Captive in the storm
by Edward A. Stanbridge
Disclaimer: The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this short story are figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional. The following post contains explicit sexual situations and is not intended for a public under 18 years of age.
I was not sure to remember the road
correctly. Fortunately, I still had the address on my iPhone. How could people
live that far away from the city? I just didn’t get it, especially when my long-time
friend and business associate was concerned. Christopher Harrington was the quintessential
urbane businessman, elegant, sophisticated and as merciless as he was well-mannered.
Well, had been, because apparently he had developed a taste for the countryside.
I glanced at my businesslike attire, a charcoal grey knee-length pencil skirt
with a black silk blouse, and suddenly doubted that I was dressed for the
circumstances. It had seemed like a good idea in the morning because I was,
after all, on a business mission to pitch a new project proposal and that
particular attire emphasized my narrow waist and generous curves, but I was not so sure anymore
that it was adequate. Come on, Ally, now
is not the time to become self-conscious! I had to admit, however, that
when Christopher was concerned, I had always been a little unconfident.
As I drove up the mountain road, I
noticed that the property had been seriously groomed since the last time I’d seen
it. The 12th century castle had been on the verge of collapse when Christopher
had bought it with its 655 acres of land and dependences for almost nothing,
relatively speaking. It looked way better now than the ruin it had been two
years before. He was so passionate about that restoration that he’d spent almost
all his time on this project since, letting me run our real estate investment
firm on my own. We’d barely seen each other during the last year, even though
we talked on the phone at least twice a week and emailed regularly.
Six inches of fresh snow had come
down the previous night and were making the surroundings of the castle look like a
Christmas card. I drove up the alley, through the open gate house and parked my
black Mercedes SUV beside Christopher’s Range Rover in front of the main entrance.
Once inside the bailey, the castle seemed even bigger than I remembered. It was
quite impressive with its high stone walls and multiple towers. It crossed my
mind that those high steeples were undoubtedly a testament to his triumphant
virility. I couldn’t repress a snort.
Christopher had once said that he wanted
us to move in that castle together when it was going to be completed. I knew he
was not serious. For him I was just his associate and his friend, even when I
had finally given in to my long-time restrained desire for him just weeks
before he left the firm to take on that project. Christopher Harrington was not
the type of man who could be tied down. He was rich, gorgeous and women were
falling all over themselves for him. Humm!
I moaned inwardly as some flash memories of our best moments came to mind. Allison Cunningham, you don’t go
there!
I hit the doorbell and waited...
Half a minute later, the 20 foot wooden door opened and a man greeted me. It took
me what seemed like an eternity to process that it was Christopher. I could as
well have been looking at an alien and I wouldn’t have looked more confused. My god, I barely recognize him! He was
still very tall. Obviously, height tends
to remain fairly constant in most adult people! But he looked so different
than the man I was familiar with.
The Christopher I’d known since
college was always dressed in designer suits, even when he visited a
construction site. His hair was always cut to perfection every three weeks, his
hands manicured and every part of his sumptuous body groomed with so much
attention that if he had not been such a womanizer, one could have suspected
that he was gay.
The man in front of me had not had a
haircut in months. His shiny dark hair was falling across his forehead almost
to his eyes. He was clad in worn out jeans, a white t-shirt and black
leather boots. If one had to identify this man, billionaire real estate
investor would’ve most likely come last. He looked like a bad boy from the
wrong side of the track, sexy as sin. His steel blue eyes were still as enticing and
that mouth, oh that mouth…
Christopher seemed genuinely happy
to see me. Or is he happy to show me that
he nailed this almost impossible reconstruction project all by himself and that
he is doing so much better without me? Maybe it’s a little bit of both.
“Allison, I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
“Excuse me. I’m looking for
Christopher Harrington, the man who has his boxer briefs pressed.”
He flashed his signature two thousand
mega watts smile and my heart stopped for a nanosecond.
“I think we lost him during the
renovation, someone must have chained him down in the dungeon.”
“He probably enjoys it. I’ve heard
that he’s one helluva kinky bastard.”
He laughed.
I was taken off guard when he moved
towards me and gave me a hug, but I didn’t show it. He smelled good, a very
masculine smell, subtle, raw and carnal. I didn’t know what it was, but it was
distracting. I had to remember to keep a safe distance between us if I didn’t
want that smell to disturb me. There were two things in men that had a direct
effect on my groin without any possible brain filter: their smell and the sound
of their voice. Since Christopher’s low baritone voice was one of the first
thing that had made my knee weak when we had first met, I had to remain careful.
“The roads were good?” That brought
me back from my reverie.
“Not bad.”
“I was worried that you may not make
it, with that snow.” Come on, I’m from
Canada! I failed to say, though I never really lived there.
“I can manage a little snow,” I added,
matter-of-factly while giving him my coat.
I took my boots off. As I retrieved my
patent leather Louboutin heels from the shoe bag, I heard him gasp and couldn’t
repress a satisfactory smile. I’d brought them along knowing his predilection
for fancy women’s footwear. It somehow made me feel more confident in front of
him to be dressed at my best. That was why I’d put on my sexiest French lingerie
this morning. In black. Not that he would see it, but it made me feel good. It
was a bit silly, really, because I was a rather confidante thirty years old
woman, I should not have needed racy underwear to feel better about myself.
Chris and I had started with nothing and built a quite impressive real estate
empire out of hard work and killer business sense. I was every bit as rich as
he was.
“Let me give you the grand tour,” he
said, tugging my hand.
The touch of his warm skin created a
delicious tingling at the apex of my thighs.
The main hall was absolutely
impressive. The ceiling must have been of at least forty feet high and a massive
stone staircase was rising to the second and third floor mezzanines. The room was
lighted by five colossal medieval-looking chandeliers, but the natural light was
allowed to come in by the work-of-art stained glass ceiling. The décor was a
reminder of King Arthur’s legends, but with all the comfort of modern life.
“All the floors have a radiant
heating system that is powered by a geothermal system we built under the old Chapel,”
he said. “We have solar panels on the roof that produce more electricity than
we need.” We?
I recognized his
obsession with everything eco-friendly as well as his fascination with all things
medieval. This place looked like a big rich kid’s playground with armors
standing in one corner and swords hanging on the wall.
He then took me to the kitchen,
undoubtedly the largest I’d ever seen. Everything was custom made for this
remarkable space. The island itself must have been the size of many people’s
master bedroom. The maple wood cabinets were stained with a light shade of grey
enhanced by a darker patina effect and the granite slab on top of it must have cost
more than the average house. There were two very big built-in subzero fridges
and two enormous Viking gas ranges. This kitchen was every gourmet’s dream and
I must admit that I was a tad envious. No,
I’m very envious.
“You don’t even cook!”
He leaned against the island. His strong
arms crossed.
“I know, but maybe I’ll find someone
who likes to, someday.”
I shot him a WTF look.
“Who are you? And what have you done
with my friend, Mr. I’ll-never-settle-down-even-if-my-life-depends-on-it
Harrington?”
“People change, Ally.”
His cryptic
answer caused a burning sensation in my throat and set my imagination into
overdrive. Has he met someone who changed
the game? Why do I hate the thought of it so much? He had always been such
a player. I never really minded that he had tons of women, but the thought of
him committing to one was physically painful.
“I thought we could make sushi for
dinner, if you can stay. I have a salmon I caught on my last fishing trip that
will make your toes curl.”
I can think of other things that would make my toes curl... Okay, the
guy is sex on a stick, you knew it before coming here, get that out of your
mind!
“Humm,” I moaned. “If you take me by
the sentiments...”
“Great! C’mon There are other rooms
I want to show you.”
I followed him around from a three-story-high
library the size of a cathedral, crowded with first editions and rare books to several
other rooms, all of them vast and high with exposed stone walls in soft creamy
tones. The apparent coldness of the place was warmed by the dark wood and
leather furniture, Persian rugs and tastefully chosen artwork. We eventually
reached a sumptuous dining room that looked more like a banquet hall.
“We can work here if you like”, he
said. “We will have more place than in my office.”
“No problem, I’ll go get my
portfolio.”
“No, no, stay here and relax, I’ll
go. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.” He winked.
One of my contacts at the City Hall had
informed me that an historical building Chris and I had always loved would soon
be put on the market because the city no longer wanted to invest in its restoration.
Well, actually, they had never invested a dime on it and that was the reason why
it was starting to fall apart. I was sure that we could make an extraordinary
luxury hotel out of it. To be totally honest, I wanted Chris do this project with
me because I missed working with him. I missed his matter-of-fact way of
thinking combined with his tremendous capacity for artistic creation and his unbelievable
charisma. All at once in the same person made him not only a highly valuable
asset to our business association, but it was also one of many things that had made
me fall in love with him in the first place. A long time ago…
I sat at the table and looked
around, appreciating the grandeur of the space. This castle had really turned
out to be a dream home, but it seemed so big for a single man. Maybe he’s not alone. The tightening
sensation in my chest returned as I envisioned him here with kids running
around and a beautiful wife with who he would be madly in love and who would
not be me.
Chris came back with my portfolio and a bottle of Ace of spades
champagne rosé, my favorite, unmistakable by its shiny opaque pink bottle.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Many things. For one, I nailed down
this reno.” He handed me a flute of sparkling pink elixir.
“Absolutely, this place is
fabulous.” I lifted my glass in his direction.
His resulting smile was heart-warming.
He brought his glass to mine and looked into my eyes. I swallowed.
“And more importantly, the most
significant person in my life is here to see it,” he said with a seductive
tone.
My heart skipped a beat, but I
quickly reminded myself that he did that kind of thing all the time. He pretended
that I was more to him than a friend because he knew that I was never gonna
fall in love with him; at least it was what I’d led him to believe for as long
as we’d known each other. I’d seen enough of this type of guys to know for a
fact that if I ever declared my true feelings to him he would run to the hills.
So, I was better off playing it down.
“Yeah, sit your ass on this chair so
we can get down to business.” I bent to retrieve my portfolio and took out the
folders I had carefully prepared.
“Yes Mam,” he said mockingly,
sitting his splendid posterior on the deep red velvet of the heavy carved wood
chair. “Besides, I still have to show you the dungeon.” He raised both eyebrows
suggestively.
***
We worked tirelessly for hours. I
exposed him my project and showed him the sketches I’d done the previous day as
well as the numbers I’d crunched, but as we were getting closer to dinner time,
my mind was starting to derail. I was flushed, my heart beat like crazy and I
wouldn’t have been surprised if he could have smelled how turned on I was from
the other side of the table. Was it the champagne? Our heated discussion? His
low sexy voice? Or that smell? Oh, get a
grip; you’ve known the man forever, for crying out loud! I had not been
that turned on the last time I had had (non-Christopher) sex and it had
actually been pretty decent, if not memorable. I must find a retreat to get my senses back together. Bathroom!
Finally alone in the nearest powder
room to the kitchen, I leaned against the door with my hands on my forehead and took
a few deep breaths to calm down. This was
such a BAD idea! What on earth made
me think that I was no longer attracted to this man? And why does my treasonous
body choose this moment to light up around him? I should have left, I knew
it. I didn’t want him to notice my emotions, but I’d just told him that I would
stay for dinner and I was famished. I can
behave, for Christ’s sake!
The last thing I wanted was to end
up in bed with Christopher. I’d sworn to myself not to be that kind of bitch (more to myself than to him)
anymore and my intentions had been, huh, were sincere. That would jeopardize our friendship and I would end up losing him.
What makes you think Christopher wants
you anyway? That’s right; it’s just
my crazy libido going into overdrive! Maybe
I should just go out tonight and jump the bones of the first available hunk.
That would put my mind off him, at least for a couple of hours. I washed my
hands, took a deep breath to regain some composure and I went back to the
kitchen, resolute to maintain my respectability.
***
Christopher had started to cook the
rice for the sushi and was busy with the salmon. We had been throwing a lot of
sushi parties with our friends back in the time when we were all too poor to
afford going out to a fancy restaurant. We used to prepare all the stuff and
then everyone in turn was making a sushi for himself and the others to taste
and so on until we couldn’t eat anymore. I suddenly missed that period when
things seemed a lot less complicated.
A
smooth jazz music was filling the air and our glasses of champagne had been
brought along. I took care of the vegetables, cutting the green onions stems to
the right size, peeling the avocado and slicing it a quarter inch thick, peeling
a mango and cutting it to small sticks. I looked at him, concentrated on his
task. He skillfully removed the skin and finely cut the filet with a chef’s
knife. I took the opportunity to admire his dexterity. It was a bit unexpected,
for he had such a strong muscular frame. One would assume that he would have been
better at building a wall with a hammer than in the kitchen, but it was one of
his many talents.
I went to the sink and started to
wash a few lettuce leafs when he came behind me. He didn’t touch me but the
heat of his body radiated to mine and my heartbeat dramatically spiked.
“Excuse me, I have to wash the blade,”
he said close to my ear, his voice smooth and low.
My mouth dried instantly.
“Don’t move,” he whispered.
I brought my hands closer to me to
clear the lettuce from the sink. His arms encircled me. He squirted some
dishwashing liquid on the blade and slowly stroked it between his thumb and
forefinger, up and down... Oh shit!
All the muscles of my body clenched
at once and I stopped breathing. Why is
it so erotic? I could feel his breath at the back of my ear; it was getting
shorter, heated. Why is he doing that?
I couldn’t believe he would try to seduce me, not after all this time; after
all we’d been through. Why didn’t you do
that two years ago! Maybe it’s
because I’ve made myself so inaccessible, then. He moved forward to rinse
the blade under the running water so my back was leaning against his broad
chest. Oh please!
“There,” he said when he finished.
He picked up the towel beside me and
took a step backward, breaking contact. I turned around to face him; his eyes were
blazing steel blue, his expression intense. For a split second I thought he was
going to kiss me, but he smirked. The
bastard, he knows exactly what he is doing! I chose to ignore him and go
back to my task. He was playing with me. Isn’t
it totally inappropriate? Every time I was looking at him, he seemed to
feel it and our eyes locked. I tried to look unaffected, but probably failed
miserably.
***
Everything was finally ready to roll.
Christopher had put the rice outside so it would cool down more quickly. I was honestly
considering joining it! He brought it back with a bottle of Pouilly Fumé, the
best wine for sushi in my opinion. Its fresh, crisp citrus notes cut the
alkalinity of the fish. The mineral spicy silex taste is characteristic of the
region. It comes from the soil, a sympathetic winemaker from the small town had
once explained to me.
“Do you want to go first,” he asked,
his eyes burning into mine.
“It’s been a long time.” I tried not
to lick my lips.
“For me too.” I got the feeling that
we were not talking about fish anymore.
I took a sip of wine to wet my mouth
and I said.
“Ok, I’ll go first.”
He laughed.
“Fearless as ever.”
“Yeah, I’ll show you!”
I took my first nori sheet and cut
it in half so it would only make four pieces of the same. I spread the rice on
the seaweed and put some salmon, green onions, cream cheese, lettuce and some
flying fish roe. I didn’t want to put too much stuff in it, because it would be
much harder to roll and to eat. I managed to roll it pretty adequately and I
put my right index in the small bowl of water with rice vinegar, than wetted
the remaining 1 inch of nori and rolled it completely so the wet part stuck to
the roll to seal it. Then, I pressed it firmly, forming it with both hands.
“You know, it’s quite fascinating to
see you handle that maki roll.” Where is
he going with that?
I put the tip on the chef’s knife in
the water, lifted it up, let the drop go down the sharp edge of the blade and
cut the roll in four pieces.
“My turn,” he said, putting his hands on my
hips.
I gaped. He moved me aside from the “sushi station” and took my place. I
leaned against the island to watch him. He made some salmon, shrimp and tuna
nigris. Then we alternated for a few more makis. When the plate was completed,
I took it to place it in the fridge. I bent down to put the plate on the bottom
shelf since it was the only place where there was room available.
When I got back up, I felt him
behind me and the electricity crackled in the air. I closed the door. My blood
rushed through my veins and I felt all my senses in alert. I could smell him. I
could feel him, his heat surrounding me. I took a deep breath and turned to
face him. He had the same expression that he had before, after our sink
encounter. I thought that he would end it the same way, but he didn’t.
We stared in each other’s eyes and the connection was there, beyond intense. I was
literally shaking, overwhelmed by all the emotions that I felt for him. Oh my god! How could I stay away from him
for so long?
I blinked and when I opened my eyes,
his mouth was on mine. My surprise only lasted a split second before desire
overflowed and destroyed my last attempt to resist him. I opened my mouth and
his tongue reached mine. Every muscle of my lower body tightened as one of his hand
fisted in my hair while the other fell along my curves from my back to my waist
to my ass and down my thigh. I noticed his attempt to lift my skirt, but his
tongue stroking mine was all that mattered. He grabbed the material in his hand
until he reached the hem, then I felt his hand on my fine silk stockings. It went
up and his kiss became more insistent as he reached my skin. He was seriously
turned on and I was so wet already; I could have dripped on the
floor! He ran his hand to my naked butt cheek and placated me to the stainless
steel panel, pressing his growing erection to my lower belly. Humm!
I was trapped, I couldn’t move. He was
going to fuck me right here, by the fridge. My mind was completely lost between
that thick and heavy desire burning throughout my body and the fear that this
moment might blow up the rest of my life. Don’t
overthink that. You want him, he wants you, you have sex and that’s all,
everybody goes back to where they were before, period.
Christopher inserted two fingers in
my panties to caress my sex. A feral groan, low in his throat resonated through
my chest as his fingers felt my arousal. He sank them inside me while his thumb
stroked against my clit, hard and a sharp pleasure radiated to every nerve
endings of my shameless body. Oh, my god,
I’m going to come! Already! My
body won hands down his battle with my consciousness. I lost all sense of
reality. I was his to do whatever he pleased. His tongue stroked mine in the
most sexual kiss I’d ever received while he pleased me with his hand. I felt
surrounded by him, besieged and the feeling was exquisite. I surrendered in his
arms as the pulsation in my sex radiated through my body and my orgasm washed
over all the sexual tension of the day in delightful waves.
The next thing I knew, he slammed
into me. Aaahhh! The last part of my
brain that was not completely overridden by the tide of sensations wondered how
he had gotten out of his pants, but right now, I couldn’t care less. The
feeling was out of this world, borderline between pleasure and pain. Christopher was at
the highest end of what my body was able to accommodate in terms of magnitude. How could I possibly stop having sex with
this man, ever? I was not used to have something this huge inside me
anymore. Christopher was in a league of his own, is large muscular body was in
perfect acquaintance with his impressive erection.
I had both legs strapped around him,
my hands holding his shoulders firmly, my heels probably scratching his gorgeous
ass. He was pushing me against the fridge, thrusting in my wet swollen flesh. I
could feel the cold metal of the appliance on my back, the heat of his hard
cock between my legs, the pressure, the fullness and the shock. Every time he
shoved his conquering manhood into me, it lifted me up, then my body moved down
a few inches when he pulled out and he crashed into me again before I reached
my low, amplifying the effect at every plunge. I pushed my hips forward to feel
even more, meeting him. I wanted him to my core.
He was thrusting into me, so hard that I cried
out at every push. He was not holding anything back. This was not just a fuck,
this was what? Punishment? Vengeance? He is going to rip me apart! I was
losing my mind. I was so close again and it had only been a few minutes. All my
thoughts disappeared. This was just him and me, the slap of his balls on my
ass, our erratic breaths, my moaning and his groaning. This was so good. All my
body tensed and I started to quiver. The blast spread from my sex to my belly
to every part of my body and my orgasm exploded around him. He was so big that every
pulse around his cock made me cry with pleasure. I grasped his shoulders, my
nails digging in his t-shirt and probably his skin too.
My orgasm went on and on. I whimpered
and trembled, voicing my ecstasy. He was thrusting into me harder and harder.
This was absolutely mind-blowing. I was still convulsing when he pushed into me
once more and stilled, crying out a primal, carnal lament as he spilled into
me, struck by a violent orgasm.
When I regained consciousness, I
noticed that we had dropped to the floor. He had gotten down on his knees. My
legs were not wrapped around him anymore. I was kneeling astride him. We were
damp and exhausted after the storm that had blasted us. Fortunately, the fridge
was built in the wall. I don’t think a regular piece of equipment would have
gone through this scene without creating a gigantic mess.
This had definitely been one of the
greatest outbursts of passion that I ever had. I was still panting and would
not even have been able state my name if asked to. My brain was out of
function, shorted by pleasure overload. The mix of emotion and tension release was
too much to take and tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t repress a sob. Oh no!
“Ally, I’m sorry,” he said tenderly.
“Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head as I hugged him,
unable to speak. He hugged me back, caressing my hair.
“I’m so sorry, I lost it.” He rocked
me gently. Oh boy, I lost it too!
I finally calmed down. My breathing
became more regular.
“It was so intense,” I finally
managed to say against his shoulder.“I missed you.”
I immediately regretted
my display of emotion. But I had to admit that I had missed him a lot more than
I had ever thought possible.
“I missed you too.”
I held him tighter as we both rocked
slowly, lost in our own world. A part of me was happy that he had missed me,
but my left brain kicked in and I started to realize the possible implications
of what we had just done. Oh shit, I’m in
trouble!
Slowly, I became aware that he was
still inside me and that his erection was halfway back. I could feel him
growing longer and thicker. That distracted me from my rational thoughts. I felt
desire flaming back inside. Oh yes, I
want you again!
With my head still on his shoulder,
I kissed his neck, then up to his ear. He was getting harder. I gently sucked his
earlobe. He moaned and picked up the rhythm slightly. I almost imperceptibly
moved my hips forward and backward to feel him more. I trailed kisses along his
jaw and found his mouth. My hand in his hair, I kissed him passionately. His
tongue met mine with eagerness. Oh yes,
this is so good! I was building up already, marveling at the sensation of fullness.
He stopped. No! What? I was panting. Needing.
He gently caressed my face and looked
me in the eyes.
“Not here,” he said feverishly,
with that feral low voice. “I want you in my bed.”
His eyes were shining a dark heated
blue. I think we were perfectly okay on
the floor or anywhere else for that matter. Right now, I would have taken
him in a dump truck if it had been the only place available!
“We are not teenagers anymore.” He
eased out of me and rose up nimbly.
I stayed on the floor for a few
seconds just to look at him, half naked with his awe inspiring erection pointed
towards me.
“You are in great shape,” I said,
looking appreciatively, lustfully, from his face to his rigid cock and back to
his eyes as desire rushed to my groin again.
Not letting him the time to pull
up his jeans, I grabbed him in my hand and stroked him, helped by the
lubrication provided by of our mixed body fluids. I ran my tongue up and down
his length, following the movement of my hand.
“Oh fuck, Ally,” he groaned.
I took him in my mouth, the salty
taste and the musky smell turning me on even more. I sucked him hard, while
working my hand on him. He was instantly hard as steel. I felt the engorged veins on my
tongue and the taste of his precum as I increased the pace.
“Oh shit, baby, nobody sucks me like
you do.”
As I swirled my tongue around the
head of his cock, the edge of his corona became harder and I knew that he was
getting close. He was panting hard, his length quivering in my hand. Right now,
I was the one with the power. I moaned to let him feel how much I enjoyed it
and the sound vibrated on his cock.
“Oh, fuck!”
Suddenly, he filled my mouth so
forcefully I almost choked and I took every drop of it. I didn’t let him go
until his cock stopped jerking and I had sucked him completely dry. I sat back
on my legs and watched him as he came back to his senses. He was so handsome,
so sexual, so exactly what I need to feel satisfied. Life is so unfair. He gave me both his hands and raised me to my
feet. He put his jeans back up while I straightened my ruffled skirt. He didn’t
speak and I started feeling ill at ease. Oh
shit, I’ve ruined everything! He probably wanted me to get the fuck out of
his sight now that he had emptied himself and I didn’t want to give him the
opportunity to reject me. I looked away from him and started talking way too
fast.
“Well, thanks for the tour and
everything. That was –hum- interesting, but I have to go now. I’ll keep you
posted on the project and...”
He grabbed my shoulder firmly and
his lips crashed on mine, effectively silencing me. One of his hands was at my
nape while the other smashed me to his chest. He forced his tongue in my mouth
and all I could do was surrender to his will and the pleasure of his taste. I started
to wonder if he was going to take me again. At this moment, there was nothing I
wanted more than to have him inside me, even if it was just prolonging a pipe
dream that I had been nursing for way too long. What the hell is going on with him, I’ve never seen him like that.
When he released me, I was out of
breath and my legs were shaking.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he
growled. “I’m nowhere near finished with you.” His jaw was tense and his eyes were
flashing a dangerous shade of blue.
Everything in his expression was menacing and I shivered,
part alarmed that he seemed so possessive all of a sudden, but mostly excited
by the possibilities underneath those words.
He took me in his arms and tenderly
smoothed the unruly strands of my hair while I wrapped my arms around him and
rested my head against his strong muscular chest, listening to his regular
heartbeat. I inhaled his scent like it was the last puff of oxygen in the
universe. I could’ve stayed like that forever. This is gonna hurt so much more this time...
“It started snowing again,” he said
softly. “Please stay. The roads will be dangerous tonight.”
I should’ve felt relieved that he
just wanted me to stay because he was concerned with my safety and didn’t seem
to intend on sequestering me in his dungeon as a sexual slave. Why do I feel as if someone had just died?
“Do you mind if we eat in the main
hall? I had Lancaster light the fireplace while we were cooking.”
I hastily pushed away from his
embrace. “There are other people here?”
“Sure, I don’t take care of this
place all by myself.”
“Are you crazy? We just had sex in
the middle of the kitchen!”
“So?” He raised one eyebrow.
“So,” I almost shouted. “Jesus H.
Christ, are you totally insane? What if one of your employees had walked on
us?” As I said it, I realized that they had probably walked on much, much
worst.
He looked amused.
“Ally, there’s no one else here. I've
sent everyone off for the week-end and I told Lancaster that he could retreat to
his apartments after lighting up the fireplace.” He took a step in my direction
and a seductive smile traced on his lips.
“Besides, that could have given him
some ideas to warm up Mrs Lancaster, don’t you think?”
“You’re impossible,” I
sighed, shaking my head.
I left him for a few minutes to
freshen up in the nearby powder room. As I walked, I could feel his semen
wetting my panties. Oh shit, this is so arousing.
Every muscle south of my waist pulsed deliciously. I
can’t wait to feel him again! I glanced at myself in the mirror. That was
one horny creature; tousled hair, open cleavage, smudged eyes (thanks to the
waterproof makeup!), plumped lips, swollen by his less than delicate kissing. This
man could turn me into a sexual beast just by looking into my eyes. The list of
the things I would have liked to do to him was endless. He had asked me to
stay, if only for my safety and I resolved to make the most out of the last
night I would ever spend with him...
To be continued...
