A Kiss Stolen
Page 15
There’s no other place I’d rather be so I drink in her scent and enjoy the tremors of her orgasm, and when she is done I suck her very, very gently on her sensitive clit to soak up all the release from her climax. When I pull away there are tears in her eyes.
“See,” I murmur, “why it’s such a favorite of mine.”
She kisses me hard, and moves instantly to loosen my trousers, unable to wait any longer.
I would have assisted her, but she seems immensely impatient, and brushes my hand aside. Soon I am unzipped, and my dick is stroking her wet pussy.
“Do you want to use a condom?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No.” Her star-burst eyes fierce and determined. “Never again.”
She reaches for me confidently and acts as though she owns every part of me, no holding back whatsoever, no reservations. I have absolutely no complaints, especially when she turns her back on me and slowly impales herself on me. It turns me on even more to see her slight body swallow my cock. She spreads her legs further apart and bounces her ass slightly to drive me even deeper in.
When her head falls backwards and her hair cascades down her back I become convinced she truly is a siren sent to lure me. With her hands on my thighs for support, she begins to ride me, savoring every movement. Once she glances back and I am stunned by the expression on her face. It is that of a powerful Goddess, full of secrets. I watch, fully entranced as she chases her pleasure.
It’s hard to believe that just a few days ago, she had never even been touched by a man. I was her first, and I am going to be her last. No one else will ever lay their hands on my woman. I cannot even fathom it.
She fucks me with an expertise that shows her to be a natural lover, her rhythm hard and fast, then excruciatingly slow. It is hard for me to hold back, but I want her to come again. The racing of my heart begins to spiral out of control, but I can see that she is panting heavily too. I won’t have to plan it. This dance between us, is agonizingly, beautifully choreographed by the heavens.
She calls out my name again and again, her hips riding me wildly. I bury my own roar in her back when she pushes me over the edge and burst inside her, filling her with my seed. My mouth clamps down on her sweet flesh, even though I try my best to be careful not to mark her too brutally. When I collapse back on the bed though, I can clearly see the mark that I have left on her.
She allows herself to fall on top of me. Our bodies slick with sweat slip and slide. I immediately turn her around to face me. I want to cradle her. She lays my head on her chest and I feel my heart almost burst with a feeling of possession.
“Do you still hate me?” she whispers.
“No, Liliana, I don’t hate you. I never really did. I just told myself I did because I couldn’t stand the pain of knowing you didn’t want me.”
She lifts her head, her eyes pierce me. “Oh, but I always wanted you, Brand Vaughan. I was just shocked by the kiss. The way it made me feel. If you had only been less intense things would have been completely different.”
“When we wake up you can tell me what happened to you after you left our house, okay?”
“Okay.”
Just before I fall deeply I wrap my arms tightly around her. No matter what happens I will never let her go.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Brand
9 years ago
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FywSzjRq0e4
They took me to a hostel. A place where children are kept until a foster home can be found for them. I think I was too shocked to notice anything. I didn’t see the gleam in the hostel owner’s eyes when the policeman said, “Got another one for you. This one has no papers. Gypsy boy.”
Mr. Havant showed me to my room. It was in the basement.
I didn’t notice the blacked-out window or the bars over it either. And when he locked the door from the outside I hadn’t thought to protest. I sat on the mattress in the dark in a disbelieving daze.
All I could think of was my mother. It seemed impossible she was really dead. It had all happened so fast. But what if she wasn’t really dead? What if we had made a mistake? There were many stories told from ancient days of people who woke up from the dead. That was why we Irish, hold a wake. We stay up all night and hope it was all a terrible mistake and the dead would come back to life.
Who will hold a wake for my mother?
And my father? He handed himself to the men who he had spent his whole life detesting. They were the pigs. We never trusted them.
It was only when I decided to escape and go look for my mother that I suddenly noticed the metal bars on the windows and the door was locked from the outside. Now, I had a different problem to worry about. Something was not right. I was supposed to be in a home with many other boys. Instead I had been locked up alone in a dank basement.
Warily, I looked around. There was only a single bed with a thin mattress and no sheets. I realized I had become a prisoner. I sat back down on the bed. It stank of stale urine. The Havant man had said he would bring me a meal later. He was a puny man. I was only fifteen, but I knew I could overpower him easily.
I decided to wait for my meal to arrive and play it by ear then, but no meal arrived. The light switch did not work and I was soon sitting in a total darkness. Eventually, I heard footsteps on the stairs. I stood up, ready to ambush the man and escape from my prison. The door opened and before I knew it I saw a blue light flash into the room before I felt my whole body start convulsing with electricity. I screamed with pain as I fell to the ground my body jerking uncontrollably.
He had just tazered me.
I was still in agony on the floor when other men came into the room. The tazer had taken all of my life force and I could not resist the men when they opened my mouth and dropped a bitter white powder in it. I didn’t know what it was and I tried to spit it out, but they held my nose and mouth shut and forced me to swallow the powder. Then they left.
As soon as they went I wiped my mouth clean with the ends of my shirt. At first I didn’t feel anything, but as time went on something strange started to happen to me. I started to feel as if I was drunk. As more time passed, I realized I couldn’t move my limbs. I had absolutely no control of my body at all.
A heavy-set woman with gray hair came into the room. She was carrying a bucket of something that had steam coming off it. Under her armpit was a couple of towels. She undressed me and washed me with soapy water. The whole time she never spoke or looked me in the eye, but treated me as if I was a doll or an inanimate object. As she washed my private parts I hated it, but there was not a thing I could do about it. After that she dried me and dressed me in a black rubber costume. It was like a one piece, but something a man would never wear. It was so tight she was sweating by the time she had dressed me.
She combed my hair, then put lipstick on my lips. I wanted to scream at her, but I was completely frozen. Not even the slightest bit of sound could I make. Men came in and carried me out. We travelled in a van. They were coarse men. They spoke lewdly about my body. They even touched my penis. I was carried into a grand house. It was clear someone of great importance lived in that house. I was put into a lift and taken into the basement of the house. The room I was taken to had red walls and a bed that was covered in pure white fur. The funny thing about the drug I had been given was that I could not do a thing with my limbs, not even my eyelids could I close, but every sensation was heightened. I could almost feel every silly individual stand of fur.
The men left. After a while a man with silver hair came in. His skin was so white it was like the underbelly of a lizard or a frog. He had a cocktail in his hand. He looked at me with a crooked smile on his face.
“My, my, what a great big cock you have,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
He left his civilized ways the moment he put his empty cocktail glass down. Then he became an insatiable animal. Ripping my costume apart. He treated me as if I was a sex robot. The abuse was unbelievable. He bit my cock so hard te
ars started to flow from my eyes. Watching me cry helplessly made him laugh with delight. He stuffed his pale penis into my mouth and fucked me so long I thought I would die.
It was a night from hell.
Then his friends arrived. A rough bunch in suits. They took turns. I felt it all. Like being stabbed again and again in the ass with a knife. The whole time I couldn’t do a thing. Every time one of them mounted me I thought of Liliana. Her flowing dark hair, her beautiful blue eyes, her creamy skin, her musical voice, the delicious taste of her mouth. And I hated her more and more.
When I started to bleed, they laughed and said, blood was the best lubricant. I told myself. One day, I will make you bleed too, Liliana Eden. You’ll see.
One day …
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Brand
Even before I open my eyes I already know I am alone.
There is no warmth around me and when I open my eyes to the daylight filtering through the window, I know that Liliana is no longer around. I sit up, refusing to panic, refusing to feel any fear. She cannot leave the premises anyway but still … the bliss of the previous evening now all feels like a very distant dream. She woke up in the early hours of the morning and made me talk about my mother and my life. I told her things I have never told another human being. I laid my sins at her feet. The men I have killed, the way I rose to power and wealth, I hid nothing from her. After all she helped create the monster that I was. Let her dance with the devil she created.
I get to my feet refusing to acknowledge the ache in my heart that maybe I told her too much. Maybe this time she is truly gone.
The fear doesn’t go away until I get into the bathroom and hear a slight sound coming from the shower stall. I take a few more steps and she comes into view. My eyes rove down her naked back all the way to her perfectly rounded ass. Such relief pours through my system I almost feel tearful. The way she looks! God, I want to grab her and make her mine all over again. Then it strikes me that she is behaving in a very curious manner.
“Liliana?”
Her head shoots up in alarm and she spins right around. She is so fast that I have to blink to reset my eyesight.
“What are you doing?” she asks defensively.
“What are you doing in my bathroom?” I ask.
She keeps her hands behind her body as though she is hiding something. “Nothing.”
I look at her with amusement. “What are you hiding?”
I see her eyes dart to ascertain a likely escape route so I step subtly away to give her more space to dream of her escape. When she makes the mistake of taking it, my hand clamps around her waist. I pull her back against my body.
“Let me go,” she cries, her head lowered as she scratches on my arm to release her. I look down to see my razor in her hand. Suddenly, I know what she is up to. Thoroughly entertained by her antics, I let her go then. She is too embarrassed to even meet my eyes.
“I’ll be in my bathroom if you need me,” she says nonchalantly.
“Where are you going with my razor?” I ask. “I need that to shave.”
She is so shocked by my suggestion she whirls around to face me, her eyes wide. Finally, I am able to see the unfinished shave job on her sex. How I wished she had asked me to handle the task myself. It would have been the perfect morning chore.
“You can’t use this?” she says in a scandalized tone.
“Why not?”
She looks horrified. “I’ve already used it to, you know? Hygiene Brand!”
I am sure she must be joking. “Liliana, a few hours ago your entire pussy was in my mouth and I was sucking it as if there was no tomorrow.”
Like a magic trick, I watch Liliana turn a bright crimson. I don’t know whether to laugh or to kiss her.
I throw my hands around her and grab her before she can run away again. Lifting her I put her on the bathroom counter.
“Let me go,” she mewls, but her protest falls on deaf ears. I open her legs wide and slide my hand over the light stubble of her pussy before flicking on her bud, then slipping my fingers inside her. She gasps at the intrusion, but she is already wet and ready. In my head, I calculate how much time I have.
“You could have asked me to help you out,” I whisper in her ear as her entire frame begins to tremble.
My fingers slip in and out.
“Stop talking about that and just fuck me,” she cries with frustration.
“I would love to, but I have a deadly important meeting in half an hour. Well twenty minutes now.” Her eyes fly open as she immediately stares into my eyes.
She stops my hand with both of hers. “Will you be okay?”
“When I say deadly I mean serious, Liliana, I’ll be fine.”
“You promised last night you will go straight.”
“And I will. Step by step. There are certain codes in my life of business. If I walk out without fulfilling my responsibilities I’m a dead man.”
She frowns. I increase the pace of my fingers in her and after a while she throws her head backwards. She is so close to coming I can feel it in the tightening of her pussy walls. I decide to finish myself off later, so I solely go after her climax. In no time she explodes on my hands.
I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean of her taste, and she watches me, her gaze raw, and chest heaving. “I want us to fuck,” she says.
I instantly release her, spanking her ass to send her on her way.
“Can’t,” I respond. “Meeting in fifteen.”
“Brand.” She pouts, but I gently push her out, and throwing my towel after her turn on the faucet.
I pull the door back open briefly however. “Leave it the way it is,” I say with a nod of my chin at her sex. “I’ll finish the job when I get back.”
Chapter Forty
Liliana
I do not see Brand before he leaves.
Once again, I am left alone in the house with nothing to do, and this time around with no one to speak to. I think of Pierre and hope that he is fine, and has not been scared too much by the previous evening. He got off easy, but I got off lucky.
I still cannot believe the time I have had with Brand.
For the first time he feels like a true lover to me. Last night was the sweetest night I have ever had in my life. My fear is for how it will all end. I really need to contact my father and soon. The longer I leave it the more worried and worked up he will become and the harder it will be to bring about a solution. Brand and my father are natural enemies, but I must somehow find a way for them to become friends.
I take a quick shower and even though it bothers me to be half shaven I leave the half-done job and go lie down on the couch downstairs. I am still quite sore. Last night I was able to ignore the pains in my back and arms from my fall and focus solely on Brand, but now that I am all alone, I can feel them throbbing. I smile when I think how easy it was to push aside my aches when I was with Brand.
When the doorbell rings around lunch time my heart jumps with the hope that it is Brand. It is not him. It is a food delivery service escorted by one of the guards. They come in and lay an extravagant array of dishes for me. I eat the food, read and watch some French TV. With the passing hours I start to fear that we will lose the comradeship of the previous evening.
Night falls again. Eventually, I fall asleep in front of the TV. I come awake the moment I hear Brand’s SUV pull into the compound. The door clicks open and I sit up. I wait for his approach, anticipate and even pray for it, but when I hear his footsteps begin to climb up the stairs, my heart falls. Perhaps he doesn’t know that I am here, I try to console myself, so I call out, “Brand.”
He changes direction and comes to sit opposite me. He looks so incredibly guarded and wary it almost makes my heart fly out of my chest as I sit up. I know he must have had the same thoughts as me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I murmur.
His gaze roves over my body. “You don’t feel any
pain?”
I’m about to shake my head when I remember Pierre’s advice about breaking arms and legs. “Just on my right hand,” I reply demurely.
His brows furrow in concern. Coming closer he takes my hand in his to inspect it, and I make sure to wince properly when he presses on the part that only remotely hurts.
“Let’s go for a check-up,” he says and starts to rise to his feet, but I immediately grab onto him to sit back down.
“Actually, it feels a bit better now,” I say. “I’m sure it will be fine in a couple of days. I hate hospitals.”
He nods slowly. “Alright then, let me know how it feels tomorrow.”
I move even closer to him and trap him between my legs. He gazes at my stretch of long limbs and my hands holding on lightly to his jacket.
Lowering my eyes I speak in the softest voice I have. “I want something.”
“What is it?” he asks, and my heart stutters in excitement. The door to the house opens then and I look up to see the arrival of his main guard, however when I return my gaze back to Brand I see his eyes fully on me. The guy turns around and goes back out of the room.
“Go on,” he says. Our faces are so close to each other his eyes are like black wells that I can drown in and his breath is tickling my face, and his scent of wood and musk is slowly intoxicating me.
“I want us to go on a date.”
He blinks.
“You know, like a real date. I get dressed up and we go out to eat. Like in Pretty Woman.”
He smiles. “Are you such a child that you think real life is like a movie?”
“No, but I love that movie. Both Mum and me like to watch it together. We do the whole business with popcorn, hotdogs and bags of jelly beans.”