"Please bury that wonderfully hot, hard, cock inside me, darling. I am so wet for you right now that I think I'll explode with the first stroke. I need you to slam into me so hard. If you let me come, I'll let you have anal every day for the next week..."
She didn't need to say any more than that. My body was already tormented beyond belief, and promises like that were kerosene on a city-wide blaze. Rocking her body underneath me, I gradually increased the pace of our lovemaking until I really was slamming into her, over and over again - and it felt utterly incredible. She was so tight, wet, and utterly perfect in every way. But she had been wrong about one thing. Jen came on stroke nine, and I let her ride that out for a good five minutes or so. That's the kind of considerate, caring guy I am.
After we'd finished our epic sex session, Jen promptly fell asleep on me. Admittedly the day's antics must have exhausted her, but honestly, where was the chitchat all these women wanted? Here I was, bright as a button, and all I had was snores for company. Mind you, perhaps that was my reward for a job well done; peace and quiet. I smiled to myself and cuddled up close to my wife, who mumbled something or other unintelligible. Probably keep your hands away from me you bastard or some such nonsense. Too bad, because that wasn't happening anytime soon.
When her breathing had softened to a barely audible whisper, I felt it was safe to creep out of the bedroom and grab myself a much-needed glass of water. Being the gentleman that I am, I also brought one back for her. She'd need it in the morning.
Looking at my watch, I wondered if I could call Khalil, or whether it had better wait until morning. It was just after one a.m., so I figured I had better wait. Although it was kind of an emergency a few hours would make no difference, and Khalil would probably need all the sleep he could get when faced with this new problem. Damnit. Where had Kyle come from? And where was Redcliff hiding? I very much doubted the old man would be in the UK. He would be in a sunny beach location, living it up without a care in the world. When I got my hands on him...
Sighing, I did my best to put all the drama out of my head. Right now, I just wanted to lay my head down somewhere soft, and preferably somewhere within inches of my wife's. Creeping back between the covers, to a somewhat rumpled, if not wonderfully warm bed, I pulled Jennifer's body back into mine. Sinking into a deep and dreamless sleep, I thanked God and anyone who would listen that I still had my wife beside me.
"What do you think?" The clock above my office desk said the time was approaching ten a.m., and I'd been chasing calls all morning. Most of them were work related, but I'd finally got through to Khalil, and I desperately wanted his opinion on Kyle's antics last night. Relaying the story that Jennifer had told me, doing my best to leave nothing out, I was met with silence until I'd finished. That unnerved me. It meant he was worried.
"I think Kyle's playing with you, and I think you already know this." There was more silence. Trust Khalil to hit the nail on the head first time.
I sighed. "He never really meant to abduct her last night, did he? It was a scare tactic. If he'd wanted to take her he had ample opportunity to do so earlier, so why mess about?" This confirmed my suspicions.
"Exactly. He wanted to prove that he could do it, and he wanted to toy with you a little. I think he's planning something else." Khalil did not sound happy.
"Anyone planning to kidnap someone in a bright red Tesla isn't really thinking ahead. Was it ever found by the way?"
"No, but it was recorded stolen. It was an impressive theft by all accounts, too. You don't break into one of those on a whim." This was another statement from Kyle. He had money and brains behind him.
"But how the hell did he know where we'd be?" The guest list at Escape was encrypted for a reason because no one wanted that kind of information to become common knowledge. Some of us didn't mind disclosing our identities, but the majority preferred to remain incognito.
"Either he has someone watching your place, there's a hacker in his midst, or he knows someone on the inside. Could be a combination of any of those, too."
"No car can get close to this house, so he can't be watching our comings and goings." The thought made my blood go cold. Just supposing he was, it would only be a matter of time before he went for my wife a second time.
"He doesn't have to watch your house, and this isn't some cop show where all they do is stakeouts. These days you just have to install a hidden camera somewhere or make sure the exit roads to your property are monitored. It's going to be relatively obvious if it's you. Your Mercedes would be quite easy to spot." Fuck. I hadn't considered that.
"How can I find out if he's done that?"
"You want me to send a team out to check?"
"Yes." Right now, if possible, although I didn't add that. Khalil had my back, and he'd be on it as quick as was humanly possible. The thought of that bastard keeping his beady eyes on my wife's whereabouts made me physically ill.
Putting my hands over my mouth, I sucked in a deep breath and tried to process all this.
"You'd be surprised at how easy it is. Modern technology has come a long way in the last twenty years or so. You can plant GPS tech on virtually anything, and you'd never notice it was there unless you were looking for it. Make sure you check through everything she was wearing last night."
"Already taken care of. All of it is in the bin." Well, bar the red dress, and that was going in the bin now I'd torn it to shreds. Madge would not be amused.
"I'd advise you to keep her close for the next couple of weeks. From what I've discovered, Mr Levison is not a patient man. He won't want to wait to execute his plan. The longer you thwart him, the more likely it is that he'll make a mistake - and that's when we'll catch him."
"We'll get him, " I said, with more conviction than I felt.
"Yes." Khalil did not sound convinced either, and that was very bad news indeed.
Chapter Seventeen - Jennifer
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."
Mark chose that moment to enter the room, and I knew my spanking tally was about to hit astronomical numbers. Giving me one of his darkest looks, he said, "Right young lady, no sex for you for the next week."
"You'll suffer more than me," I fired straight back. Wriggling into a bright orange skater dress with a flared skirt, I checked my reflection in the mirror. It would do. I looked a bit worse for wear, and Mark hadn't let me have a lot of sleep last night, but on the plus side I was still in one piece, and there was a lot to be said for that. Unfortunately, after mum had learned about the recent incident at Escape, she immediately called to inform me she would be straight over. This was bad. Usually I went to see her, as there was still some friction between her and my husband, but today that had been taken out of my hands.
"I'll have you know I can go a week without sex." He couldn't.
"Fine. We'll do a week of domination, and you can wear a chastity belt for me. You'll be crying within a day." That was no word of a lie, either.
"Young lady..." His face darkened further, into the ice cold dominant expression I knew and loved, but we didn't have time for that right now.
"Mum's coming over." Mark's jaw opened in shock.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." Interestingly, we shared the same sentiment but for entirely different reasons.
"No sex for you for a week, either," I said, grinning.
"Why's she coming here?" Mark hissed. His fingers were now in his hair, and it was clear he was agitated. Poor baby.
"To check I'm still alive." Putting a bright slash of peach lipstick on my lips and plenty of blusher on my cheeks, I did my best to try and look the picture of health. I felt anything but. And after all the spankings yesterday, I'd be lucky not to wince when I sat down.
"Oh, Christ. Maybe I could dash into town for a little while and give you guys some time to catch up?" Mark looked hopeful, as well he might. There was then a loud and persistent knock at the front door. "Is that her?" His face was aghast, and it would have been comical if I'd had mo
re sleep. I nodded. "How is that possible?"
"She texted me five minutes ago to say she was in the area. She's worried."
"Fuck."
"Go and answer the door."
"You go and answer the door."
"What happens if it's Kyle?"
"Kyle is not going to knock on our front door."
"Fine, I'll go and answer the door."
"No, I'll do it." It was nice to see my husband's protective side won out, even against the mother-in-law. Following quickly in his footsteps, I crossed my fingers behind my back and hoped this meeting wasn't going to be the disaster it usually was.
When Mark got to the front door he winced at the camera that depicted it was indeed his mother-in-law, and even worse, she had a face like thunder. Opening the door cautiously he said, "Good morning, Laurel," but he might as well have saved his breath because she waltzed straight past him, without even looking in his direction.
"Jennifer, thank God you're okay." She kissed me once on each cheek, and I followed her into the lounge.
"Did you want some tea or coffee, mum?"
"Tea, please. Only dreadful Americans drink that coffee rubbish." Mark stuck his tongue out at her back and glowered. I resisted the urge to laugh.
"Mark, darling, would you mind?" I asked in my sweetest voice.
"Absolutely, darling," he said in an equally saccharine tone. He looked relieved that he was escaping for a while, though, and I suspected we weren't going to get our drinks anytime soon.
Taking off her black leather gloves and chiffon scarf, mum placed them neatly in her Dior handbag. Leaning towards me, she then said, "Are you sure you want to remain married to that man, darling? We can soon sort out a divorce if you need one." My mother was still not convinced Mark was the man for me. Although I'd been doing my damndest to tell her he was, the message hadn't sunk home for some reason.
"I'm quite attached to him now, Mum. He really is adorable when you get to know him. You should give him a chance." My mother frowned and looked unconvinced.
"He put you in danger yet again last night. What were you thinking of going back to that awful place?" The arched angle of her eyebrow suggested she knew exactly what went on in Escape, and knowing her contacts, there was a good chance that she did.
"Kyle's been out of the picture for over a year now, we thought the danger had passed," I said defensively.
"It hasn't, although you're safe for today at least. I have it on official authority that the man is out of the country. He left early hours this morning."
My breath whistled out in a rush. "Thank God for that. Now what?"
"We keep you safe."
Mark chose that moment to enter with a tray full of drinks, and after setting them down carefully on the coffee table, he began pouring the tea for both of us. "Milk or sugar?" he enquired.
"Just milk," my mother barked, obviously put out to have to talk to him. Seriously, what was their problem?
"You're sweet enough as it is? I should have figured that out for myself." Mark was being obnoxious, but I wasn't about to draw attention to the fact, or he would act ten times worse for the sheer hell of it. Handing out our drinks, he grabbed his espresso and sat in the corner, as far away from my mother as he could manage.
"What are you drinking?" Laurel's eyes narrowed in on him as she took in the tiny cup suspiciously.
"Coffee, of course. Apparently, I'm one of those dreadful Americans you so despise. Cheers." He raised his cup and gave her a malicious grin. Here we go again, I thought. World war three was about to kick off, and I would be right in the middle of it.
"Stop it you two," I said angrily. "Have either of you figured out how to get in contact with Michael? Kyle's his lapdog, so if we can talk to him we might be able to solve this." Mum gave me a swift shake of the head. Mark also held his hands up in defeat.
"I am not going to remain a prisoner in this house forever," I stated mutinously, putting my cup down and crossing my arms over my chest.
"You will do whatever you're told," said my mother, and Mark piped up with something similar in the background. I could have screamed. "I have my people on it, and we'll figure out something very shortly. For now, you just have to do as you're told."
Mark snorted. "You obviously don't know your daughter very well. She finds it nearly impossible to do anything she's told."
"I think you'll find I've been exceptionally good this week and intend to be for the remainder of it," I remarked casually, giving my husband a sly wink. My mother looked at us both, wondering what the hell the inside joke was, and we sobered up abruptly.
"What do you recommend we do, Laurel?" Mark was trying his best, I'd give him that. He'd made an effort to speak to Laurel twice, and that was more than he usually did. Unfortunately, my mother ignored him.
Turning to me, she said, "I think we need to keep you under twenty-four-hour surveillance until we can get a location on Kyle. We monitor all roads coming in and out of the estate, and if you do need to go out in an emergency, you need a security detail of at least three men. I'll send mine over."
"Mine are perfectly adequate. If they can guard British diplomats they are more than equipped to ensure Jennifer's safety." Mark's voice was terse. My mother was trying to tell him that his men weren't good enough, and Mark was not going to take that lightly.
"You will use mine. Otherwise, there will be consequences."
What kind of consequences? I looked nervously from one to the other and wondered what the hell they were playing at now.
"So shoot me. I am not going to bow down to you. Jennifer is my wife, and I take it as my personal responsibility to take care of her. As it happens, it's a job I take very seriously, and Jennifer will happily tell you that."
I nodded quickly and pleaded inwardly for them both to stop fighting. Nothing good would come of this.
"I disagree. A mother and daughter have a more open and honest relationship. It's important to be frank with one another when lives ride in the balance. There can be no room for error or lies." I didn't miss the emphasis on lies and wondered what mum was getting at.
"Mark and I share everything together, Mother. We have no secrets." I was proud of the fact, too.
Laurel looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "So you are aware that just before you were married this man was fucking his entire office?" Her eyes were upon me and the black, sinking feeling of despair I thought I'd been rid of was back to suffocate me.
"Now just a fucking minute..." Mark roared.
I didn't hear any more. Running off upstairs, I reached the Velvet room and slammed the door behind me. This time I put chairs under both door handles so I would be left alone.
Dear God. I remembered Bella Rose saying something about my husband doing exactly what my mother had just accused him of. It was during our first visit to Escape when I'd been up on stage ready to receive my award. At the time I'd been devastated, but I'd later chalked her statements up as lies, especially after she'd claimed she was involved with him. What if they weren't? Was my husband still seeing those women behind my back? Admittedly he didn't go into the office anywhere near as much as he used to, but there was every chance he had them stashed away nearby. He was probably just waiting to get me pregnant, and then he'd be off.
Oh fuck. My pill. I hadn't taken my pill for the entire weekend, and I'd had lots of sex - lots and lots of sex. Oh, what if? No, I wasn't going to think about that. First thing tomorrow I was going to see my doctor, and I would sort this problem out. After I summoned up enough energy to murder my husband, of course. What sort of monster had I married?
The door handle began to move, but I knew it wouldn't get far. All I could think about was my husband in bed with an army of women. Although I am generally not the jealous type, that was a little tough to swallow.
"Jennifer, let me in." Mark's voice was soft, and the pleading tone he used sounded desperate to my ears. I didn't care. At the moment my misery was inconsolable, and it didn't requ
ire company. Flinging myself on the bed I grasped hold of the soft, dark velvet cover and buried my face in it. Not wanting to feel the tears that were coursing down my cheeks or be reminded of my own stupidity, all I wanted to do was sleep and fall into blissful blackness. The picture my mother had just presented to me needed to be erased from my mind because the images it was producing right now danced in my head with a lurid, far too colourful intensity that made me want to scream.
The other handle to the Velvet room rattled, and I ignored that too. The chairs were sturdy, metal, and they weren't budging. Unless my husband got a chainsaw out, I was safe here for the time being, although there was probably little chance of me getting any sleep.
"Let me in." The door handle stopped turning, and my husband had gone back to begging. "Jennifer, you knew what I was before I was married, and let's face it, the marriage was a sham. Your father saw to that. I haven't lied to you. If you let me in, I'll explain."
How did someone explain fucking an entire office full of women? It wasn't like explaining why you were late for work, or why you'd accidentally forgotten to bring the groceries back. Oh, darling, I just happen to have a load of gorgeous secretaries in my office who are happy to lift up their skirts for me and bend their asses over the table whenever I click my fingers. You don't mind, do you? I've been doing it for years.
It's no wonder the bastard hadn't had any long term relationships. I couldn't imagine any woman standing for that. There's liberal, and there's absolutely crazy. I let out a howl of misery. I couldn't help myself.
"You need to let me in, Jen. Please let me in." His fist thumped against the wood four or five times, and then the flat of his palm once or twice. Fear crept into my husband's voice, and I could feel his panic. He hated it when I cried. Once upon a time I'd thought the man as hard as nails, but the past year had taught me differently. Was there hope for us? Could we talk through something like this?
All the noise stopped, and I could hear him walking away. Was he giving up on us? Was he going to walk away from this that easily? Would I let him?
The Velvet Collar Page 16
