Been Loving You Too Long (DuChamps Dynasty)

by Donavan, Seraphina

  It didn’t come. Instead, she simply walked behind the chair took both his hands, and looped the tie around them. It wasn’t tied very securely. He could get out of it any time he wanted. But that was the test. She wasn’t taking control. She was asking him to cede it.

  When she walked in front of him again, she straddled his thighs and lowered herself onto his lap, the tempting mounds of her breasts teasingly close to his lips.

  With a glance at her face, he saw that she knew exactly what she was doing. “I’m at your command,” he offered.

  ~~****~~

  Ophelia shuddered. She’d never imagined that Vincent would willingly go along with her, that he would let her bind him. Reaching behind her, she unclasped her bustier and tossed it to the floor. Cupping her breasts, she rubbed her nipples gently, then lifted one to his lips.

  He didn’t close his mouth over it as she’d anticipated, but licked tenderly, the soothing heat of his tongue easing the ache. The process was repeated, each gentle lash of his tongue on her sensitive flesh sent heat spiraling to her core, leaving her wet and aching.

  Pulling back from him, she rose and slowly shimmied her panties down, over her hips and then down her legs until they dropped to the floor. Rather than simply straddling him again, she turned, facing away from him and sank down onto his lap. Shifting slightly, she reached between their bodies and grasped his cock, guiding it to her entrance.

  She watched him in the mirror, taking note of his expressions, his responses and also of the fact that he watched her just as intently. Lifting her hips, she took him inside her, pressing down onto him, feeling the hard, thick length slide into her. It eased the ache for just a moment, but then created a new kind of tension inside her.

  With slow, sensual movements, she rocked against him, on him, feeling him move within her. Leaning into him, her back pressed to his chest, she felt his lips on her neck, then his teeth and tongue. Circling her hips, she moaned as the pleasure intensified. Deliberately, she clenched her inner muscles, squeezing tightly around him, then smiled at the harsh curse that escaped him. “Did you like that?” she asked.

  “I fucking loved it. You can be in charge anytime.”

  “I think we can work out some sort of agreement on who gets to be in charge and when,” she offered.

  ~~****~~

  Vincent watched her hand moving lower, sliding over her breasts and down her belly. He expected her to touch herself, and was eager to see it. But she surprised him yet again.

  She moved lower, to where their bodies were joined, her soft hand cupping his balls, massaging them gently, even as she created a mind numbing rhythm with the clenching of her sheath around his cock.

  “Christ, Ophelia! I’m never going to last if you keep doing that.”

  “I don’t want you to last. I want you to lose control.” She turned slightly, so she could whisper the last of the words next to his ear, “I want you give into it completely,” She then clamped her teeth on his earlobe, sucking gently, and moving lower to his neck. “I love how it feels when you cum inside me—the heat and the rush. I feel so close to you then.”

  He was lost. His balls tightened to the point of pain, drawing in her hand even as she continued to touch them, feather light and so sweetly sensual. Her body clasped around him one last time, and he erupted inside her. His cock jerking, his whole body tensing with the power of his release. It seemed to be endless, going on forever, spurred on by her continued milking of him. Sweating, shaking, he rested his forehead against her shoulder, gasping for breath and praying for strength.

  Lifting his head, he met her gaze in the mirror staring at the siren’s smile that played on her lips.

  Then she moved her hand, pressing her fingers against her clit, stroking gently as his cock softened inside her.

  She’d held back on purpose, he knew, just so she could give him the performance that he loved. No longer distracted by his own driving need for release, he could watch intently as she strained toward her own.

  With her head thrown back, her hair cascading over his chest and shoulders, she was achingly beautiful to him, the incarnation of everything feminine. Her breasts heaved as her breathing became more ragged. He could feel her body tightening around him, no longer the artfully choreographed rhythm of before, but far more primal and powerful.

  She moaned his name, and he bit her lightly, his teeth gently scoring the flesh where her neck and shoulder met. Her thighs strained against him, and he gave up any pretense of being bound. The loose knot she’d tied had given way long ago. Unraveling the silk from his wrists, he lifted his hands to her breasts, touching her gently, mindful of how sensitive she had become. Kneading those mounds softly, he whispered against her ear, “Come for me, Ophelia. Let me see you.”

  She shuddered again, her full lips parting on a harsh cry and then spasms of pleasure wracked her body, her sex pulsing around him.

  He held her, closing his arms around her as she shivered with the power of her climax.

  When it finally subsided, she lay limp against him.

  “We’re going to have to work on your knot tying skills.”

  She smiled. “You can show me later—I don’t think I’ve ever been this blissfully exhausted.”

  “It’s hard work being in charge,” he said, rising to his feet, taking her with him. With one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, he lifted her and carried her towards the waiting bed.

  “You’re going to kill yourself. I’m too heavy.”

  “Not yet,” he smiled. “Now when you’re hugely pregnant—”

  “That’s so mean!”

  He chuckled. “I’m only teasing. You’ll be beautiful then. Maybe even more than you are right now.”

  “Fat, with swollen ankles and cranky from hot flashes...Yes, I’ll be delightful.”

  Depositing her on the bed, he climbed in beside her, keeping his arms around her. One hand trailing down to the curve of her belly, covering it protectively. “I’ll rub your aching feet, and your aching back. I’ll fan you with palm fronds, if you want.”

  “You’re really okay with this? With having a baby?”

  “No. I’m not okay. It’s terrifying, but I can’t remember being happier than I am right now. If we have a daughter, she’ll look just like you. She’ll be sweet tempered and well behaved—most of the time. But not all the time. She’ll know how to stand up for herself and won’t take any crap from anyone.”

  Ophelia pressed a smiling kiss to his lips. “It could be a boy? Some mischievous, little scamp who will turn this house and our lives upside down.”

  “Whatever comes, as long as I have you.”

  “Always—whether you like it or not.”

  Vincent pulled her close, feeling at peace for the first time in so long. Freed from secrets, freed from the idea that he would suddenly morph into the monster his father had been, he felt hopeful. They could have a life together, and perhaps he could be the kind of father to their children that Thomas had been to him. “I do love you,” he whispered. “Thomas knew that when he did all this. That was why he did it.”

  Ophelia turned to face him. “I don’t care why he did it. I’m just so glad that he did. What were the words to that song the other day? I’ve been loving you too long to stop now?”

  “I hate to tell you this, but that’s kind of a break up song,” he offered with a teasing smile.

  “Maybe—or maybe it’s just about the fact that love doesn’t always have to be easy and it doesn’t always have to be returned. I loved you before I ever imagined you could ever love me back. And I’ll keep loving you, no matter what happens,” she promised.

  He closed his eyes, the words striking deep. “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. I’ll probably still be an ass from time to time, but you’ve got pretty good aim with your shoes.”

  “We can make this work, right?”

  “We already are,” he said, pressing his lips to hers.

  EPILOGUE
<
br />   Vincent sat in the boardroom while Claude and Marvin Tate squirmed in their seats as they faced the board.

  Melina wasn’t there, obviously having convinced her father and Claude that she should not be incriminated in any way.

  It was just as well. If they wanted to take the fall for her, it saved him a monumental headache.

  The other minor stockholders were considering the information before them when one of them asked, “So, how long will it take before this unauthorized loan is paid back?”

  Vincent sighed. “Too long. I’ve placed my apartment on the market and when it sells, that money will come back into the company coffers and cover the majority of what has been taken.”

  “And how will you be reimbursed for that?”

  “Slowly, over time, with the payments made by Claude and Marvin...and if I’m not reimbursed for it, then so be it. At this point, I have every hope that when we open the Marquis Royale a week from tomorrow, it will be the beginning of a renaissance era for our hotels,” Vincent offered.

  It had been two months since the charity auction and the ugly confrontations regarding Claude’s embezzlement and Melina’s involvement in the whole affair. Even though Claude was twice her age, it had become glaringly apparent that they were involved in far more than criminal activities together.

  Still, the hotel renovations had been completed, the staff hired and trained, and they would be open in time for New Year’s Eve and the Superbowl, both were excellent opportunities to work out any kinks before the free-for-all of Mardi Gras.

  Whatever else happened, the hotel that had been his and Thomas’ dream was complete and would be the jewel in the crown of DuChamps Hotels.

  “This is highly unorthodox, but as long as Claude is permanently relieved of duty, we’ll allow it to stand. Thank you, Vincent, for your diligence in uncovering this…” the older gentleman paused as if searching for the right word. “…this perfidy,” he finished.

  “Since the plan is acceptable to everyone, we’ll have the papers signed outlining your plan of restitution,” Vincent addressed Claude and Marvin.

  Once all the paperwork was signed, he disengaged himself from the other shareholders as quickly as possible and headed for his office and Ophelia who was waiting for him.

  They were finally going on the honeymoon that they wanted. The idea of lounging on a beach with her for a few days was sheer heaven for him.

  Entering his office, he saw her reclining on the leather couch, her hair mussed from her nap, and the skirt of her dress having worked its way up her thighs, and he smiled. “My office has never looked so inviting.”

  Tugging her dress back down, she said, “It better not have. How did it go?”

  “The board accepted the proposal to allow Claude and Marvin to make restitution and to essentially accept the apartment or any proceeds from it as collateral. The grand opening of the Marquis Royale is just over a week away, and that means that you and I are off to the beach.”

  Ophelia rose to her feet, smoothing her hair back. “If I can stay awake. This child of yours is making me tired all the time.”

  “I promise not to let you sleep too long in the sun. I’ll be vigilant in my sunscreen duties.”

  “So, Melina gets away with everything?”

  “For now, but the company is secure and that’s enough for me?”

  “And Vanessa? What happens when she comes back, Vincent? She’ll use whatever information she can against us, and she has a lot.”

  “Stop worrying,” he admonished. “We’ll handle that when it happens, and yes I said when, not if. I know it’s coming and so do you, but I refuse to let her greed spoil things for us. I did mention that we’re going to have a private beach, right? Clothing is optional.”

  “You’re really not worried about this?”

  “Not worried is an overstatement. It’s always concerning, but I’m not going to let it consume me. I’ve lived my whole life trying to hide all these secrets, Ophelia. Maybe they need to come out,” he replied, taking her hands and pulling her close to him. “Whatever happens, as long as we’re together, we can handle it.”

  Ophelia leaned against him, grateful that their relationship had taken the turn it had, that they could be so open and loving with one another. No fear of being rejected, no fear of things falling apart. A sense of peace came over her and she smiled. “Clothing optional, huh?”

  “I’ll turn you into a heathen, yet,” he promised with a smile.

  “I thought you did that last night,” she fired back. “Take me on my honeymoon, Mr. DuChamps, before I’m so heavily pregnant I can no longer fit in an airplane seat!”

  “I love you,” he whispered. “And somewhere, right now, Thomas is saying I told you so.”

  “I love you back,” she murmured, “And he can say it all he wants. He earned the right.”

  With his arm around her, they left the building, headed for their honeymoon and the life Thomas had envisioned for them.

  THE END

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