by T L Swan
“Get on your back.” His eyes bore into mine and dilate and his neck cracks. He takes my hand and leads me over to the double ottoman in the middle of the room which I now realise is covered in a white sheet. I smile—this was his plan all along. He wants me to take him, dressed like this in my corset, suspender belt and stockings. I slowly peel his boxer shorts away and am greeted with his mouth–watering erection, the thick veins coursing its length. I have never seen him so hard. It’s hard not to taste him—I’m dying to. He lies down on his back and I step over him, my hands on his shoulders. Slowly but slowly I slide my wet core along the length of him and he hisses in approval as he closes his eyes. I lift my hips and grab the base of him to lower myself onto his waiting cock. I groan at the intense pressure as his body possesses mine. My mouth is open as I work my way down onto him. Our gaze is locked and I’m having trouble taking him this way up first. He’s so large. I’m moving side to side to allow my body to loosen and he stills my hips with his hands as he lurches forward. I pant and look into his dilated blue eyes. He’s trying to stop himself from climaxing. Trying to hold it together. I mouth the words, “Fuck me.”
He smiles a slow seductive smile and starts to move. His eyes flick to the screen as his mouth hangs open and he looks back at me and mouths the word, “Watch.”
My eyes shoot up to the screen. He’s right. This is the most erotic thing I have ever seen. My body taking his, his hands on my hips controlling the way I move. The black satin corset with cream ribbons to match my stockings, my hair wild and my skin flushed from orgasm. I can see every muscle on his torso ripple as I ride him hard. I slowly start to unclasp the front eyelets of my corset to expose my breasts to his gaze and he closes his eyes again—he’s trying to block the visual. I know to stop the oncoming orgasm. I remove the corset and throw it over my shoulder as I lick my lips and suck on my fingers and that is it. He loses control and jumps up and throws me down onto the ottoman to swap positions. He is then riding me hard, slamming into me in deep long strokes. He picks up my legs and puts them over his shoulders as he holds his weight up on straight arms and open–mouth kisses my inside lower leg. Perspiration is running down his back. He circles his hips while deeply slamming into me. He starts to suck on my inner ankle and I moan a deep sound and he slams into me one, two, three more times and he cries out and I feel his hot semen burn me from the inside out. Oh shit, not again. I start to ripple inside and I know what’s coming. His jerking cock deep inside me spirals me into yet another orgasm and I scream as I am wrung dry. I can hardly breathe, my heart is racing so fast. I am absolutely worked over, and on film no less. The camera never lies.
Two hours later and after another two orgasms and a very hot shower I walk out of the bathroom in my hotel–supplied white robe to find my Adonis. I locate him on the outside deck leaning on the hand rail and looking out over the harbour at the stunning view. He has poured us both a glass of champagne and has a platter of chocolate–covered strawberries waiting on the table. The dinner we have just devoured was amazing, as is the service. The Park Hyatt at the Rocks definitely knows how to please; this place is beyond swank. He is wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. His olive skin is a stark contrast to the white towel and with the way he is leaning on the railing I can see every muscle in his broad back. I smile, arrested by his beauty. I can’t resist, the temptation too great. En route to him I pick up my iPhone and take a picture of him from behind. It looks like it has been photo–shopped, nobody could be that perfect. I quickly shoot it to Abbie and Bridge with the text
Just enjoying the view with my champagne and chocolate strawberries.
XXXXX
I immediately get a text from Abbie:
Fuck off. I hate you.
I smile a bratty smile and my phone beeps again. It’s a message from Bridget:
How in the fuck did you get him?
I laugh out loud.My friends are just so…bilingual, cursing of course being their first language. I am busted. He turns and smiles as he walks towards me and hands me my champagne. “Why are you taking photos of me?” his eyes question.
I smile. “Because I can.” He leans in for a tender kiss and his eyes linger on mine. Something has changed between us tonight. I know he’s impressed that I let him film us or maybe it’s the fact that I realise I trust him enough to let him film us, I’m not sure. But I know he feels it too and I need to get something off my chest. The plan was to let him see my I–love–you message on the movie and let it go from there but he might not watch it for years—who knows. Actually what in the hell is he going to do with that movie? The mind boggles. He pulls me into a gentle embrace and rubs my back.
“Do you know how much I adore you,” he whispers into my hair.
I nod and smile. “Yes,” I answer. It’s true, I do feel truly adored. He returns the smile, looking down at me. He’s so much taller when I have no shoes on. His eyes hold mine again and I can’t keep it in any longer. I want this night to be perfect, more perfect than it has been already.
“Do you know how much I love you, Joshua?” I whisper as I run my hand down the side of his face. His eyes widen and he leans in and gently kisses me. He breaks into a full–blown, swoon – worthy smile. “I just need you to know how I feel about you,” I whisper. “I have never stopped loving you Josh, it’s always been you. You complete me.” My eyes tear up again. What’s going on with me lately, frigging crybaby? He nods and swallows but doesn’t say anything. His eyes glow with a warmth I haven’t seen in them before.
“Come to bed with me and show me how much you love me back, baby,” I smile. He kisses me again with such passion my heart stops and he throws me over his shoulder and marches me off to the bedroom. And just like that the chocolate–coated strawberries and champagne are forgotten…what a waste.
Chapter 20
I wake slowly and immediately feel the exhaustion of a tired body. I feel second–hand, maybe even third–hand. I feel the weight of someone watching me and I slowly open my eyes. Hmm, what a beautiful sight to wake up to. Joshua is naked and lying on his side next to me, leaning up on his elbow. He smiles and leans in gently for a kiss and his lips linger on mine.
“Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?” I smile and nod, still too sleepy to find my voice. I rub my eyes and roll onto my back. I try and will myself to wake up. He stays silent, watching me, and after about ten minutes of watching me in silence I turn back to him.
“What?” I smile. He looks at me as if he wants to say something but is trying not to. I raise my eyebrows.
“Well,” I answer again. “Spit it out.”
He smiles and then swallows. “Are you going to leave me?” he whispers nervously.
I frown. “No dummy, are you going to give me a reason to leave you?”
“What exactly classifies as a reason to you?” he answers. I close my eyes and start to absentmindedly run my fingers up and down his arm. Why are we talking about this shit first thing in the morning? Give me a break.
“Being with another woman, Josh, is the only reason I would leave you.”
He nods and smiles. “What about when your parents find out—are you going to leave me then?”
I frown. “No, I wouldn’t have come this far if I planned on leaving you, you big dope.”
His eyes widen. “Big dope.” He grabs me hard. I giggle and roll to get away from him as he goes to bite me on the leg. “My precious girl you just got yourself a one–way ticket.” I laugh again as he grabs to tickle me and I make a dash to get off the bed.
“To where?” I yell.
He pulls me by the foot back towards him and I giggle. “To pound town,” he snarls. I laugh out loud and squeal as I try desperately without success to escape.
“Pound town,” I repeat.
“Yes, you’re gagging for a one–way ticket.” I squeal as I am dragged underneath my powerful man in a fit of giggles.
It seems I quite like destination pound town. I would sugge
st you take the scenic route.
We are in the shower and I am very relaxed. I can’t remember feeling so…sleepy. I have told him I love him and he hasn’t run for the hills—things are looking promising. Although I did notice he didn’t say it back.
“What are the plans for today?” I ask. He kisses my shoulder and continues washing my back.
“I have to do some training. I have a fight tomorrow night.”
My eyes widen and I jerk around to face him. “Fight… Josh. I don’t want you fighting anymore. I don’t like it.”
He frowns at me. “Tough shit,” he replies. “I do.”
I’m shocked. “Tough shit,” I reply as my face drops. He nods to confirm that I heard him right. I quickly wash the soap off and exit the shower. I’ll give him tough shit…tough shit, he really should keep that big mouth of his shut more often. I quickly dress and walk out onto the balcony. He, however, takes his time and doesn’t join me for at least twenty minutes. By that time I am fuming. I am not dating a fucking cage–fighter. No way in hell. What does he think this is? An episode of Conan the Barbarian? Annoyingly, he walks out onto the balcony holding our breakfast tray, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Why would he? I have just been fucked every which way in a porno…which he produced. I’m an idiot. He smiles warmly at me as he sits down at the table and starts to remove the trays for breakfast. I cross my arms like a petulant teenager.
He raises a brow. “Are you eating?” Is he deluded? I shake my head. He hunches his shoulders and starts to tuck into his breakfast. I scowl again. He’s so annoying. He doesn’t even care I’ve got the shits. I walk over and pour myself a coffee. I really am starving and he knows it, the asshole.
“Don’t you care that I’ve got the shits?” I snap.
He continues chewing his food and shrugs his shoulders. “Not really.” He smiles as he swallows. My mouth drops open, of all the arrogant…I do wide eyes at him and he has the audacity to laugh. I’m so mad but for some stupid reason I find myself mirroring his stupid smile.
“What’s funny?” I snap.
“You are,” he smirks.
“What planet are you from? I am not dating a cage–fighter Josh. End of story.” He scowls.
“What planet are you from if you think I’m going to put up with your shit? You are not telling me what I can and can’t do, Natasha. Just because you love me doesn’t make you the boss of me,” he snaps.
I scowl again. Oohh touché idiot, trust him to throw the love–you thing in. “Why in the hell do you want to do this anyway? I don’t get it.”
“Sit and eat your breakfast,” he sighs as he points at my chair with his knife. I sit and start to eat my breakfast in silence and he smirks at me.
“Seriously Josh, I’m going to have a shiny new pair of earrings in a minute,” I hold up my butter knife and he laughs.
“Calm down psycho, I do it for exercise and the challenge,” he says.
“Challenge,” I repeat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “Apart from you, I don’t really have any challenges. Without sounding conceited, most things come easy for me. I love technology. I would do it for free but it has paid me a lot more than I feel I deserve. That money has allowed me to buy the thoroughbred horses I love, so I find polo easy as well. My cars, houses and women. Everything comes easy. But when I fight it doesn’t matter how much money I make, or what my brain can do, or how I look. It just doesn’t matter, it’s just me and my opponent and the ring and if I can’t fight then I’m going to get beaten and that feeling of being equal gives me a massive adrenaline hit. I love it.” I narrow my eyes as I listen. “I know it sounds like a head trip but that’s how it is,” he says deadpan. I suppose that does make sense. I can only imagine how it feels to be so successful. I should be so lucky. I know I’m not going to win this argument and it’s true I don’t want him to have to change to be with me.
“Fine, but I’m not supporting this. There is no way in hell I am going to another fight.”
He smiles and picks up my hand and kisses the back of it. “Deal,” he whispers. “I have no wish at all to tell you what you can and can’t do.” He raises an eyebrow.
Margaret Stanton arrives at her solicitor’s office just after nine. She has travelled to Sydney to see this solicitor. She couldn’t trust anyone in Melbourne. They all know her husband. She is shown into his office by his secretary and she nervously takes her seat.
“Can I get you a coffee, Mrs Stanton?”
“No thanks, dear,” she smiles. The tall grey solicitor enters and shakes her hand.
“Mrs Stanton,” he smiles.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“What can I do for you today?” he asks. She pulls out a large envelope that is sealed with a wax seal and her nerves are obvious, even to a stranger.
“I need you to put this in a safety deposit box for me,” she says nervously.
Her solicitor frowns. “You came all the way from Melbourne to put something in a safety deposit box?”
She nods. “Yes, I need your utmost discretion and my husband knows too many solicitors in Melbourne.”
“I’m intrigued, Mrs Stanton.”
“Please call me Margaret.”
“Ok, Margaret, what are your instructions?”
She swallows the large lump in her throat. “If I go missing or am found dead, I want you to deliver this envelope directly by hand to my eldest son Joshua Stanton. Make sure he is alone when he reads it.”
The solicitor frowns. “Do you think your life is in danger, Margaret?”
She smiles. “I don’t think so, but I am concerned about a current relationship my son is having and if it continues it could be.”
“We must call the police. What exactly is in the envelope? I assure you it will not leave this room?” he breathes.
“No police…please no. I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to this matter. If I do go missing, I am just covering all bases. After Joshua has read the contents please pass it onto the police.”
“Margaret, this is highly irregular and I have concerns. What exactly is in the envelope? Are you involved in criminal acts?”
She smiles. “No, nothing like that. It relates to my son’s…paternity.”
He smiles and nods. “I see.”
She smiles a nervous smile at him. “If this information gets out, it will destroy the lives of my husband and son but it will be catastrophic for a very powerful man who stands to lose everything.”
“How would this information put you in danger?”
“My son is deeply in love with his… first cousin. I have kept this information from him for twenty–seven years but if this relationship continues, I will tell him. I will not let him live a life of guilt when he doesn’t deserve to.”
“Maybe this affair will end,” the solicitor kindly smiles.
“We can only hope. He has been in love with her for seven years and they have recently reconnected. He is not letting her go this time. That I am positive of.” The solicitor writes the necessary instructions and walks Mrs Stanton out of his office.
“My discretion is assured. Thank you for your trust.” She smiles and wipes the tears from her eyes. She hopes to god her son never has to see that letter. It will break his heart as he idolises his father. Pain lances through her as she realises Joshua is going to lose either way. The love of his life or his father. Either way it’s a loss she doesn’t know if he will be able to bear and definitely not one that he deserves.
You know what the problem with dating a very intelligent man is? Just that. He’s a smart son of a bitch. When he agreed that I didn’t have to go to his stupid fight I did have an inkling that it was all a bit too easy—he was too agreeable. So why was I surprised when Abbie, Bridget, Cam and Adrian came around to my house tonight to pick me up to go to the fight. And when I refused, drank wine with me until I was tipsy enough to be talked into anything. Diabolical. So here I am, three hours later,
at the bar in Luna Park Convention Centre wincing as I watch the big screen. Thankfully Adrian and I are staying at the bar boycotting the activities. It seems Joshua made Adrian come too because he knew I would come if he did. Thankfully we are having a really good time and we are very tipsy.
“So tell me, Adrian. What goes on with you? Do you have a boyfriend?” I point my wine glass at him.
He smiles and rolls his eyes dramatically. “No, sort of, yes.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs, “To be honest I don’t even know. My stupid boyfriend’s phone calls are getting fewer and fewer. When I first got here he rang me twice a day and now it’s down to once every three days.” He shrugs and talks into his wine glass. “He couldn’t even wait three months.” I give him a sympathetic smile and he smiles and shrugs. “Josh hates my boyfriend.”
My eyes widen “How come?”
“Josh knew him a long time before I met him; he’s in his polo team.”
I nod and raise my eyebrows and take another way too large gulp of my wine. “And,” I prompt.
“Josh thinks he is after my money.”
I choke on my wine. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking rich too.” I giggle as I wipe the wine from my chin.
He laughs and shakes his head. “I’m only rich because of your over–generous boyfriend.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Josh bought me a condo and a Corvette and pays me three million dollars a year.”
I choke again. “Fuck off.”
He nods and smiles as he drains his glass. He nods an over–exaggerated nod. “Don’t you talk. I think he paid off your mortgage yesterday.”
“What?” I snap. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“You know how over–generous he is.” I frown. Weirdly enough I don’t. I point my wine glass at him again.
“So why does he hate him?” He rolls his eyes.
