Dark Descent into Desire

by J. J. Sorel

  I looked up at my paintings. The story had an eerie resemblance to mine. The maiden was adrift in a chaotic city as impenetrable and dangerous as any forest.

  Rising out of the bed, I covered my arms. On the armchair, I saw a robe. I tiptoed to it and draped it over my shoulders, smothering myself in its luxurious warmth. Blake’s scent emanated from it, and that throb of longing was reignited.

  I opened a door and found a walk-in closet. I turned on the light, and my eyes widened. It resembled a men’s clothing store. The rack held a long line of jackets in a multitude of textures and colors. I stroked them. Silk ties and shirts of every color—bar outlandish reds or purples, which would never have been Blake—were lined up in racks. Everything neat and in order, placed with precision. I thought of my messy drawers and cupboards. I had a terrible habit of not folding my clothes.

  I crept out of the bedroom and noticed doors everywhere. I could almost imagine skeletons in the cupboards or sheeted ghosts whirling past.

  Foreign environments brought out the detective in me. I liked to absorb small details which was nothing but curiosity driven by an artistic impulse.

  As I turned a knob ever so quietly, the door’s squeaky hinges threatened to give me away, so I snuck in without opening it any wider.

  Moonlight streamed through the window onto a desk. It was obviously a study—the smell alone told me that. Switching on the green-shaded reading lamp, I soon discovered a room with wall-to-wall shelves filled with books.

  The room’s warm appeal had me enthralled. I stroked the surfaces and stopped at the leather-topped desk. A leather chair had been positioned by the window, where I imagined Blake looking out in contemplation.

  My focus wandered back to the desk, where photos captured my interest. I leaned over to look closer and recognized myself.

  Shit.

  There were several shots of me asleep. Not naked or salacious in any way, but with my eyes closed and my mouth agape.

  I whispered, “What the fuck?”

  My hair was spread all over the pillow as I slept, oblivious to the world. I’d never seen photos of myself asleep, and once I got over the horror of my drooling mouth opened wide enough to have swallowed an owl, I became fascinated. I could almost glean a smile. So that was what an afterglow from multiple orgasms looked like.

  That romantic moment didn’t last because a chill resurfaced. Twisted and weird was the only way to describe a man who took snapshots of the woman he’d just fucked while she slept.

  Lost in my own world, I jumped when a deep voice intruded on my silence.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I turned and saw Blake, stark naked with the moonlight bathing his masculine frame. I snapped a mental photo of male perfection. Michelangelo, or more appropriately, given the dark shadows that bathed that mass of muscle, Caravaggio would have rolled in his grave, itching to paint Blake. I know I would have loved to. That idea played out in my subconscious while my body melted at the sight of him. But then I caught the dark anger in his eyes, and my spirit shriveled into a tight ball.

  “Um… I came looking for you.” He must have noticed my trembling legs, for his face softened a little.

  23

  * * *

  BLAKE

  HER FACE CRUMPLED WITH FEAR. I drew her away from the table, where those photos that I’d taken in a moment of madness lay.

  “I knew that was a bad idea,” I said quietly.

  “What?” she asked, her feisty tone making me flinch.

  “Having you stay.”

  Penelope looked at me as though I’d killed her cat.

  “I meant to say…” I adjusted my weight. “I couldn’t help myself. You looked so beautiful.”

  “It’s just a little creepy.” She moved to the door. “I think I should go.”

  I followed her back to my bedroom, where she proceeded to remove my robe. I liked seeing her in it and wished I could rewind that last scene so that my hands could slip in and smooth over her warmth. That was inappropriate, considering the sudden tension, but my dick turned to steel as her eyes fired daggers into mine.

  “Why would you photograph me like that? Are there others of me in the nude with my legs apart?”

  I wish.

  I would have paid thousands for photos of her post orgasm, her lips parted, those gorgeous brown eyes shining with guilty desire, with her legs apart and her pretty pussy creamy just after I’d fucked her.

  I took a deep breath. “You looked so beautiful asleep that I wanted to capture it. And no, I don’t have pornographic shots.” I arched an eyebrow. “You would’ve known. I would have asked for your consent.”

  She scrambled about, picking up her bra and the torn panties, which I’d ripped off earlier.

  “Penelope, it’s still dark. Go back to bed. We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Where were you?” she persisted, sitting on the bed.

  If only she knew how she twisted me inside out. Seeing her naked robbed me of words. She must have noticed how my dick sat upright against my navel.

  “I slept in the other room.”

  “But why? I don’t bite,” she said. A tiny smile tried to push its way through.

  “You do a little.” I grinned.

  She rolled her eyes. “Why won’t you sleep with me? It feels weird.”

  “I don’t do relationships, Penelope. And I need to sleep alone.”

  “Then what are we doing?”

  “We’re fucking.” I pushed my hair back almost violently. “I also like talking to you.”

  “You mentioned you didn’t want to share me. Isn’t that a relationship?”

  “It could be seen as that.” I sat down on the bed and took her into my arms.

  She let me hold her, and I buried my face in her soft neck.

  “Come to bed,” I whispered.

  She lay down.

  Heated from her angry outburst, her lips burned on my mouth, and her body melted into mine.

  I turned her around and rubbed my dick against her cool round ass, my finger lubricated by her drenched arousal. I could barely breathe. It was as though I’d discovered her for the first time again. My hand trembled—such was my hunger for her. I entered her with my fingers, and her tight muscles contracted. I needed to be inside her or else I’d come on the spot. I’d never been this hot for a woman before.

  I pushed the head of my cock into her pussy, my heart in my mouth. I was no longer in control.

  Her firm peach-shaped ass pushed up against my balls. She wanted this as much as I did. Burying her head in the pillow, she muffled her cries. Her butt dancing back and forth encouraged me to continue.

  It was way too intense. I felt a pleasure I’d never experienced before.

  Blood charged through me. Penelope’s orgasm contracted tightly against my dick, tipping me over the edge. A deep groan grew in my chest. I’d never been that vocal during sex. The primal force was so extreme my heart almost leapt out of my ribcage.

  I turned her around so that I could see her. With that perfect rosy complexion she looked stunning, especially after sex—another photo I would have loved.

  We lay in each other’s arms. This time, I remained there. The risk was great, but I couldn’t leave her.

  I woke at nine o’clock. Although it was Sunday, being a light sleeper, I normally didn’t sleep in that late. The bed was empty, which should have seemed normal. But a few hours earlier, I recalled, Penelope cuddled up to me. I sat up and looked about for her clothes. She was gone. A horrible thought gripped at me. Did I do something in my sleep?

  I wanted her there to share breakfast. I enjoyed seeing her smiling face and chatting about art and finding out more about her.

  My call went to voicemail. Frustration brewed. I fought back the urge to toss the phone against the wall.

  I texted: Where are you? Why did you leave?

  The robe that she’d worn was on the chair, and just as I draped it over my shoulders, the phone pinged.<
br />
  Her text read: I’m on the tube. I had to leave. This is a bad idea.

  My finger hovered over the letters. I couldn’t think of what to say. We spent two nights together, and now she’s running? Am I that fucked up?

  As it was Sunday, I needed to visit Milly.

  I picked up the phone. “Morning, Pierce. Just coffee and some juice. Thanks.”

  I sat on the edge of my bed, which I rarely did, since I moved fast in the mornings. Staring down at my hands, I needed myself back. At least I knew that person—dark, removed, and a sexual deviant who got off on watching a stranger having his cock sucked by his secretary.

  A quiet knock at the door roused me. “Come in.”

  Pierce brought in a tray and set it down on the table by the window.

  “Thanks.”

  “Will that be all?”

  “Yes. I won’t be around today. Have the night off.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  My phone buzzed. I picked it up straightaway, hoping to hear her sweet voice.

  “Patrick.”

  “We have a problem. That girl, Tatiana, that you asked me to keep an eye on.”

  “Right?”

  “She left the shelter last night and didn’t return.”

  “What happened to the guards that were meant to be watching over her?”

  “Can’t say. They’re not around to ask.”

  “Okay.”

  I closed the call, scrolled down my list, and pressed on Peter Barnes’s number.

  I pictured Fox’s sinister grin. Seeing him at the Cherry Orchard had made our history resurface. He’d always vowed to get revenge for losing his inheritance to me.

  What game is he playing?

  Knowing what he was capable of, I had to get to Fox. Either that or leave the country, and that wasn’t going to happen.

  24

  * * *

  PENELOPE

  “WHAT DID HE SAY?” I asked about the Russian man who’d arrived at Lilly’s doorstep.

  “He wants me to be his girlfriend.” She shook her head. “He’s so ugly and fucking savage. How did he find me?”

  My phone pinged.

  “Get that if you like,” said Lilly.

  It was Blake again. It read, “Can we meet?”

  Short and sweet, as usual, no “I’m missing you” or “Let’s try to see where this goes.”

  I let out a sigh.

  “Let me guess. Tall, dark, and filthy?” Lilly cocked her head.

  “Speaking of which—although he’s not dark—Blake mentioned you, but just in passing, because he’s not the gossipy type. Far from it.” I rolled my eyes at how abridged Blake’s conversations could be. “According to him, James keeps asking after you.”

  “Really?” Her face lit up.

  “He’s gorgeous, and he’s into you.”

  “And end up miserable just like you are right now?”

  I knitted my fingers. “I can’t just be his sex thing.”

  “But you stayed at his house. From what you’ve described, that’s not normal for him. If he was using you, he’d arrange to meet you in a hotel. Or a dirty weekend away.” She smiled. “That sounds kind of hot.”

  It did. “Only we’d have to get suites with single beds.”

  Her forehead creased. “Huh?”

  “He can’t sleep with me, although he did for an hour or so the other morning.”

  “Then, he’s trying.”

  “He nearly squeezed the life out of me.”

  “That’s sweet,” she said.

  “I mean really tight, to the point where I couldn’t breathe.”

  “Holy shit. What’s happening to us? We’re surrounded by fucking psychos.”

  I had to laugh at that.

  “Tell me about James, then,” she said.

  “That’s all I know.”

  “But has Blake told you whether he’s a player.”

  “Lilly, you met him at a place where men buy virgins.”

  “Blake was there, too,” Lilly said.

  “Yes… but he insists he left.”

  She shrugged.

  “And I’m finished with him.” My voice trembled as I fought back tears.

  “Why?”

  “Because he doesn’t do relationships. I want to get out before my heart breaks. I’ve seen what being a booty call has done to Shelly. It’s broken him.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Should I call the police?”

  That jolted me. “I’m not sure.” I thought of Blake. He would know what to do. Any excuse to call him, my heart insisted. “Leave it up to me. I’ll think of something. Now, girlfriend, you’re getting off that fucking couch, and we’re going shopping. And then we’ll check out listings for shops on the net. You’re going to open that salon.”

  Lilly lifted her slim frame up. I couldn’t believe how frail she looked.

  “First, we’re going to OD on calories. Greasy french fries, a hamburger, followed by a big muddy chocolate cake, washed down with a few glasses of wine.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Lilly replied, allowing me to lead her into the bathroom.

  “Have a shower, and I’ll get some clothes ready. Okay?”

  She smiled, returning to her former bubbly self, which was a relief, because I needed her positivity.

  After I’d arranged her clothes, I pressed on Blake’s number, and chose not to text. I craved his voice.

  “Penelope.” He picked up within a breath.

  His deep sexy voice brought back the memory of his touch, and in a flash, I became mindless. “I…”

  “Can we meet?” he asked.

  “Um… this is about Lilly.”

  “Then we should meet. It’s best to be discreet.”

  I gripped my phone. “Okay.”

  “When can we meet?”

  The urgency in his tone touched me deeply. “I’m having lunch with Lilly, and then we’re shopping. Perhaps later?”

  “How’s six o’clock? Can I get Patrick to pick you up?”

  “No. I’ll meet you at Piccadilly. At the same bar.”

  “I look forward to it. And, Penelope…”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

  “Okay, then. Um… till then.” I waited. Can he hear my heart pounding? “Are you still there?”

  “Yes. I like hearing your breath.”

  I bit my lip hard to override the ache in my core, which was deep and smoldering like Blake.

  “See you then.” I ended the call and sat on the bed waiting for my heart to steady.

  * * *

  WE VIRTUALLY SKIPPED ALONG. Shopping had revived Lilly. For me, it wasn’t just the pretty silk dress I spent a week’s food money on, but the thought of seeing Blake later that day.

  “Let’s have a coffee.” Lilly led me into a trendy café.

  We sat up at the bench by the window and made our orders.

  “This has been so much fun.” Lilly touched my hand. “Thanks.”

  “I’m just happy that you’re feeling better.”

  “I am. But…” Lilly played with a coaster. “What am I going to do about Alex, the Russian?”

  “You can stay with me if you like.”

  “And Brent? What do I tell him?”

  “Let me talk to Blake.”

  “I thought you were about to leave him.” Clearing space for the waiter to set down our order, she smiled at him.

  “I am.” I stared down at my fingers.

  “Why? I mean, he’s filthy rich, gorgeous, and into you.”

  “Why won’t you go out with James?” I asked, tilting my head.

  Wearing a guilty smile, she bit her lip.

  “You have?”

  Nodding, she poured two sachets of sugar into her cup.

  “You didn’t tell me,” I said.

  “I haven’t seen you in two days. We went out last night.”

  “Then why did I find you looking so glum?”

 
“Because of that fucking savage Alex. It’s freaking me out.”

  I touched her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.” Shifting the focus back to romance, I asked, “So did you and James…?”

  “Fuck?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “No. He wanted me to go back to his house. But I caught a cab home instead.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I feel really fucked-up about my body. And I’m still healing down there.” She cocked her head toward her groin.

  “Shit. It’s been over a week, Lil.”

  “There’s no damage, as such. I’m scared. It was so fucking painful.”

  “It’s not when you’re aroused.” My face heated at that admission.

  “Mm… I have to admit I did get a bit throbby when James kissed me and played with my breasts.”

  “There… you see? You’re going to come good.” I wiggled my eyebrows at that double entendre.

  She giggled. Sipping her coffee, Lilly looked up at me. “Apart from him not wanting a relationship, what’s the issue with Blake? I mean, can’t you just see what happens?”

  “I’m scared I’ll get hurt.” I paused for a sip of coffee. “I also found images he took of me.”

  Lilly leaned forward. “Sexy ones?”

  I shook my head. “No. I was asleep. He took photos of my face while I slept.”

  She tipped her head back with her mouth wide open and tongue hanging out.

  I laughed. “Almost that bad. I mean, who looks good asleep?”

  “Babies.” Lilly grimaced. “God, that’s kind of weird. But hey, so? I mean, that’s hardly a good reason to bail.”

  I bit my fingernail. “That’s not really why I ran. It’s more what happened in bed that worried me. And he’s so hard to read. He’s full of contradictions. One minute he tells me he doesn’t do relationships, and then he gives me a credit card with no limit.”

  “Holy fuck. Take it, Penny. You’re young.” Her face lit up. “Hey, we could go to Ibiza for a month. Imagine all the fun we could have? I could give that scumbag Alex the slip. Hey… what the heck? I’ll pay. I can afford it. Let’s do it. I could use a tan.”