She paused, as if allowing my words to sink in. Slowly, Mia followed my instructions, allowing me to guide her body.
“How does that feel?”
“Better,” she exhaled a shaky breath, “exposed.”
“Beautiful.” I took a leisurely trip around the table, allowing myself to appreciate her beauty; her perfectly rounded back, her sweet, lovely ass, and the curly, black hair that decorated the edge of her glistening lips. She was mesmerising. She was bound and she trusted me implicitly. My chest expanded with joy, my pants expanded with need.
I unbuttoned my shirt deliberately slow, watching Mia. She hovered somewhere between desire and uncertainty. I let my shirt drop to the floor as her hands tugged against my belt and her body swayed a little, unease settling in. I unbuttoned my pants and pulled them off watching her plump lips glisten as she bit and nibbled at them.
I threw my boxers aside and edged to the back of the table. Mia shivered as I traced the line of her body with a single finger. I hopped on the table, settling on my knees behind her. I grabbed the bottle of oil and squeezed it, letting the oil drip across her back. The drops spread like snakes, slithering into her hair and along her shoulders, down towards her breasts and into the splendid parting of her ass.
She gasped as I tucked my erection between her ass cheeks and leaned over her, caging her with my body and folding over her.
I allowed my hands to wander, to be guided by the slippery oil. I gilded over her slicked, naked skin, my chest slipped against her back as my hands flowed like a river around her body, the oil allowing my movements to run all over her unhindered.
I spread the oil with my palms, my chest, my cock, tracing the beautiful landscape of her body. My fingers tangled in her flesh, sinking into her flawless skin, flooding her senses. I spread the oil across every inch of her, of me. The oil made us one, moulding into one another like moving artwork, allowing me to slither against her.
She gasped and crooned at my touches. She was saturated with desire, flushed with need, fighting her restraints, wanting more, wanting me—I could tell in the desperate movements of her body, the way she pushed herself against me—wanting me inside her.
I moved back a fraction and she moaned her displeasure, throwing her head back, and my entire body stiffened.
My hands grabbed her hips, squaring them in front of me. I slid my fingers down to her wetness and she moaned against me, my hands froze as I brought my finger to the opening of her ass. She stilled. I could feel the squeeze as the tip of my finger touched the delicate, unbroken skin.
“Tell me not to Mia.” I rasped at her, anticipation coating my skin like the oil. She panted and remained silent
My other hand slipped to her wet pussy and began to circle in slow deliberate movements. She moaned and, with the delectable sound of her pleasure, the tip of my finger slipped into her ass. She sucked in a sharp breath at the intrusion.
“Relax Mia.” I used my right hand to stroke her swollen clit as the finger of my left hand slipped deeper into her ass, tight and frightened.
She gasped as my finger sunk in all the way. “Do you like that Mia?”
“Mm Mm.” She tried. Her hips already grinding against my hand.
I stilled my hands and she whimpered in protest trying to push against me, into me. I remained frozen, “Do you want a happy ending?”
“I do.” She begged with a rasping breath.
I did too.
My hand circled and rubbed her as she grated against me in desperation. It was beautiful and cruel watching her work so hard for her pleasure. My cock twitched and ached waiting to be inside her. Torture had two sides, two victims, but I knew this was the kind of pain we both wanted to endure; the pain that ended in exquisite unparalleled pleasure.
My finger sank in and out of her ass as she ground herself against my fingers, bringing herself closer to the edge—shaking, writhing, and thrashing until with a violent cry she smashed against me, breaking out in spasmodic vibrations, ecstasy dripping from her flushed and hungry body.
I pulled my fingers away then plunged my cock into her warm wet pussy, riding the waves of her ecstasy, allowing her to squeeze around me, pulling me in deeper, desperate, and harder until I too fell over the edge.
When I caught my breath, I slipped off her and stood by the table, watching as her body fell back to earth.
“Are you okay beautiful Mia?”
“Yes,” she whispered, giving me a radiant smile, “Can you untie me?” She pulled against the belt as if I had forgotten it was there.
“I could but I love seeing you like this, exposed, vulnerable, and utterly fucking devastating.” I captured her mouth in a kiss before she could protest then undid the belt buckle, setting her free.
I grabbed the towel and covered her ass, leaving her back exposed, “Lie down and finish your massage, I’ll shower and pack.”
“Pack?”
“Yeah, we’re going away tonight?”
“We are? Where?” Her curiosity ignited delight behind her eyes.
“It’s a surprise.”
She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but I was already making my way to the foyer to get the masseuse back.
Maybe it was because I knew she was about to climb on my bike for the first time, but seeing her walk towards me in her tight jeans and new black leather jacket lit desire so fierce that I had to dig my nails into my palms to ground myself.
Her glistening lips shone red in the evening light as she approached, her mouth breaking into an appetising smile. I handed her the new helmet, she tucked it under her arm and laced her hand into mine as I led her to the Harley.
I climbed onto the bike and waited for Mia to climb up behind me, her body moulding into mine as she wrapped her arms around me. The sensation foreign and pleasan,t a smile ripples across my face.
“Ready?”
She nodded and answered with a muffled yes.
I started the engine, enjoying the vibrations that sang inside me. I could feel Mia’s body coil tighter around me as I put the bike into gear and opened up the throttle. The bike jerked forward and we tore down the road. The world flew by us just outside our periphery. On the bike, we were in our own world, listening to the white noise around us as it fell under the roar of the engine and swung in the wind, turning into music. We bathed in the vulnerably, the exposure to the elements and the traffic. We were immune to the dullness of those cooped up in their four wheeled boxes, breathing stale air. We were exhilarated, traveling at rapturous speeds. Everything else simply fell away as I pushed the Harley to its limits, and we were flying three feet above the ground.
Every now and then Mia’s hold would get tighter and she squeezed herself closer, gluing her body to my own, setting me alight. Blood hammered in my veins as my heart sung in an unfamiliar tune.
The city fell away and the road was all that lay ahead. We rode and, for a split second, I felt that everything was going to be okay.
I turned into a side road, it was narrower and isolated and the engine seemed so much louder in the falling darkness. I followed the snaking road, arched by a canopy of trees their limbs folded above our heads, reaching for one another as if desperate to touch. I understood their need. The archway dimmed the light, sealing us in a long darkening tunnel. The thought made me quiver, and I opened the throttle emerging on the other side in front of a classical farmhouse.
The farmhouse was European in nature, maintaining all the sentimental qualities one comes to expect in a farmhouse of this size. The wooden cladding around the house painted white and glowing orange against the setting sun. A long porch surrounded the house and dormer windows in perfect symmetry gave the building a nostalgic feeling.
I stopped but did not turn off the engine. In the silence, the purr travelled further filling the very air with its intensity. I pulled off my helmet and we waited. Behind me, Mia fidgeted and looked around. I could feel her curiosity peak as her body moved and turned behind me, her helmet bumping
into the back of my head when she flung her head from side to side taking it all in. I could feel her growing tension, she wanted to know more. I smiled relishing in her reaction, her desires.
The front door opened and light spilt across the porch. A man walked out and approached us. He wore a worn pair of jeans and a T-shirt despite the chill in the air, and a large toe peaked out from one of his socked feet.
“Hello,” he smiled from beneath a thick moustache that crawled along his lip like a fat caterpillar, “You must be Gabriel.”
“Yes. Geoffrey?”
“Geoff is fine.” He extended his arm and we shook briefly. “Welcome,” he reached into the pockets of his jeans and produced a small bunch of keys and handed them over to me, “Just keep following the path and down to your left.”
“Thank you.”
“If you need anything, just call up to the main house.” His moustache wiggled as his smile stretched.
“Thank you.” I drove off, leaving the man standing in our wake.
The ride was short and almost leisurely. The breeze whipped my face, pushing the smell of manure and damp earth into my nose making my eyes tear.
I pulled up to a small unit. It seemed like a miniature copy of the larger house, having all the classic symmetry and twice the charm.
I switched off the engine and the world fell silent.
We climbed off the bike, and Mia pulled her helmet off eyeing the structure and spinning around taking in our surroundings. Her gaze shifted over to me.
“What are we doing here Gabriel?”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful here,” she looked up, a dusting of stars already scattered across the darkening sky. “So peaceful.”
I smiled and unlocked the door, holding it open for Mia as she stepped inside.
We were greeted by a small foyer where we dropped our helmets and slipped out of our shoes. The room opened up to a small sitting area with a single couch set in front of a fireplace which was already lit and colouring the interior a warm amber.
To the left was a kitchenette with a dining room table tucked against one wall, and to the right a single bed made up with dark sheets.
I stepped inside and dropped our backpack on the bed while Mia hurried to the fire place warming her back and hands.
“Do you like it?”
“I just love it,” she beamed with delight and my heart squeezed, joy leaking into my insides.
“Good. I wanted to do something special for your birthday.”
Mia’s cheeks flushed and she flashed me a row of white teeth, “I thought you already did that.” Her cheeks turned a deep crimson and she bit her lip, making my body tighten with the memory. Her eyes roamed the room, focusing on anything but me. “It is beautiful though, thank you. But dinner would have been enough.”
“Are you hungry?” I eyed her.
Mia bit her lower lip, “Ravenous.”
“Me too.” I growled.
She squealed when I lunged at her as she rounded the couch. I kept stalking her, and Mia giggled and danced and ran and shrieked as we played her game. She stepped to the right and I double stepped catching her, pinning her to the wall capturing her mouth in mine, crushing her body against my own.
The kiss was wild and hungry and left me wanting as I wrenched myself away and licked my lips, “Perhaps I’ll have you for dessert.”
Mia shivered at my words.
I entered the kitchen leaving Mia breathless and breathtaking against the wall.
She bit her lower lip and followed me, sitting onto the arm of the couch, “What are you doing?’
“Making you dinner.”
“He cooks?”
“He does.” I smirked.
“So many talents.” She threw at me.
I shrugged, “This is the first time I have ever cooked for anyone but myself, so I’ve never had my food judged before.” My core coiled with the gravity of my statement.
“Mmmm.” She played, pretending I said nothing at all, “Well then I’ll await my five star meal.”
“If that’s what you’re after, you’ll be waiting a very long time.”
She guffawed at my remark, “But I’m hungry.” She whined.
“I guess I’ll just have to do.”
Her eyes travelled along my face, down my torso and all the way down to my feet then back up again. Her face flushed and my heart thumped, “Guess you will.” Her mouth broke into a sweet smile and my core twisted and knotted.
I sucked in a long breath and concentrated on what I was doing. Mia was distracting me, and I had work to do.
It was never about the food. It was about making something for someone other than myself; it somehow felt big and important. I was sharing of myself, carving out chunks of my being and handing it to another human to partake. It was magnificent and scary as hell.
The bacon was crispy and the eggs were over easy. I lightly toasted the bread and chopped a few slices of tomato. I grabbed the bottle of wine from the fridge and poured her a glass, grabbing myself a beer. I placed our dinner on the dining room table and sat across from her.
I stared at her as she spread the egg yolk across her bread like butter then placed bacon on the slice and bit into the open sandwich. The toast crunched in her mouth and she purred and nodded as she chewed.
I raised an eyebrow waiting, my heart chugging in my chest.
“Jury is out.” She mocked, a sly grin spread across her lips.
I raised my beer, “Happy birthday Mia.” She clinked her glass against mine, and I took a long sip.
“I know it’s not much…” I started, but her hand landed on my own.
“Don’t. I love it,” she squeezed my hand, “You can ride a bike, fix broken things and cook. You’ll make an excellent husband one day.”
I coughed, choking on my beer, “Husband?” I cleared my throat.
“And father.”
She had a look in her eye, something I’d never seen before. She wanted more, she wanted a future. It scared me.
“I don’t want to be a father.” I grabbed my beer trying to drown out the sensation that was slowly climbing up my throat.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
The fire crackled around us as a heaviness settled with the silence.
Mia cleared her throat and tried again, “So how did you learn to cook so well? I mean you have all these world class chefs at your beck and call…”
“I wasn’t always as fortunate as I am now.” I winked at her and hoped she wouldn’t pry further. She knew my history, she knew about Alice and long days with an empty stomach. I wanted to celebrate, make her feel special and not rehash my past.
Talking to Mia often felt like walking a tightrope. Too many subjects were off limits—too much history, too much pain— neither of us wanted to think about. If we pushed or pulled too hard, one of us would wobble, feel off balance.
Neither of us was ready to fall.
We ate the rest of our meal in silence. Mia cleaned her plate with the last of her toast and sipped the rest of her wine, “That was delicious, thank you.” I topped up her drink and got up, clearing the table.
“He cleans up after himself too.”
The cutlery clunked as it crashed into the sink, “If you’d been paying attention while you stayed at the garage with me, you would have noticed it was always clean.”
She shrugged and sipped her wine, “I was too busy looking at other things.” She didn’t try to hide the huskiness of her voice as her eyes took a leisurely journey down and back up my body.
I smirked at the compliment and grabbed another beer. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I tipped my chin forwards and cocked an eyebrow. Stalking to the couch where she sat, her cheeks flushed as I slid next to her and looked into her eyes, “Some might say perfect.”
I sipped on my beer as she digested the word.
“You shouldn’t say that.”
“I can say wh
atever I want about you.”
“Stop putting me on a pedestal of perfection, you don’t know anything about me Gabriel.”
I locked eyes with her, “What I do know is that over the years I’ve developed a very particular taste. With Alice I didn’t get to have anything, but now with the amount of money I have, I tend to get the very best of everything. I don’t settle for second best, only the most precious, the most expensive, the most perfect.” I stretched out the word like elastic in my mouth, the T falling off the tip of my tongue with an iron clad certainty.
“Stops saying shit like that.”
“Why?”
“Cause I don’t like it.”
“Not good enough.”
“Drop it Gabriel.”
“Why?!” I demanded, my voice harsher than I meant.
“Because,” she looked at the red liquid in her glass, “When you say shit like that it makes me feel vulnerable, like you actually mean it.” She sipped on her wine and grabbed the bottle topping up her drained glass.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I am scared.” She looked at me, her jaw clenched.
“Why are you scared Mia?”
She took a long sip and sighed, “Because I love you, you asshole,” her eyes shot to mine and the entire world stopped for a singular magnificent second.
“You better say that again slowly.” I growled.
“You’re an asshole.” Her mouth stretched in a sly grin.
“Mia!”
“I love you.”
I sat, allowing her words to colour the grey of my life, to fill in the empty black corners with light and chase the cold away. I didn’t answer; not because I didn’t know to my core that I felt the very same, but because words are cheap and get thrown around like beads at Mardi Gras.
I have never been a man of many words but always of action, and I was going to show her with everything I had just how I felt; because actions scream so much louder than words, and my Mia would scream my name over and over until I finished with her.
“Say it again.” I purred at her as I slid closer, my mouth grazing the delicate skin of her ear.
“I love you.” She exhaled the words and I inhaled them, sucked them from her lips as my mouth smashed around hers.
Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3) Page 4