The Pervade Duet

by Fewings, Vanessa

  And if I survived, the coming back together again would see me rise.

  I held on to that thought, because that was all I had.

  All I could hope for.

  Shards of light flooded in through the bay window by the door, dancing upon Xavier’s flawlessness, his stark beauty reminding me of the impossibility of us. His expression pleaded for me to stay.

  What was being asked of me was merely the giving up of my happiness.

  “What do I get out of it?” I asked, even after that dark musing, a philosophical truth spilling like rain.

  “You mean other than a house?” James delivered the quip.

  “Yes. Do I get…?”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Me?”

  There came no answer to whether James was part of the temporary deal, but I knew that he was.

  That became obvious when he removed his hands from his pockets. “Show me.”

  A frisson of awareness captured me, causing addictive tingles in my chest. Damn him for having this effect on me. Damn him for making loving him possible.

  Unzipping my jeans, I pulled them down a little.

  His hand came down on mine and together we eased my jeans lower to expose my underwear.

  He focused between my thighs. “It seems you like to argue.”

  Oh, God. That spot of wetness on my panties revealed how much this man turned me on. How much they both turned me on. Quickly, I zipped up my jeans.

  Thoughts of the past with us all wrapped together in a tangle of bodies and sweat were too enticing to push away, the erotic imaginings of what else we’d do together too alluring to ignore.

  “How does your clit feel?” He leaned in. “Is it throbbing? Are you fantasizing about my tongue on you again? Just like you were in the helicopter on the way here?”

  Yes.

  He continued in that husky tone. “Is your cunt hungry for me again? Your ass clenching with need to be filled by Xavier? Is us taking you at the same time all you can think about?”

  I turned my head away sharply, cheeks flushing, even as his thumb continued to rub my bottom lip. My tongue licked his thumb as I glanced at Xavier, relieved when I saw his nod of approval.

  “I own your pleasure, Em.” James drew me back to him.

  Instinctively, my bite came down hard on his thumb in rebellion.

  “Very good,” he said with no response to the pain, merely shoving his thumb deeper into my mouth and running it back and forth along my tongue like he was fucking me with it.

  “I like it when you show strength,” he added. “That we can use.”

  I swallowed my saliva as best I could despite the tip of his thumb nudging my throat seductively.

  He removed his thumb. “Take them off,” he demanded.

  Obeying, I kicked off my shoes and then leaned against the wall, dragging my jeans all the way down over my hips and then stepping out of them.

  I felt his warm hand on my hip, and then heard the snap of my panties as James ripped them off.

  “Spread your legs a little,” he ordered.

  Again, I obeyed, watching him as he reached down and began thrumming my clit with a swift fingertip. Glancing up, I saw Xavier watching in awe.

  “Eyes on me, Emily,” snapped James. “What do you say?”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Very good.”

  Breathing sharply, my clit spasming at his touch, I looked down to see his speed increase, nudging my folds with his frantic rhythm.

  Remembering his command, I broke my stare from what he was doing.

  “Part your labia,” he ordered. “Show us more of you.”

  Obediently, I parted my folds, the exquisite tingling sensation feeling extraordinary.

  “That’s it, Em,” Xavier encouraged.

  James continued flicking with panache as he said huskily, “You didn’t know before you were living in my city. You had no idea how much of your life I had access to. Now you do. You couldn’t have comprehended that all that power belonged to one man. You couldn’t know your pussy was always destined to belong to us.”

  My eyes widened with that revelation.

  James’ tone darkened. “Come hard and show your compliance. Or don’t come at all.”

  “I want to come,” I whispered, as twinges of arousal made me breathless.

  “I will allow it.” James gave a nod of approval. “But before you do, agree to obey me in all things. No more rebelling—or I will burn away your disobedience.”

  “I promise to be good.”

  “Then you may come.”

  His chestnut irises sparkled with glints of gold. They were devastatingly hypnotic and I fell under their spell as easily as I fell into my orgasm. My thighs trembled as I disappeared into the bliss of his sexual prowess.

  My deep-throated moans filled the room as I rode out the intense climax.

  “Come again, Emily.” His flicking once more accelerated. “Another orgasm, please. This one for Xavier.”

  Gasping, I surrendered—chasing after what was mine with rocking hips and endless moans, reaching down to grip his wrist, keeping his fingers dancing in place to carry me over the edge again.

  And again…

  The Palace of Westminster, ensconced along the River Thames, was easily the most famous and recognizable of British landmarks—the towering clock known as Big Ben a regal part of its vast gothic architecture.

  James helped me out of our chauffeured town car and we headed into the palace. My body was still buzzing from that devious clit play he’d recently demonstrated so brilliantly in front of Xavier back in Primrose Hill. Our erotic show had been enjoyed by all three of us, apparently. There’d been no time for more. Ballad had a meeting that had brought him here.

  All of these emotional highs and lows were making my head spin.

  Xavier didn’t come with us, but I had been invited along.

  James didn’t tell me why. He’d virtually ignored me during the entire trip here while working on his laptop. I didn’t really mind…it had given me the chance to stare out the windows and admire the view. Admire him, too.

  This morning had seen him escalate his authority. He’d sent me reeling and it was hard to come down. It was exhilarating to be toyed with, and I relished the memory of how he’d pleased Xavier by playing with me in front him. It titillated my senses to know Xavier had enjoyed seeing it.

  James was the director of all the chaos. The thought of it kept me in a constant state of arousal. Despite this, I had merely clutched my hands in my lap and remained silent for the entire ride, trying to figure out my place in all of this intrigue.

  With a flash of Ballad’s I.D., we were allowed entry into the Palace of Westminster, which housed the Houses of Parliament.

  Not once had I ever considered the possibility that I’d be strolling along these lofty corridors one day, peering up in awe at the spectacularly designed interior.

  And certainly not like this—wearing a sleek blue Chanel business suit, high-heels, and a short-bobbed wig. They’d dressed me in a disguise.

  Ballad didn’t want anyone to see the real me, apparently. I looked like his secretary walking beside him, carrying two folders to round out the executive assistant feel.

  From the outside, Parliament was gorgeous with its triple towers, gothic architecture, and sprawling structure that included the House of Commons and the House of Lords.But it earned its palace status on the inside, too.

  James led the way through the impressive lobby. Together, we continued into a familiar room—one I’d seen on TV but never really paid attention to before, since it was in huge contrast to my simple world. This was the House of Lords.

  The policeman who permitted our entry had given us a cursory nod of permission to go in. We found ourselves alone in the lavishly decorated chamber.

  The massive door closed behind us with a deep thud.

  Red studded leather seats circled the center stage—fit for the bums of Britain’s elite who scr
utinized the Bills brought into being by the House of Commons, a stone’s throw away. The men and women who’d found themselves a place here had inherited one of these lofty seats. That was pretty much all I knew.

  Peering up at the ornate ceiling, I admired the grandness of the paneled compartments showing ancient emblems. The stained-glass windows offered intricately colored patterns. Shades of red and gold drenched us in soft bronzed light.

  “Wow.” My voice echoed as I turned in a circle to take it all in.

  “That’s where the Queen sits.” James pointed to a majestic throne. “During the state opening of Parliament when she delivers her speech.”

  “Can I sit there?”

  “No.” He smirked and gestured to a long red seat. “Sit there.”

  I wanted to open the folders I was holding and have a peek inside—the same ones he’d told me not to look at under any circumstances. Fingering the edge, my imagination ran wild with what information it might contain. Maybe it was merely a prop for a well-healed secretary, or maybe it was a test to see if I obeyed and didn’t sneak a peek.

  James closed the gap between us and towered over me. “I’m going to give you the talk.”

  Crooking my neck to look up at him, I tried to interpret his words.

  “There’s a car waiting for you. The driver has been instructed to escort you to a safe place.”

  “What is this?”

  “Xavier and I believe that with him present, you feel pressured to stay.”

  “James—”

  “I need you to listen. To understand that if you stay, even though it may be temporary, anything you see or hear must remain confidential.”

  “I can do that.”

  He knelt before me. “Emily, the danger’s real. It’s as insidious as it is unpredictable.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “If you stay there’ll be consequences. Lives will be threatened. Lives—including yours—will change beyond all understanding.”

  “How would that be my fault?”

  “Because of your association to me…to us. That’s why you’ve been disguised.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  He studied my face, looking unconvinced.

  My eyes pleaded with him. “I want to stay.”

  “The cost is high. Perhaps too high.”

  “Will they hurt you because of me?”

  “That’s a frequent threat. But it’s not me I’m concerned about.”

  Reaching up, I caressed his jaw, my fingers trailing over his cleanly shaven face and cupping his cheek with affection. “Let me stay.”

  His hand rose up to take mine and he brought it to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

  “Why are we here?”

  James pushed to his feet. “For the truth.”

  The air left my lungs as I sank deeper into the seat with my heart racing.

  “Pervade?”

  James straightened his back. “We exist to protect humanity.”

  My flesh chilled at the change in his stance, that domineering nature slipping back into being as his eyes darkened.

  “Do you do bad things?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a license to kill?”

  He gave me a wry smile. “Do you think I’m James Bond?”

  My lips turned up in amusement. “I was beginning to wonder.”

  “I’m on the side of the angels. But I’ve already told you that.”

  I processed his words. “Why are you letting me in now?”

  He mulled this over. “If you stay I’m going to use you.”

  Struck by his honesty I said, “How?”

  He leaned low and tipped up my chin. “Your beauty, and your talent, would be useful to us.”

  Knocking his hand away, I got to my feet. He held his ground, keeping a small gap between us, looking down at me with the authority this place gave him.

  Glancing at the door I said, “You want me to stay for Xavier’s sake?”

  “For now, yes.”

  “But not for you?”

  A flash of raw emotion darkened his vestige. “I want you to know you have a choice. Xavier doesn’t. And I’m giving you the opportunity to walk away. Xavier will always watch over you.”

  It would never be enough…

  “I don’t want to know any more secrets,” I said sharply. “Don’t tell me anything that will put me or you or Xavier at risk.”

  “Emily, you went to Great Missenden. It’s a mistake that cannot be reversed. My advice is this—retrace your steps down the hallway, all the way back to the car. Don’t look back.”

  “And you trust me to remain silent about all of this?”

  “All of what?”

  “Right.” I exhaled slowly. “Did you suspect I was a spy?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s why you were angry when I turned up at your castle.”

  “Concerned, yes.”

  “But not now?”

  “No.”

  “How would you know for sure?”

  “It’s part of what we do. We needed time to turn over every leaf. Search every connection. Retrace every step you’ve ever taken.”

  My lips trembled at his confession.

  “I’ve yet to totally violate you. If you stay, however, violating you will be my pleasure…”

  “That’s a monstrous thing to say.”

  “You’re still standing here.”

  “Because of Xavier.”

  “Because of me. Admit it. Then, and only then, can we move forward.”

  “You want me to tell you I have feelings for you?”

  “Don’t insult me with such banality.”

  “Love, then?”

  “You fell in love with me back at the castle.”

  “Arrogant…” I bit back the rest.

  “If I have no hold on you in that regard, leave now.”

  “I’m staying for Xavier.”

  “Honesty, please.”

  “I find you compelling. Charismatic, even. And love and hate are such similar emotions I find I’m having difficulty telling them apart these days.”

  “What is your answer?”

  “Don’t make me say it.” Don’t make me betray Xavier.

  “Emily. Look at me.”

  I held his stare, my expression telling him what he wanted to know, how I really felt. Yes, there was love in my heart for him and I couldn’t remember the exact moment it had happened or even why, all I knew was that this man had a hold on me.

  Though I hated him, too.

  “I approve,” he said coldly.

  This was madness…this giving in and letting go. Perhaps my walking away would be the most sensible thing I’d ever do.

  Yet…

  “Thank you for giving me the chance to decide.” I studied him. “You already know my decision.”

  “Agree to obey me in all things. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”

  “Yes…” I let out a shaky breath. “I agree.”

  “I’m about to test your promise, Em.”

  How?

  I shivered, but there was no real fight left in me. I was too consumed by this heady mixture of affection and intrigue.

  “Thoughts?” he pushed.

  “You’re a complicated man, James.”

  “You have no idea.”

  He’d entrusted me with more details, even if the veil still covered my eyes.

  “What’s your part in all this, Sir Ballad?”

  “Small steps, Emily.”

  A knock at the door drew my attention. We both stared off at the man who’d poked his head in.

  The policeman threw me a respectful nod and then gave one to James. “Sir, I’ve been told to advise you that Hawk has arrived.”

  “Good.” James gave him a thin smile. “Thank you.”

  When he left I turned back to James. “Hawk?”

  “Let’s grab a tea first.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Down
the hall.”

  After a quick stop-off for a cup of tea—which was so James—we made our way down the sprawling hallways and on through another grand door. His comment that he could use me should have scared this undergraduate who’d once had a simple life. But intrigue was too strong a pull for my ego, which was being caressed by a promise that I could offer something more to the world than just making music and playing in an orchestra. I could play a part in something even greater.

  Halfway down the hallway, I realized my mistake.

  “James, the folders!” I said, panic-stricken.

  “You left them in the ante-room,” he said calmly. “On the coffee table.”

  “Yes.” I went to turn back. “I’m so sorry.”

  His strong arm wrapped around my waist and he hugged me to him. “You’d make a lousy spy, Ms. Rampling.”

  He seemed unperturbed and continued on into the House of Commons with me by his side. Scanning his face for signs of anger, I considered pulling away from his grip and hurrying back for the folders. Maybe they were empty after all, merely props to deceive others.

  James took my hand in his and led me up the steps toward the back wall. We made our way along the rows of seating until we reached the end. He’d chosen the upper most area, far from anyone and private enough to allow us to talk.

  The place was quiet. Only a handful of men and women sat on the lowest seats, talking softly. We were far away from them in the lofty seats and they seemed not to notice us.

  James sat close to me, his arm pressing into mine and my left hip crushed against his so that I felt his body heat through that sharp suit. The sensations were almost too much for me to handle…these electric pulses of excitement from our intimacy. His subtle cologne filled my senses with a potent mixture of him.

  I tried to distract myself by looking down at the grand sight below. The chamber was easily recognizable from when I’d watched Charles Wildwood, the Prime Minster, debate members of the opposition. This was where chaotic shouting occurred during the speeches, a cause for anger, bravery and much swagger from men and women born of privilege, and others who’d clawed their way up to the highest ranks of politics, all fighting over policy, change, and ideology.

  I’d not really watched them debate on TV for any length of time, to be honest. I often found myself changing the channel because of the disruption from politicians shouting at each other over their podiums. Or worse still, the terrible jeers from the members of the opposition.