Vengeful Love: Black Diamonds

by Laura Carter

  “Kiss me,” I beg.

  He does. At first, soft and tender. Then his pace quickens, the force of his mouth, the turn of his tongue, and I match him, stroke for stroke, both groaning into each other. I press my hips up against his solid erection and he pushes his pelvis back against me in response.

  “I’ve never wanted anything so much. You own me,” he whispers, grinding against me.

  He moves his mouth to my neck and I shift my head to one side as he sucks and nibbles, working his way to my collarbone, gently blowing warm air across my skin. Taking his weight on one arm, he cups my breast in his other hand and tweaks the already hardening nipple. I close my eyes and tilt my head back. Then his mouth is wrapped around the sensitive tip, a feeling that speaks to my entire body. I squeeze my thighs around his hips as his teeth take over and pull my flesh, somewhere between pain and pleasure, sending my insides into turmoil.

  He kisses my sternum and starts working a line down my navel. My back arches as he reaches the bottom of my stomach. In my mind I’m begging him to move three inches lower but my words are lost in heavy pants as I squirm beneath him.

  He waits, hovering, not touching me, sending me into a frenzy. Then he blows gently from the bottom of my stomach. A line. Down. Down.

  I gasp as his breath caresses the top of my sex. He parts me with his fingers and continues his trail of hot air, my hips jolting forward when he strokes my swollen clit.

  “Gregory.” His name leaves my mouth as a desperate cry. “Please.”

  “Tell me what you need, baby.”

  My fevered muscles respond to his words, tightening.

  “You. I need you.”

  He leans forward and offers two fingers to my mouth. I take them slowly from the base, sucking them like I would his cock as a low rumble escapes his chest. Then he shocks me by moving his wet fingers straight to my arse, slowly stroking them over my hole. He bends towards me and my entire body stills in anticipation. He makes me wait, enhancing my yearning to have him. Then his tongue meets my clit and he pushes his fingers into my aching sex, the double assault making me cry out, my back arch higher, my head fall back against the bed.

  “You’re so wet, baby.”

  He moves his fingers, working me in circles, stroking my spot in time to the whirl of his tongue around my bud, building me to an orgasm I’ve desired for too long. My hands move to his hair, keeping his head right where I need him to be. He removes his fingers and slides his tongue down, dipping inside me, tantalising the charged skin of my entrance. My breaths speed up, coming fast and heavy, my mind clouding in a heady euphoria.

  My insides tense, craving his depth. As if reading my mind, his fingers are back inside me, two, then three, taking me higher. As his tongue strikes a line over my clit, my shoulders rise from the bed, I reach out my hands and grip the bedsheets.

  “Gregory!”

  “Come for me, baby. I want to see what I do to you.”

  He rams his fingers hard into me. His tongue continues to swirl my clit. My muscles spasm and he groans, a sound I feel against my sex, my undoing.

  I scream his name as I unravel around those magic fingers on an earth shattering orgasm.

  Before I even open my eyes, his mouth captures my heavy pants. His hips lean against mine, his body rests on one firm arm and the fingers of his other hand stroke hair from my damp temple.

  “How could it have taken me so long?” He inhales the words like he’s asking himself the question.

  My heart is pumping blood through my veins so hard and fast I think it might explode. I couldn’t love him anymore than I do, physically, mentally. Despite everything, I never want to be apart from him again. I want him, just as he is, flaws and all.

  Hooking my arms around his waist, I pull his body closer to mine, seduced by his moan against my lips. “Make love to me, Gregory.”

  “Baby, you don’t have a choice.”

  He slides one hand between us and guides himself to my entrance. My legs part further and he slides slowly into me, filling me, making me whole again. As he draws out, his tongue wraps around mine and takes me to a world where only Gregory and I exist. A place where nothing and no one can wound us.

  He moves slowly, his hips rotating with every delicious drive forward. My still-high insides work up again.

  He rolls us, his hot, damp chest pressing against mine until he’s lying under me, his hands roaming every inch of the skin on my back. I drop my mouth to his neck and taste his saltiness, smelling sex on his flesh. I rise to my knees, pushing him deeper into me as I keep his rhythm and move in circles around his erection.

  He grabs my breasts, cupping, stroking, tweaking the ends. My hips quicken, and I dig my hands into my hair as he lifts me higher. Then his hands are on my hips, slowing my rotations around him.

  “I don’t want this feeling to end,” he whispers.

  He’s so damn beautiful I can’t resist him. I lean forward and get lost in his kiss, unable to stop myself from building to the brink. My walls grip his thick cock.

  His low growl into my mouth drives me higher as he rolls us again, quicker this time, and he’s back on top of me, my legs locked around his waist. He leans forward on straight arms and his controlled thrusts intensify, pounding relentlessly until I can feel him swell the last bit. He’s close and the thought sends my muscles into spasm.

  “Gregory!”

  “Together, baby.”

  I squeeze his hips with my legs as my climax courses through me.

  “Jesus, Scarlett!”

  He fills me, pulsing and thrusting, over and over, until his body trembles and he falls forward onto my chest, gently rotating his hips until every last drop of pleasure is taken from us both.

  He rests his cheek against my sternum and strokes lazy fingers up and down my arm. This is right. This is exactly how things are supposed to be.

  I wake in the night and smile when I feel his arm wrapped around me, pulling me onto his bare pec. I shuffle so I can see his peaceful, beautiful face and watch him sleep beneath me until a contented sleep consumes me again.

  * * *

  He sits at the head of the dining table, multiple cloched dishes surrounding him, a jug of fresh orange in the middle of the table next to a large carafe of coffee. His hair looks roguish and bed messy in the most attractive way. His captivating half smile pulls on his lips when he spots me.

  “Gregory, about last night. I think... I think it was a mistake.”

  His smile disappears. Then I wink and bring it right back.

  “Good morning, Miss Heath.”

  Standing behind him, I pull my fingers through his hair then press my lips to his scalp, inhaling his scent. “Mr. Ryans.”

  He takes my hand and presses my knuckles to his lips. I waste no time in stealing a kiss, enjoying the reminder of just how tender my own lips feel.

  “What do we have here?” I ask, looking around the table. I take a cloche from the plate at the setting next to Gregory and grin.

  “Your favourite.”

  I slip into a chair as Gregory pours me coffee, then I dig into my pancakes with crispy bacon and syrup. I can feel his eyes burning into me.

  “What are you thinking about, Mr. Ryans?”

  He takes my hand and turns his thumb slowly across the top. “Come home with me.”

  Mr. Ghurair. Two deals. The firm. These are the things that sense should bring to the front of my mind but all I see is him, us.

  He pushes my chair away from the table and he’s on his knees in front of me, holding my cheeks in his palms. “I’ll never hurt you again, Scarlett. You’re everything to me. My whole world.”

  “What have I told you about being on your knees?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  “If you remember, I never wanted to
be here in the first place.” He rolls his jaw as he resumes his seat at the table. He’s keeping a lid on his temper and so he should, too, he has no right to be angry in this. “I don’t know if I can leave. There are some conversations I’ll need to have.”

  He nods. “Your firm.”

  “Yes. And of course, thanks to you, I’ll have to deal with Neil Wallace and undo the commitment you made on my behalf. God, imagine what he’ll say. It’s probably a good time to share with you my sincere gratitude for limiting my career progression.” I drop my fork onto my plate somewhat petulantly.

  People don’t stand up to Gregory. I can almost feel him fighting to find a response that isn’t to wipe the floor with me. He takes a breath. “You’re a good lawyer, Scarlett. The firm knows that and so does Neil.”

  “Is that what you’d say if it was one of your employees?”

  “No. And I take your point. So...if you want to stay, we’ll make it work. I’ll fly out, be here whenever I can.”

  The bloody arse has called my bluff. He might be wearing his poker face but he knows it, too.

  “As it happens, I have actually been thinking about trying to move back to London sooner than planned. But that does not get you off the hook. I, erm, I’ve sold my father’s house.” I search his face for concern, waiting for the realisation that I’m about to be homeless to hit him, but his lips are straight.

  “I know.”

  “How do you—Jackson?”

  “Yes and I think what you’re doing for Sandy is incredible.”

  The money. “Well, it’s no more than she deserves after all the years.”

  “Still, two hundred and fifty thousand pounds when you’re not—Well, it’s extremely generous.”

  I shrug. “I was hoping she’d use some of it for the wedding. I think she and Jackson are only waiting because of the cost but she won’t use it. I can’t manage to convince her that my father would be happy for her to use some of it on a wedding. I just want her to be happy.”

  “They aren’t unhappy, Scarlett.”

  “Oh, no, I know. It’s just, there’s something nice about being married, I think. Sandy’s a purist, you know. There’s a commitment behind a marriage.”

  “You don’t have to be married to be committed to someone.”

  “No, of course not but marriage is just more definite.” I wave a lazy hand in the air. “Anyway, the house sold sooner than I thought it would. It doesn’t make sense for me to keep it. I’m going to buy an apartment closer to work.” He watches me without the semblance of a reaction. “I was supposed to be out here to complete two deals. The first is around three weeks from completion. The second will be more like the end of March. I’ll have to at least stay to complete the first but I need to clean out the house, so I’m hoping I can convince Mr. Ghurair that the second deal can be completed from London and maybe I can just fly out once every week or two.”

  I can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile and he does right to keep it hidden.

  “So you’d come home in three weeks?”

  “That’s what I’m hoping, yes.”

  “Three weeks.” Now his lips curl and my anger wanes because he’s just too damned cute. He tears a bite of pastry from a croissant. “You won’t be getting an apartment in the city, Scarlett, you’ll come home. To our home. Where you belong.”

  I watch him eat the pastry, his face perfectly serious. “I’d like that,” I manage, barely audibly.

  He lifts my knuckles to his lips again. “Settled then. Three weeks. I’ll keep the suite here. You can stay full time and I’ll come back whenever I can.”

  He’s back to Mr. Controlling and for some reason that makes me happy. “You’re such an arse,” I say with a laugh. “I have a room here. The firm pays.”

  “Fine. I’ll pay the upgrade rate. I’m not staying in a pokey little room and I won’t have my girlfriend staying in a pokey little room whilst I’m gone.”

  “You haven’t seen my room.”

  “And I don’t want to. It’ll be pokey.”

  I laugh again. I’ve missed this crazy man. “Right. I have to go to work. I have some discussions to have with my client that I’m pretty sure he’s not going to like.” I plant a chaste kiss on Gregory’s brow and head for the door.

  “Hold up, firefly. You might need this.” He dangles a key card to his room in front of my face. As I reach for it, he pulls it away and drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “What time should I expect you?”

  “Eight-ish maybe.”

  “We’ll have dinner together here.”

  With a sigh, I grab the key card. “That’s not a question.”

  “It wasn’t intended to be.”

  “You’re not forgiven!” I call back across my shoulder as I walk away.

  Chapter Seven

  My day started with a call about Mr. Ghurair’s latest deal. I was supported by Amar—Mr. Ghurair’s cousin and closest confidante—as we discussed the financials of the acquisition with the seller’s lawyers. After that, I set to work on the next turn of the asset purchase agreement. Mr. Ghurair is buying the assets of the other company, as opposed to the shares, so he’ll take ownership of everything the business owns but he won’t take control of the existing business. Amar thinks this makes most sense financially.

  No matter how hard I tried to focus on drafting amendments to the document, I couldn’t stop thinking about my sore lips, the lingering satisfaction between my legs and the ache in my stomach and breasts. My morning was consequently protracted but it was a damn sight better than my afternoon spent regretting convincing Mr. Ghurair that my completing the second deal remotely could have cost benefits. Now I get to piss off Neil Wallace and work my arse off without charging my time to the matter.

  I’m thankful for the end of the day and even more thankful that tonight I won’t be eating alone. I won’t be nursing a cocktail because I have nothing better to do.

  Tonight, I’m heading back to Gregory.

  I reapply my Chanel red lipstick, ruffle my hair and straighten my fitted linen dress in the hotel lift.

  When I open the door to the penthouse I’m welcomed by dim flickering lights. There must be hundreds of votive candles decorating the suite. Two parallel rows lead from the door and I follow them through the lounge, through the master bedroom and into the bathroom. More candles decorate the corners of the bathtub and line the marble sink unit. Vanilla fills my nose, warm and sweet.

  “Good evening, Miss Heath.”

  His words come from behind me, his breath on my neck. He moves my hair down one shoulder and I lean my head to expose the skin of my throat.

  “Are you coming home with me?” he asks through sensual kisses.

  “In three weeks.”

  I feel him smile against my neck.

  “But I’ll never make partner. Neil hates me.”

  “He’ll come round. If I was your boss, I’d come round.”

  I turn and press my chest against his crisp white shirt, pulling my fingers through his thick dark hair. “You might be a little biased.”

  I feel his lips smile against mine.

  “There’s also a catch.”

  He pulls back from me but keeps his hands on the small of my back, gluing our waists together. “Share.”

  “I told Neil Wallace that a big client of mine needs my help in London.”

  “The CEO of your big client being...”

  I dab a finger against his firm pec. “Exhibit A. And you owe me.”

  “Ah, well, perhaps now is a good time to talk about the real reason I flew to Dubai.”

  I pout playfully.

  “I needed a lawyer.”

  “Right, and you could only find one working in the UAE?”

  He chuckles against me. �
�Exactly.”

  His tongue parts my lips and I drown in his taste, pulling him to me with my hands around his neck.

  “I’m coming home,” I whisper.

  “Where you belong, baby. Where we belong. Until we’re grey and old.”

  Unwilling to move my lips from his, I unbutton his shirt and push it back over his shoulders, letting my hands roam his chest. I gently suck his pec making him groan.

  I release his Boss belt, the button of his blue chinos, the zip. I draw his trousers down to his bare feet and he steps out. Then I hold his gaze as I pull his boxers to the floor, his solid cock springing against his navel. I stroke a finger gently across his back entrance, then along the base of his erection, wrapping my fist around his length. He lifts his hips forward and locks his fingers in my hair.

  I want him.

  Cupping his sack, slowly working his base, I lick the drop of early release from his tip. The noise he makes in response is primal, drenched in lust. Greedy for him, I wrap my mouth around his head, swirling my tongue around his swollen end.

  “Fuck, Scarlett.”

  I open my throat and move down, taking him as deep into me as he can go. Continuing to work his base with my hand, I glide my mouth up and down his length until he takes over, moving his hips, taking control of his own pleasure.

  “Jesus.”

  He swells and tenses, the muscles of his thighs and arse lock. He’s close. I sweep my tongue around his tip again, striking his spot as I increase the pressure at his base. His fingers nip my hair to the point of pain but I pull his hips to my mouth and focus on taking all of him.

  “Fucking hell, Scarlett. Fuck.”

  His pelvis jolts, his rhythm shot. He tenses, his body stilling and I retake control, drawing back then down again.

  “I’m going to come.”

  With his warning, I take him deep and swallow around his end. His hips buck again. His head falls back. Then I feel his warm cream filling my mouth, sliding down my throat, and I swallow as the last drop pulses out of him.