Reclaimed

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Reclaimed Page 4

by Marcella Swann


  “I’m sorry I was a coward.”

  Samira let go of his hands and put hers on his shoulders. “Elliot Dowling, stop talking.”

  Elliot’s hands fell onto Samira’s soft hips and he pulled her in for a light kiss. Her lips tasted like honey and he instantly remembered the magic between them; the times spent fooling around as kids felt nothing like this. As their lips melted together, Elliot wrapped his arms around her body and held her tight against his chest. Her hands slid down his sides and she squeezed his hips. Elliot pulled back from their kiss and looked down into her dark eyes; there was a fire reflected in them, and he knew he needed nothing but her.

  Samira pulled away and looked to the door. “We need to go. Now.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was not as easy as they had hoped to slip through the charity auction. Elliot and Samira had to split apart to make it through the crowd. It was almost a physical pain for Samira, as she let go of his hand and doted on charitable donors that no longer meant anything to her in that moment. One day she might remember their importance, one day she might remember why she cared to host this event, but right now it was all keeping her from him. All of the glitz and glamor of the auction and its guests were keeping Elliot’s hands from her body, his warmth from her need.

  When she finally broke through the final throng of guests waiting to speak with her, Samira saw that Elliot was already out on the street and that he had waved down a taxi cab. The doorman didn’t question her as she left, but Samira could see the confusion on his face. The event wasn’t close to over, but she was leaving in a hurry. She should’ve said something to explain, but Elliot was just a few steps away, holding the door to the cab open for her. It was all she could do not to run.

  The ride would’ve been better if the driver had been the silent type. Instead, he was interested in learning everything about them, it seemed, and to Samira’s disapproval, Elliot was happily talking with him. The only thing that Samira said to the driver was her address when Elliot encouraged her to give it. After that, she was lost looking out the window, watching the city go by.

  She would’ve been content to stay like that until they reached her house, where Elliot would be all hers, but Elliot apparently had other plans. His hand landed on her knee as he readjusted to lean in and talk with the driver more. “So, how’d you end up becoming a taxi driver?”

  The driver launched into a monologue about his life that Samira would have been pulled into if Elliot’s hand on her knee had not slipped through the slit in her dress to rest on the inside of her thigh. She tried to shoot him a glare, but he was wholly engaged in the driver’s story. His fingers teased her, brushing slightly against her smooth skin as they got dangerously close to her panties. As he got closer and closer, Samira felt her breath getting tight. She had to clench her jaw tight as Elliot’s hand slid back down her thigh to her knee.

  Looking out the window, she wondered if they were getting close and that was why Elliot had pulled his hand away. They were still blocks away from her apartment, but his reasoning for pulling away became apparent as he started up her thigh again, this time even slower than before. He was still chatting with the driver, but Samira knew that he knew she was going crazy underneath his touch. This time his fingers began to swirl in a spiral pattern on her skin, just a few inches from the hem of her panties.

  Samira shivered and suppressed a moan. She tried to get Elliot’s attention by tapping on his arm, but he didn’t look away from the driver as he teased her. Just as his fingers touched the hem of her panties, he pulled away again. Samira was tempted to grab his hand and put it back, but she didn’t want the driver to notice what was going on.

  Again, Elliot’s fingers traveled back down her thigh and slowly circled lazy patterns on her skin, before leaving the slit of her dress and resting on her knee. This time, his hand stayed outside of her dress. His hand was a soft weight on her knee, just heavy enough to remind her that it was there without pushing down. Samira couldn’t help herself anymore; the teasing had been intense, and while the impropriety of it made her want to stop, she wanted more and for him to never stop. Samira set her hand on his and guided it back through the slit in her dress up to the hem of her panties. Elliot turned to her and gave a wicked smile before looking back up to the driver. His fingers grazed over her panties until they reached a damp spot, and Samira bit her knuckles as Elliot pushed gently against the spot where his fingers had stopped.

  The taxi pulled to the side of the road and the driver announced that they had arrived. Just before he turned to bid his riders farewell, Elliot’s hand slipped from Samira’s panties and she couldn’t help but sigh out a moan as the pressure left her lips. After fixing the slit of her dress as to not reveal everything when she stood up, Samira exited the cab and joined Elliot on the curb. Their hands came together as soon as they were out of the cab and they headed for the door.

  Now Samira was on fire. Elliot’s hands were all over her, his body pressed against hers. They somehow made it up to her penthouse from the side of the street, but the memories were spotty, overridden by the passion of the moment. They had embraced again in the elevator; Samira had been teased for too long, she pressed him against the wall of the elevator and kissed him deeply while she grabbed his manhood through his pants. She could remember massaging it as their tongues danced and wishing that the elevator would go quicker so that she could feel it in her hands without a barrier, but the rest of the ride was hazy.

  Everything faded from importance except for the obstacles between their eventual embrace and the collisions of pleasure they made along the way, which only served to make the obstacles more difficult to bypass. The door to her penthouse was the last obstacle, but before she could reach to unlock it, Elliot pressed her up against the door. His hands pulled her hips back into him while he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Do you want this?”

  Samira began to grind her hips back into him. She could feel his hard cock through their clothes. After groping him in the elevator and now grinding up against it, she could almost picture it. The years of separation had been torture; she had always envisioned he would be her first, but when he vanished, she had to settle for second best. Now that she was grinding up against his manhood, Samira was wishing that she would’ve taken the chance that time at the lakeside cabin. Elliot’s hands found her breasts and squeezed them lightly. A shudder of pleasure rushed through her body. “Can’t you tell?”

  Elliot’s hands slipped from her breasts, up to her shoulders, and then down her arms to intertwine his fingers with hers. He put their hands against the door and pressed his body harder up against hers. “Then why haven’t we gotten inside yet?”

  Samira struggled against his grip but he held firm. She struggled to the get the door open, but even if she wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from him. Her dress had ridden up as they were grinding together. The bulge in his pants was grinding right up against the wet spot on her panties.

  Samira moaned, “Because I want you right now, bad as anything I’ve ever wanted.”

  She could feel him smirking; he wanted control in the moment and Samira gave in to him. Elliot must’ve felt it through her body because he let go of her hands. Samira fumbled for the door. Her hands were numb and her thoughts were intoxicated with pleasure. To make matters more difficult, Elliot’s hands went to her hips and pulled her dress up further. His hand sent shocks up her spine. Samira pressed against the door again as his hand slipped into her panties. Sliding down her ass and sending gooseflesh down her legs, Elliot’s fingers found her pussy wet and ready for more than just teasing.

  Samira let a moan out as Elliot’s middle finger rubbed up and down her flesh. She needed more than this, she needed to lose everything and wrap herself up in his arms. She reached for the door again, this time with the key in hand to unlock it, but a fresh wave of pleasure sent the keys tumbling to the floor. Growling in frustration, Samira braced an arm against the door as she bent
over further to grab the keys. She had to stop once her hand found the keys on the floor, because her motion had forced Elliot’s finger to delve deeper inside her.

  Even though his touch was electric, Samira stood back up and pulled away from Elliot. As she finally opened the door, Elliot smacked her ass softly. The door closed behind them, and the world became noise, easily tuned out. Elliot made a joke about getting a tour of the place as he hung up his jacket, but Samira barely registered it as she pulled his shirt over his head. She kissed down his neckline, his chest, and his abs as her hands unbuckled his belt. Elliot let out a sigh of relief as his pants fell to the ground, allowing his swollen cock some room to breathe.

  This was what she had waited years for, but Samira did not take a second to savor it for fear that fate would tear them apart again. She pulled down his boxers and took his manhood in her hand as she kissed the skin of his waistline. Looking up at him, Samira knew this was what he wanted. Elliot’s head was tilted back, his eyes glossed over in pleasure as she began to slide her hand up and down his thick shaft. Before she knew it, Samira was using her tongue along the side and swirling it around the tip as her fingers massaged his balls. Elliot started to shudder but then he pulled away from her suddenly and lifted her by the shoulders until she was back on her feet.

  He was nude before her, but she still had her dress on. Elliot made quick work of that, her dress, panties, and bra discarded to the pile his pants and shirt had started. Without clothes separating them, Samira’s reality folded inward until it was just the two of them. Until it was just his taste, his touch, and the passion in his eyes as he looked upon her naked flesh.

  She reached out, her hand grabbing onto his cock to signify what she wanted. Elliot’s hands slipped down her back and squeezed her ass as he pulled her in close. Finally embracing without the barrier of clothes, without the walls of the world around them, Samira could feel that he was burning just as hot as she was; two stars entwined, their passion could be heard floors below as Elliot lifted her into the air and slammed her against the wall.

  His fingers dug into her thighs as he slid into her. Samira was lost in ecstasy, her head bouncing off the wall as they melted together. Even though she had felt it several times already tonight, his cock felt impossibly large as it penetrated her. She leaned into him and put her head onto his shoulder; she bit onto the base of his neck and moaned loudly into his flesh. Elliot’s skin was humming with energy, the fire that burned within him was blazing through years of want and desire.

  They were like that for an eternity of pleasure, but then they moved and found something new and wonderful. Samira lost track of the motions; all she knew was that they were together and everything that mattered was them. They ended up in the bed, and she vaguely was aware that she was on top of him and that he felt even bigger that way. His hands were latched onto her breasts, twisting her nipples and sending her into overdrive. The headboard smacking against the wall was a distant and slight distraction that did not stop either of them from climaxing before she fell to his side, directly into the deepest of sleeps.

  Samira’s dream was a comforting darkness; Elliot had finally found his way back to her. They had made promises to each other as children, but when he left Samira had assumed that those promises were nothing more than the ramblings of overly optimistic children that meant nothing more than the breath it took to utter them. If he was back now, if he was truly hers again, then nothing could truly separate them. In her dreams, Samira knew that the world would buck and boil and problems would come their way, but they would be together through them all.

  There was a sudden coldness in her mind, and Samira woke slowly. The sun was coming in through the curtains; the wind was making the curtain sway just so, and it was dancing the sun playfully across the bed. It would’ve been playful longer but eventually it cast a glare into her eye, causing Samira to roll over into Elliot’s chest, only to find that he was no longer next to her in bed. She rolled a little further and stood up. The wind cast a cold chill through the penthouse. Samira found and draped a robe over her shoulders as she walked to the kitchen, looking for Elliot. She found a pot of coffee ready and a bagel toasted, ready for her to break her fast. What she did not find was Elliot or his clothes. Samira’s phone went off with the ping of a text alert, and once she found it in her clutch scattered near the door with her dress, she opened it to find a missed call from Elliot and a text.

  Work called, had to run, didn’t want to wake you. Call later?

  Their passion burned hot, but as Samira read through that text, she found that the fire between them could easily be tapped as anger. Her phone flew across the penthouse, skittering over the ground before she realized she had thrown it. Her breathing was heavy, her mind was cloudy and still partially asleep. All she knew was that Elliot had left again, despite what they shared the night before. Something urgent came up and instead of sharing it with her, or even waking her to give her the courtesy of a goodbye, Elliot had vanished and left Samira with nothing but confusion, anger, and a hint of guilt.

  Chapter Eight

  Elliot checked his watch to find the hour hand was lazily gliding upward to the Roman numeral for seven. The sun had broken out from the horizon, but now it was fighting against the clouds to shine brightly. He reached over and grabbed his phone from the case mounted to his bike. He figured that Samira might have woken by now, and he tried to call but she didn’t answer. A text would have to suffice for now. Elliot returned his phone to the case after sending the text. The man he was supposed to be meeting was still not here.

  Elliot fell into an impatient cycle: standing up, pacing around his bike, and then cleaning off a smudge that he missed earlier; sitting back down on the concrete bench, looking out into the empty dock in front of him, looking back over to the bustling port just a half mile away, then standing up again; rinse, wash, repeat. His body was still buzzing, his mind was still overwhelmed, and his hands would have been shaking if he hadn’t stuffed them into his pockets when not using them. Samira was the only thing on his mind. Samira was the only thing that mattered now. According to her, nothing else had kept them apart except for his fear. Now that Elliot waited on the dock, he figured if she knew the truth she might feel differently.

  Elliot’s impatient cycle lasted for several rotations before a black sedan pulled in and he leaned against his bike to wait. Tinted windows, bullet resistant in the most tangible sense, and completely void of any markings or plates, this was the kind of car the devil would ride in. As it parked less than ten feet away from him, Elliot watched the door open up and an older man step out. Void-black suit, pristine white shirt, with a black tie; the man was the same image that the car put forth, untouchable. Even though he didn’t need it to walk, he had a black cane with silver trim that matched his hair. Elliot forced himself to breath even, though he hadn’t been consciously holding his breath.

  The devil of a man walked over to the concrete bench and sat down, resting the cane next to him. “Come, Mr. Dowling, have a seat.”

  Elliot obliged and sat down with the cane between them. “I was surprised to hear from you; we haven’t had any dealings in a few months now. I thought you had gotten bored of me. For a while, it was every week that we would sit down like this, though never so early in the morning.”

  The silver-haired man chuckled, and it was dry and humorless like someone forced the desert to laugh. “For a while there, I needed to make sure my investment in you was well chosen.”

  “Then I take it the silence has been less about you being busy and more about you realizing what I told you from the day we met.” Elliot took a breath and looked his investor in the eyes. “Nothing could stop me from getting back what I lost.”

  The investor laughed again, like squeezing blood from a stone; it was uncomfortable to hear. “Yes, you climbed back to the top and even went further than you were when you were young.”

  Elliot paused. Did his investor somehow know about his coupling with Sam
ira just hours earlier? To pull the conversation away, Elliot turned it toward the business. “I’ve not only grown what you invested, but I’ve taken on shares of major companies. Even if one falls, I won’t be shoved out into the cold.”

  “I wasn’t talking about money, Mr. Dowling, I can see it in your eyes. Your true loss has been recouped. Ms. Foster might be back within your arms, but I have come to tell you that the bill is due.”

  Elliot cleared his throat. “My feelings for Samira are irrelevant to the debt I can pay back now.”

  “Then you’ve found something I can use.”

  Elliot sighed, wondering what Samira would think if she could see him here right now. There had been a duality to everything he’d done; there had been passion for her that brought him back into her life, but there were also the assets she held that he needed. Exotic Antiques was a failing company when Elliot had found it, and he pulled the rug out from under the owner’s feet before coming in with a deal that would put them into his pocket and give him what he needed to truly pay off his investor. Someone had come in with a better deal — Samira had come in with a better deal. It pained and pleased him to see her offer such a ruthless deal, but more than that, it set him back months of preparation. It took time to revitalize the resources he’d spent in flooring Exotic Antiques, but now that he was a shareholder at Foster Acquisitions, he had the same access he would have gotten then.

  The investor picked up his cane and tapped it against the ground, instantly regaining Elliot’s attention. “What do you have for me, Mr. Dowling?”

  Elliot pulled a thumb drive from his pocket; it was full of information about Exotic Antiques, specifically regarding their shipping and logistics. He had downloaded it from a Foster Acquisitions computer at the charity auction after slipping his attorney but before appearing before Samira. This was the payment that would square them for the investor’s help putting Elliot back on the path to billions. Every deal must be upheld, and Elliot’s end was to provide a route for sensitive materials to be moved from state to state, country to country.

 

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