by Ruby Rowe
“My dirty girl...” he whispers in my ear.
Holy shit, what if someone comes in? I whimper against the silk and squirm, so he squeezes the back of my neck to hold me still. This only incites a long moan, my body shocked to life by his authoritative touch.
“Put your palms and cheek down on the table.” I hear his zipper and the rustling of his pants as he shoves them down. “This is going to be fast and rough until I come all over your gorgeous ass. You’re not going to come this time. Do you understand me?”
I don’t make a sound, so he swats my ass. “Nod that you understand.” I don’t move, so he hits me harder across both my cheeks, and I whimper from the sting and excitement it creates.
“Nod now, my Rose, because if someone walks in this room and see’s your superb ass, your punishment when we get home will be unimaginable.”
Panicking that someone could catch us, I nod.
“Good girl.” Without another word, he drives his cock into me. It stings, so I cry out, my sounds muffled and erotic. Each thrust feels better than the last, and I relish in the buildup of pleasure.
With my torso pressed to the table, I hear the beading on my dress scraping against it, and my cheek shoves forward and back as he aggressively pounds into me.
He’s still clasping my neck, and this fuck is rough like he warned … dirty, too, as he takes back the control he lost. I want this from him. I long for Ellis to use me to find that in himself.
I’ll also give him my submission as restitution for the years he lost with his son. I yearn for him to punish me as much as he needs the power to do it.
Oh, god, I’m gonna come.
Moaning, I clench my muscles, squeezing his cock.
“Don’t you dare fucking come.” Two more thrusts, and Ellis pulls out of me. He digs his fingertips into my ass cheek and comes all over it. His legs jerk against mine, his grunts animalistic, only reaffirming the virile male that he is.
Stretching his arm around me, he pulls the panties from my mouth, and I suck in a taxing breath. I’m enthralled by the shameless way he fucked me, and how the lewdness of it turned me on. Even though I didn’t orgasm, I feel satisfied knowing I gave him what he needed.
He fixes his pants and uses my underwear to clean up the mess. My dress is pulled down next, and grasping my waist and arm, he stands me up but doesn’t turn me around.
As if he hasn’t had enough, he clings to my body tighter and nips at the back of my neck, biting it in random places. We’re sweaty and gasping for air, dizzy from the fog of passion we’re so often lost in.
“Thank you,” he whispers. Moving his arm from my waist to across my stomach, he pulls me back against him and hugs me snugly. “Every day you gain more of my trust.” His lips kiss their way from my neck up to my ear, and I let my head fall back against him. “I love you, Camilla.”
I stiffen. He loves me … trusts me. I can’t hold this secret in another day. I’m telling him once we’re home tonight. Twisting in his arms to face him, I wrap mine around his neck.
“I love you, too, Ellis, and I hope you’ll hold on to that truth.”
CHAPTER NINE
Camilla
Who knew that within an hour of arriving at this fundraiser I’d be fucked and pantiless? I think he shoved them in his tux pocket.
In the restroom, I scrutinize myself in the mirror, wishing my skin would change to a different shade other than the color of my auburn hair. I push a few wispy strands back and straighten my gown.
I also wish I had my purse, but I left it at the table when I ran after him. Since there’s no way to make myself more presentable, I give up and head to the door.
Ellis is waiting for me again, but he’s calmer this time. He smiles and kisses my head.
“What’s with the frown?” he asks.
“I’m afraid people are going to know what we did.”
“Good. They’ll be jealous that someone’s having fun tonight.” Entwining our fingers, he leads me toward the ballroom again.
“Oh, I imagine there are people here who enjoy these events.”
“Yes, and my mother is one of them.” We return to the table, and everyone stares at us as we take our seats. Their eyes soften upon seeing Ellis more relaxed. Well, except for Christopher’s. He’s sullen like usual.
Glancing around, Estella waves at a server nearby, and he strides over. “Could you please bring their entrees out for them right away?” she asks, pointing to us.
“Of course, ma’am.”
“You two can finish dinner while the other guests peruse the paintings one last time.” As if nothing has happened, she smiles brightly.
Christopher wipes his mouth. “I think I’ll check out the paintings before the auction begins.” My eyes follow him as he walks across the room. He stands in front of the roped off area and admires them.
“Camilla, while you were away, Estella mentioned you’re involved in public service,” Aspen says.
“Oh, I haven’t done anything yet. I’m still in school, but that’s always been my dream, since I was an adult, anyway.”
“What areas are you interested in?” Estella asks.
“Feeding our hungry is what I’d like to focus on, particularly among our youth. There are so many children whose only meals come from those they receive at school. It breaks my heart.”
“Do you have any ideas as to how you’ll help in that department?” Ron asks.
“I have a few ideas, but since I haven’t been exposed to the ins and outs yet, and the politics of it all, I’m not sure if they’re doable.” I smile and look down. “Maybe my plans are foolish.” Feeling my skin flush, I take a drink of champagne.
Ellis clasps my hand on the table.
“There’s nothing foolish about you.” I look around and everyone at the table is eyeing him, instead of me.
“I love a lady who can make the impossible happen, so tell us one of your ideas,” Ron adds with a hearty laugh. His wife, Mary Ann, rolls her eyes as if she’s used to his flirting.
“OK… I know there are already programs at schools for children to take donated food home in their backpacks, so what I’d like to do is expand on that to educate children about healthy eating.
“My reasoning is that if they’re knowledgeable about nutrition and the importance of it, or are at least familiar with the food groups, then they’ll want better for their own children one day.
“Maybe that will make them strive for more in other areas of their lives to ensure their kids have proper nutrition. If this small change can break the cycle of poverty and hunger in a single family, then it’s worth it to me.”
Covering her heart, Estella releases a high-pitched gasp.
“Do you hear this delightful woman? She’s full of hope and compassion, envisioning the much bigger picture. Ellis, do you hear her?”
“Yes, Mother, I’m sitting right here.”
“That’s surprising,” James, Ellis’s father, says.
“Why is that?” Ellis asks in a guarded tone.
“No offense, son, but you’ve never supported your mother’s charity work, so it’s surprising to see you with someone who’s as equally passionate about it.”
“You know I make charitable donations myself. Not actively participating in the organizations of such causes doesn’t mean I’m against them.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t generous. I said you’ve never shown interest in your mother’s work, so I find it intriguing that you’re listening so intently to Camilla.”
“Boys, stop it. I was enjoying listening, so please, dear, tell me how you think we could educate the children,” Estella says. Christopher sits back down at the table and directs his attention to me.
“I want to send home a cartoon activity kit with their food that would be informative but also fun for them so they might absorb the information.
“Did you know there are children who’ve never seen or tried common fruits and vegetables? You can show them an orange,
and they honestly have no clue what it is. That’s mind-boggling and sad to me.
“So, each kit would focus on a cartoon character of a specific food and would give facts about it. I’d include fun things like jokes, a coloring page and puzzles for them to do. Liam–I mean, a little boy, helped me come up with the cute cartoon characters.”
“The boy’s name is Liam,” Ellis says.
I grab his shoulder. “Ellis, no, not now.”
He turns to me. “Yes, now. He’s not something to hide. Not ever. He’s a Burke, and they need to know it.”
“What are we missing here?” Lawrence asks.
I might die right now.
“I have an announcement.” Ellis clasps my hand again on the table.
“Holy shit, you never listen,” Greyson exclaims before he scratches the back of his head.
“Camilla and I have a child together. His name is Liam, and he’ll turn four this summer.”
Mouths fall open around the table.
“What the fuck?” Christopher asks. Ellis shoots him a glare.
“Liam is mine,” he says, and the underlying threat for Christopher to keep his mouth shut isn’t mistaken by either of us.
“Whatever. I need some fresh air,” Chris replies before he storms off.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ron says before bursting into laughter.
James grits his teeth. “What are you doing, Ellis? You know this event is not the time or place for such nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense. Camilla and I shared a night together and then lost touch with one another. We only realized recently that Liam is mine, so we’re together now, and they’re both living with me.”
I steal a peek at Estella. She’s covering her chest, and I’m praying she doesn’t have a heart attack. There’s snickering from across the table, and Lawrence is failing at hiding his grin.
He’s a Burke through and through. He has the same stark blue eyes, and like his father and uncle, he’s tall. Greyson is a tad shorter, maybe taking after his mother. Lord, I wish Estella would say something.
“I have a grandchild?” she asks, dabbing at the sweat on her forehead. Please don’t stroke out.
“Yes, Mother, you have a grandson, and he’s smart, inquisitive, and well-behaved. He looks just like us. Oh, and he has our odd sense of humor, too. The kid’s a riot sometimes.”
My heart melts from Ellis’s grin, the pride shining around him like a yellow aura of excitement and warmth. It’s as if he truly believes Liam is his own.
“This is unreal,” Estella says before she grabs her glass of champagne.
“I swear, Ellis”–James scowls and points–“if you weren’t too old for it, I’d lay you over my knee for choosing this time and place to tell us this news.”
“Wow, this is wonderful,” Aspen says, attempting to lighten the mood. “I’m happy for you guys.”
Lawrence smirks. “Ditto.”
“What a night. I’m a great-uncle,” Ron declares with his glass held high.
“Don’t make this about you, Ronald.” Mary Ann gives him a sideways glance.
“I’m proud is all. Now, someone show me a damn picture of him.” I begin fumbling with the clasp on my purse, but Ellis pulls out his phone, beating me to it.
“You have photos of him?” I ask quietly.
“Of course, and I think my parents should see them first.” Ellis hands the phone over to Estella, and she begins to weep.
“He’s so precious and is most definitely a Burke.” Sniffling, she regains her composure. “He has your hair and eyes, Ellis. This is such a blessing, especially after the loss this family has suffered. Tony would’ve been thrilled.”
Hmph, if she only knew.
Turning to me, she pushes back her shoulders and lifts her chin.
“Why would you wait so long to tell Ellis he has a child?”
“It’s complicated, Mother, and is not Camilla’s fault. That’s all I’ll say about the subject. She’s an astounding mother, and I’m grateful to finally have them both in my life.”
Relaxing her body, Estella passes the phone to James.
“Did you hear that, honey? Ellis is happy. Camilla, I must know everything about you and your family. What’s your mother’s maiden name? What’s your heritage? Ellis, didn’t you say she’s from the north? A Yankee?”
“Lord, Mother, I said she’s from the south. And who even uses that term anymore?”
“You wouldn’t know my family. As far as my heritage, my maternal grandmother is Italian, and still lives in Italy, and I believe I have English and Irish ancestors, as well.”
“I can’t wait to hear more. We’re acquaintances to several southerners, so we’re bound to be connected in some way.”
“Let’s get to know Camilla and our apparent grandchild first,” James says.
“We’ve already taken a paternity test, Father,” Ellis replies. “He’s mine.”
Grabbing my hand, Estella beams. “This calls for a party; a welcoming celebration for you and Liam. We’ll have cake and clowns—”
“Kids hate clowns, Estella. They’re scary fuckers,” Ron says.
The family laughs, minus Mary Ann who replies, “Watch your language, Ron.”
Greyson tips his glass toward me. “I think it’s Camilla who should be concerned about what’s in the gene pool on this side of the family.”
“OK, so no clowns, but we can have one of those jumpy things kids love to play in.” She fiddles with her diamond necklace. “Ellis, you have me so frazzled with this news and right before I have to give a speech in front of five hundred people.”
“You’ll do fine, my love,” James says to her. “You always do.” They seem to possess a strong love for one another, and it’s comforting to know Ellis has witnessed more than one couple work through their indiscretions, troubles and loss.
Maybe seeing that forgiveness in his family will spur his ability to forgive me, too.
CHAPTER TEN
Ellis
My parents handled that better than I expected, but I’m certain James will give me an ass-chewing later. We have what I call a loving, dysfunctional relationship. It’s a pleasure to get a rise out of him, but it’s my defense mechanism. I strike before he has a chance to.
Ever since I became a hacker, my father has treated me differently, but my brother and I wouldn’t have spent every waking hour on computers if we’d had parents who weren’t so wrapped up in their own careers.
His notion of an esteemed profession is what he desires for me, and it’s yet another situation he doesn’t understand. What I do is vital to our existence and something for him to be proud of, even if he can’t share all the gritty details with his friends and associates.
Since I’m private and anti-social, he worries others will think I’m a hermit freak, playing on a laptop while hidden away in my mansion.
Maybe I have been the beast in hiding, but now I have a beauty to heal me and a nephew who makes me want to be a better man.
Damn, Camilla and I need to figure out what to tell Liam, and since we haven’t settled that, I’m surprised she’s not pissed at me for what I told my family tonight.
I gaze at her as she touches the pink peonies and ivory roses at the center of our table. She’s in awe of her surroundings: the very things I take for granted from being exposed to luxury all my life.
She picks up her fork, and it’s cute how she checks to see if anyone is watching before she shoves a bite of food in her mouth. I think she’s barely eaten today, so she’s likely starved.
My mother takes the stage, and everyone applauds. Greyson scoots his chair closer and leans in.
“Did you not get enough of her when you slipped away?” His breath reeks of liquor, so I point to his glass.
“How many of those have you had?”
“Don’t change the subject. Admit you fucked her in this building. I can recognize that look on a woman anywhere. Rosy skin and mussed-up hair. Swollen wine-colored
lips.” He gawks at her, and I may stab his eyes out with my fork.
Since my mother is speaking, I lower my voice and say, “Stop before it’s too late, asshole. You need to slow it down on the scotch, too.”
“It’s Pappy, actually. He’s my only friend tonight.”
“You get hammered on bourbon.”
He scowls. “Blame it on the bitches here. They’re all up on my junk, and not in a good way.”
Shaking my head, I shift back toward Camilla and the stage. Estella praises my brother, telling lies I wish were truths, until I’m forced to exile my brain to keep my panic at bay.
Camilla’s body becomes rigid as my mother speaks of Tony, so I scoot away from Greyson and closer to her, moving my hand around to rest on her thigh.
Threading our fingers, she relaxes her shoulders, and for once it looks like I’ll get through an entire gala without running … well, maybe.
My girl’s not wearing panties, and the thought keeps running through my head. My cum is all over them as they rest in my pocket. Damn, I might ditch this event yet to have a taste of her.
As the paintings are auctioned, my mind drifts back to Tony and some of the times we visited art galleries. One interest we did share was an appreciation for the arts, particularly paintings.
I tend to choose pieces that express deep emotions, and maybe that’s because I have trouble expressing my own.
The auctioneer pointing straight at our table brings me back to the present. I look to my right, and Christopher is holding up his paddle, bidding twenty thousand dollars.
A woman a few tables to our left outbids him at twenty-one, but Christopher holds his paddle up again at twenty-two.
What the hell is he doing?
My eyes dart to the current painting. It’s a Johan Jongkind marine oil painting of a ship and sea. Hmm…
“We have twenty-two,” the auctioneer says. “Can we get twenty-three?” He points to the back of the room before Chris can get his paddle raised. “You there, for twenty-three. Can we get twenty-four?”
