an infection somewhere. The doctor’s need to give her some special medication, and then she needs three operations in the next few weeks. But you know what our hospitals are like, they want the money upfront.”
“Shit,” Cong breathed, placing the half-empty mug down on the table in front of him. “How bad is it?”
Zhihuan was silent for a few seconds, but they stretched into eternity before he spoke. “They sent me a copy of the doctor’s reports to look at. It’s serious, Cong. There’s a whole load of jargon that I don’t recognise, but I was able to understand the gist of it. The infection seems bad and it’s spreading quickly. They need to get it stabilised before they can operate. I managed to get a hold of the hospital, and they sent me a copy of the bill. What do you want me to do?”
“Pay the bill,” Cong said, his voice tired but full of emotion. “I don’t care how much the hospital wants, just pay them whatever they ask. Are they still in Guangzhou?”
“Yeah.”
“Find the best specialists in the country – no, in the world – and have them look over Xue’s medical records. I want the best people on this, Zhihuan. I need her to get better as quick as possible. Screw the expense. It’s not as if I can’t fucking afford it. Just tell everyone to do their best for her. That’s all that matters.”
Zhihuan’s voice grew soft. “Not a problem, I’m up anyway so this will be my main priority today.”
A deep sigh escaped Cong’s mouth. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it. Oh, if Xue’s parents or the hospital calls, you have my permission to pay anything they’re asking upfront. You don’t need to ask me beforehand, you got it?”
“Sure, boss. Whatever you say. Anything else you want me to do?”
Cong rubbed a hand over his weary eyes and tried to suppress the guilt that knotted his stomach.
“Yeah, phone the village and see what supplies they need now winter is coming Clothing and books for the kids, extra rice, cakes, whatever they need. There’s a festival coming up soon. I want
to send something to them,” Cong said, hearing the strain in his voice.
“Sure, I’ll get Angela on that once she’s in the office. I think you’d better go back to bed, Cong. Try and get some rest. I’ll take care of Xue and the hospital.” Zhihuan’s voice was soft, but he could hear the bite of command in it.
Cong nodded, even though he knew his friend couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I’ll catch you later.”
“Are you coming into the office today?”
Cong paused. “I’m not sure.”
Zhihuan gave a soft chuckle. “I understand. Spend time with your lady. The company can survive without you for a day or two.”
“Bye,” Cong said, and hung up the phone.
Staring into the darkness, with only the lights of the neighbouring buildings illuminating the room, Cong felt the guilt bubble within him. He should be in Guangzhou, at the hospital, instead of his apartment. But every time he went near Xue, he couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her dark eyes. Not to mention the cold stares her parents gave him when they saw him. Not that he could blame them; he’d feel the same way if the roles were reversed, but what could he do? No, the best option was just to stay away. To look after her from a distance. He’d go to work, earn the money needed. After all, who would support them, support the village? If he didn’t work, they would be the ones to suffer. He couldn’t do that to them. It was his responsibility.
It was the price he had to pay for what he did.
Tara
Tara roused from her heavy slumber, feeling the ache in her body before her mind could realise why. Slowly opening her eyes, it took her a moment to understand that the walls she was staring at were not, in fact, the hotel room she was supposed to be staying.
She was in Cong’s bedroom.
A shiver of something indescribable rippled through her. She’d never done anything like this before. The only times she had gone to bed with someone was after she had been dating them for several months; she’d only known Cong for less than a week. It was crazy.
Intoxication Page 10