by Sapna Bhog
We dance in silence for a few minutes, our gazes locked on one another, heat simmering between us. Her hand on my shoulder tightens and I take the liberty to bring her closer to me. Our bodies almost touch and her mouth opens on a sigh.
We dance like this for several minutes, the heat, a blazing fire between us and I finally ask her, “Just to be clear, is there a special man in your life?”
A flicker of emotion fleetingly crosses her face. But it’s gone so soon that I think I may have mistaken the look.
“What if I say there is?” she counters.
I pause mid step and stare at her in all seriousness. “Then I’m going to enjoy this dance with you and say goodbye.”
Her forehead mars with a slight frown. “There’s no man waiting back home for me.”
“Good,” I respond. “That clears the way now.”
“For what?”
“For me to stake a claim on you.”
She stumbles, but I catch her and continue to move her across the dance floor.
“Are you always this confident of your charm?”
“Always.”
She raises her chin. “You’ll find that I’m not so easy to impress.”
I pull her closer enjoying this verbal tug of war between us. “The things is,” I whisper in her ear, “I know you’re already impressed.”
She chuckles. “You are quite audacious.”
“I always go for what I want Aaliya. And what I want right now is you.”
“What if I don’t want you?”
My lips twitch. “I’m going to enjoy taming this fiery spirit of yours. One night soon, you are going to submit to me. You will scream my name and beg me to bring you to completion as I take you to the brink over and over again.”
Her eyes flash in defiance to my brash words and my blood sizzles with the thrill of a chase. This woman silences the chaos in my mind and makes herself the focus of all my attention.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she rasps.
My brows pucker.
She leans forward into me, her breasts deliberately crushing against my chest, inflaming me. She comes closer to my ear, raises herself on her toes and whispers. “I don’t do one-night stands.”
My already hard body throbs at her huskily spoken words.
She tries to take a step back, but I don’t allow her the space to do so. My palm skims across her waist, digging into the curve of her lower back as I bring her body flush against mine. She gasps as my hardness presses into her. I bite her ear lobe and whisper into her ear, “Who says it’ll be for one night?” Her small moan is music to my ears.
I step back and without taking my eyes off her, offer her my hand. She looks at it for less than a second before she puts her hand in mine. I hurry her out of the ballroom to somewhere I can be private with her.
Aaliya
Ashudder runs through me as I put my hand in Damien’s. Every nerve ending in my body sizzles as he leads me away from the ballroom. We exit through a side door and Damien turns to the left and pulls me down an empty corridor. He opens the first door in front of us and ushers me inside. I peer at the rows upon rows of books stacked in shelves that line the walls of the dimly lit library.
No sooner have we stepped inside that he releases his hand from mine and shuts the door behind him. The nick of the key turning in the lock makes my heart race. He turns and his hungry gaze lands on me. That spark that had started burning under my skin as soon as he took me into his arms on the dance floor is now a roaring inferno.
I suck in a harsh breath as we stare at one another. God! This is my husband! We’ve had sex before. We’ve even made a baby together! But this man in front of me is not the Damien I know. He looks like a predator calculating how best to consume his prey. I shiver, taking an involuntary step back and he smirks.
He takes a step forward and I take one behind. He follows me, his eyes never leaving mine. My back finally hits a desk and he leans into me. He rests both his hands on either side of me, effectively caging me in. I have nowhere to run and no other place I want to be. I inhale and the woodsy, musky smell of his cologne hits my senses in recognition and my core clenches in need. But before I lose myself into him, I grab his face and plant my mouth on his.
It takes him a second to recover from the shock of my mouth on his before he holds my face and devours me just like I’m devouring him. Our lips meld and tongues clash in a war of dominance until he knots his hand in my hair and pulls my head back, his lips an inch away from mine. His stormy eyes lock onto me with a startling intensity, the green swirling heavily in the grey.
“There’s only one person controlling this encounter and that is me. Are we clear on that?” he rasps.
My mouth pouts into a moue, but before I can protest his other hand reaches inside the front of my gown and flicks my bare nipple. Electricity zings through my body at his touch. And then without waiting for my response, his mouth crashes on mine, taking control. He lifts me up and drops me on the desk and moves into me, kissing me hard, like he has been starving for me and I let him take what he wants from my mouth and lips. And he does. He takes my mouth over and over with certainty and skill. There is nothing gentle in this kiss. It’s a claiming. A statement of conquest; little does he know that I’m already his, his to take, his to command.
His mouth moves lower, down my throat, across my chest and my thoughts go blank as he lowers the straps of my gown and my breasts spill into his hands. He stares at them and my body melts under his ardent gaze.
“You are so beautiful,” he says as he reaches down and puts his mouth on my breast.
I recline against the desk with a sigh as he latches onto one tingling peak, sucking, laving, his tongue making circles round and round it until I’m begging him to stop…don’t stop. I can’t even make sense of what I’m saying anymore. I only know that I want everything he is doing to me.
His mouth repeats the torture with my other breast and I moan. Cold air glides across my ankles as his hand works its way up my leg. His fingers find my drenched core and he plunges one inside. I grasp his shoulders tight as everything fades away in the background. My mind numbs and there’s just him and me and this need growing wilder between us. Damien plunges another finger inside my quivering center, while his mouth continues its assault on my breast. White-hot heat shoots down every single cell in my body. Oh God! This is all too much.
My eyes shut as I grind myself against his fingers seeking relief.
“Open your eyes, Aaliya. I want to see what I’m doing to you.”
My body trembles as I look at him. He smiles and continues to scissor his fingers inside me. Deep breaths escape my mouth as I push myself into his hand. He pinches my nipple and I explode with a scream. I stare into his eyes as pleasure washes through each and every one of my senses, going on and on, until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and they drift shut.
My eyes open a second later and Damien is staring at me with a satisfied expression on his face. I loosen my hold on his shoulders the same time he removes his fingers from my body. He kisses me again and desire floods my body, surprising me at the speed with which I’m aroused again. Just as he moves further into me, I hear a loud gong.
Both of us still as the grandfather clock in the library chimes. My eyes widen. What have I done? Why did I allow it? This man is my husband but I’m a stranger to him. A stranger who he made out with on his desk, in his library. I’ve never behaved so wild and wanton ever.
He caresses my cheek and takes a step back. The clock continues to chime as I adjust my clothes. His gaze never slips from mine as I step off the table and head towards the door. Just as I open the door, I pivot to look at him. He’s leaning against the desk, watching me, his arms folded, a smile curving his full lips. I blush, breaking eye contact with him and on the last strike of the grandfather clock, I rush outside shutting the door behind me. Damien’s ever-present bodyguard is waiting diligently outside the door. He gives me a look lacking any judgment, bu
t my cheeks burn in spite of that.
I ask him for directions to the foyer and he points a finger towards the left. Once I reach there, I heave a sigh of relief seeing that Gabriel is waiting for me, with my shawl and purse. He stares at me for a second and wordlessly leads us out to his waiting car.
Damien
Aaliya runs away from me at the strike of twelve, drawing a smile from my lips. She’s my Cinderella! However, in her case I know exactly how I’m going to find her.
I never expected for the encounter to go so far. But when her mouth touched mine, fireworks exploded inside my brain. And then she tried to control our interaction. It was fascinating that this slip of a woman would think that she’d have the upper hand with me. My dominating instincts had flared to life and I wanted to show her who was in control—who would always be in control.
Fuck! I’m still hard as a rock thinking about her and had that clock not chimed, I’d have been buried deep inside that beautiful body of hers. I can still hear her moans echoing in my ears as my fingers drove her to madness. I still remember the sting of her nails digging into my shoulders as she cried in ecstasy when I made her come. I don’t know why she appeals to me so much. I only know that now that I’ve had her in my arms, I won’t be satisfied until I possess her completely.
My mind comes alive with a sudden buzz of vibrant energy. The challenge of taming her makes my spirits soar. She’s going to be mine and soon. That is a promise I make to myself as I leave the library and instruct Mike to call for the car.
Aaliya
Oh my God! Oh my God! My head is buzzing and my thoughts are whirling round and round. How could I have done what I just did? I mentally call myself all kinds of names. I shouldn’t have gone with him anywhere alone. I wasn’t thinking at all. But the truth is that just the thought of being so close to him after months, knowing that he was attracted to me, that he wanted me, was enough for me to follow where he led.
My face enflames as I remember all the things he did to me. He was different. So dominating, so controlling and I enjoyed it so much. It was never like that between us ever. We were always equal partners in the bedroom and outside of it. But seeing this side of him turned me on. I just don’t recognize him anymore. How can the same man have two different personalities?
I press my palms on my heated cheeks, staring into the distance as Gabriel sits silently by my side in the car. I turn to him and he’s watching me.
After a long awkward moment, he says, “He is your husband, Aaliya. So, whatever happened…” I glare at him willing him to stop what he is going to say, but he’s unfazed. “…or didn’t happen, it’s alright.”
I let loose a ragged breath. “How can I pretend around him? Pretend that it doesn’t hurt when he fails to recognize me. That when he touches me it’s not me, the woman he loves; he thinks he’s touching but an absolute stranger. It just hurts so much. All of it.”
Gabe pats my arm. “I do understand all of this. But you need to be patient. Make him fall in love with you again. Then tell him everything. I’m sure it’ll work out.”
I nibble on my lower lip, pondering on Gabe’s words. I know what is at stake. I know that Damien’s life is in danger. Yet how can I not tell him about Rian and me? Damien is already attracted to me. What if I tell him and he remembers me? But what if he doesn’t? Should I wait and make him fall for me first? My mind goes in circles as I weigh the pros and cons of the decision I know I have to make.
Damien
My father used the building space on top of the flagship Annette & Co. store on Bond Street as his headquarters. The first time I sat here at his desk after my accident, I kept looking over my shoulder as if my father’s spirit was watching me…laying judgment on me.
My hands had trembled as I put my signature on documents that transferred the complete control of this legacy to me. That day was the beginning of this new chapter of my life. That day I swore to myself I would do right by this huge responsibility that now sits on my shoulders. And now, two months later, I have accepted that I’m in charge and I can make a difference. This legacy passed down through generations was all supposed to be my brother David’s; it was never supposed to be mine. But now it is mine and I am going to put a stop to every evil deed they have ever done. I will take the greatest pleasure in undoing all the wrongs committed by them; may they roll in their graves.
Lydia Appleton and Peter Dighby, my father’s long-time business managers, knock on the door, interrupting my rather morose thoughts and enter my office. They’ve been helping me get a rein on things. Both are in their late fifties, have worked with my father for decades and are instrumental in the smooth running of things here at Annette & Co. I’ve learnt much from them in the last two months and I’m indebted for their guidance.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” they say one after the other.
My lips quirk as I acknowledge them with a nod. No matter how many times I’ve told them to call me Damien, they don’t. They insist on the formality of addressing me by my title, so now I’ve stopped correcting them.
Over the course of the next few hours, we discuss many aspects of the business. One item on the agenda was the growth in all our international branches and the locations that my father was scouting for opening new stores. I’m surprised to learn that my father was considering opening a store in India and he had chosen Mumbai.
When I query Peter about it, he hands me a file before replying, “Although the projections indicate New Delhi as a more feasible option, the late Duke, your father, thought Mumbai would be the ideal location. It’s the center of India’s film fraternity and one of the biggest metropolitans.”
I frown. “But this makes the least business sense. Delhi would give us better revenue, both short term and long term. I know for a fact that getting government clearances would be faster and thus easier in Delhi and real estate is cheaper than Mumbai. Besides, being the political capital of the country, I know that the Delhi demographic has higher spending power than any other city in India.”
I shake my head. “No. Mumbai won’t do to start with. I suggest let’s go with Delhi and find a retail store in Mumbai that we can partner with to market our brand. Try the DLF Emporio Mall in Delhi for a store location there and try for a jewelry store operating out of High Street Phoenix or a South Mumbai store to tie up with in Mumbai.”
They both exchange a glance. Peter finally says, “Looks like you won’t need the file after all.” He nods to the file in my hand. “Have you visited India recently?”
“Of course not.”
“Well then, your knowledge about the locations is quite on point,” Lydia acknowledges with a slight smile.
My head jerks back listening to her words. How do I know so much about this country when I’ve never travelled to India? I don’t even remember reading any article recently about the retail sector in India. My knowledge on Indian mythology is also vast as I discovered during my conversation with Aaliya the other night.
Perhaps I was reading a magazine on India before the accident and that’s what got me interested in India as a country. That seems to be the only logical explanation. And being with Aaliya has opened up my mind to this knowledge. I smile thinking about her. She’s been on my mind constantly since last night. I need to get in touch with her real soon.
I turn back to my colleagues and they both are waiting for me to continue. “Let’s move on. I guess we are on the last point on the agenda.”
I scroll through the list on my iPad and frown when I see the last name. “Kardesh Areen,” I say the name out loud.
Of course, I recognize the name. Kardesh Areen is the dictator of a small African country rich in diamonds, but in the middle of a raging civil war that has been going on since years.
“What about him?” I ask Peter.
“His people are threatening with dire consequences if we don’t pay them. Their payment is pending since the last six months.” His tone sounds dismissive to my ears, like it’s not a big d
eal at all. Without even knowing the details, I’m certain that this ought to be a cause for concern.
“How much do we owe them? And why has it not been cleared so far?”
Peter tells a number that makes my eyes go wide and hands me his iPad. I look at the Excel sheet on the screen in front of me. I scan the amounts that have been paid to Areen in the last ten years and the amount is astounding.
“Are we still getting our supply of diamonds from him?” I ask Peter.
Lydia replies immediately with a scowl, “Yes, plenty from him and a lot from others like him.”
“Then why’s he not been paid?”
Peter explains, “David’s been in charge of this part of the business in the recent years. In fact, he had an argument with Areen on the pricing for the last two lots. He wanted a further discount but Areen adamantly refused. David deliberately delayed the payments to prove a point to him.”
“Fucking hell!” My lips curl. “David knew how dangerous these people are and yet…” I shake my head. Could be these people behind the car accidents? I make a mental note to tell Mike to look into this.
I take a deep breath. “Pay him up and all those like him whom we are yet to pay and close all our business with people like them. I want to see a closure on all such payments by this time next week.”
Both of them trade a look.
Peter clears his throat. “Your Grace...”
But I don’t give him a chance to speak.
“I don’t care how my father and brother operated things around here before me, but from now on Annette & Co. will only deal with legitimate entities. I will not use my money to support war and deprivation in any country.”
I address Peter, “Get out of this illegal trade at once. My father and brother grew this jewelry business on the backs of illicit dealings with smugglers, kingpins and rogue politicians of conflict states. But now, I’m going to put a stop to it all once and for all. Annette & Co. is going completely legit henceforth.”
