Consumed By You

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Consumed By You Page 5

by Alicia Marino


  He’s the first to divert his gaze. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

  “What?” I murmur, dazed.

  “You were about to ask me something.”

  “Oh, yes.” I snap out of it, blushing profusely, and I can swear there is a smug smirk on his face. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “You haven’t told me anything about yourself.”

  He frowns. “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything.”

  “There’s not much to say.”

  “Okay, let’s start with your parents.”

  “My parents are cold, distant. I barely speak to them,” he says quietly. I can tell he doesn’t like this subject.

  “Your brother mentioned you have a sister. Are you all close?”

  I jump a little as he removes my shoes one by one. He rubs, bringing circulation back into my feet. This is so inappropriate. I should stop him…maybe in another minute.

  “Yes, I guess you could say we are. I don’t see my sister much. She lives in London.”

  “Oh? What does she do?”

  “She’s a magazine editor.” I close my eyes for a moment, deep in the pleasure of his massage skills.

  “Your family is so accomplished.”

  He hums his assent. “Here you are pressuring me for information when you haven’t told me all that much about yourself either.”

  “I told you I’m boring.” I laugh, biting my lip. His hands stop moving and my eyes reluctantly open.

  “I’m serious. You’re honestly a mystery to me, Darcy.” He takes a deep breath and I shrink, not liking how this conversation is turning. “You drive me crazy.”

  I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what he wants me to say. I shift and take my legs off of him, finding my equilibrium. “Who did you see this weekend, Ben?”

  “What?”

  “When you left my apartment, did you go see anyone? Or did you go home?”

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” The attendant is standing in front of us, and we both look up in a daze, remembering where we are. This girl seriously has the worst timing.

  “Water for me. Darcy?”

  “The same. Thank you,” I reply, turning my frustrated gaze to the window. The attendant leaves and we remain completely silent, my last words hanging heavily in the air. We both know the answer to my question.

  “Darcy, we are not dating. I’m allowed to see other women,” he says intensely, and even though it’s not supposed to, a knife twists in my gut.

  I don’t even bother looking at him. “You’re right.”

  ***

  I jolt awake hearing the chime for seat belts to be fastened. We’re landing, and I was sleeping on his damn shoulder.

  God.

  I sit up straight and rub my flushed face, mortified. “I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t mind.” He smiles kindly, looking up from his computer.

  “We’re here? How long was I sleeping?”

  “A couple hours.”

  I catch sight of my reflection in the window and want to shoot myself. My hair is completely flat on one side. I run my fingers through it, trying to make it look decent again. It doesn’t work. Thankfully, I wore barely any makeup or that would probably be sliding down my face by now.

  “Buckle up.” He shuts his computer and sits back.

  ***

  Dimitri drives to park the car as we head into the Fairmont Olympic Hotel.

  “This is beautiful.” I grin, enjoying the classic splendor around me in the wide reception area. Benjamin looks over at me in amusement while checking in.

  Of course he has the penthouse. I lean toward Benjamin as the bellhop collects our things.

  “The penthouse has another place for me to sleep, right? I won’t be sleeping in the same room with you?” I ask him in a hushed tone once we’re in the elevator.

  “Not unless you want to.” He grins before shaking his head, realizing by the look of annoyance on my face that I don’t find that comment amusing at all. “Darcy, it has more than one room. You don’t have to worry.”

  He laughs, possibly because he knows how hard it is to resist him. Benjamin reaches into his jacket, takes out his leather wallet, and hands the man a tip.

  “Thank you, sir. If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to press that button.” He shuts the door behind him and we’re alone.

  No one to save me now.

  “Where’s Dimitri? He doesn’t stay here too?” I hum nervously, bending down to smell the red flowers on the table.

  “No. Doris used to stay here too so we could work.” I glance up at him and he’s staring at me, hands in his pockets, a troubled look on his face.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Eat?”

  Somehow this doesn’t feel like something he used to do with Doris. This feels intimate.

  “I’m good.”

  “Let me show you to your room.” He picks up my bags and I follow him to the adjacent room. It’s as stunning as I expected it to be when I entered the lobby. There’s even champagne in my room. I lift the bottle and gasp.

  He regards me fondly from the threshold.

  “So, the fundraiser is tomorrow. What is the dress code? Business casual?” I shrug, trying to act professional. I’m failing miserably.

  “Formal. I took the liberty of getting you some gowns to choose from, I hope you don’t mind. They’re in the closet.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  With a polite nod, he leaves the room and I find myself able to finally think. I throw off my deathtrap heels and unzip my luggage, pulling out my clothes to hang up. Three whole days. So much can happen in three whole days.

  ***

  I’m forming an email to the agricultural manager about the time of our meeting on Friday morning when there’s a knock on my door and I call out, “Come in.”

  It’s Benjamin. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a black dress shirt that’s unbuttoned to perfection. It’s as if he’s trying to kill me.

  I clear my throat and look back down at the email. “I’m writing Bob about the meeting for Friday. Is ten good for you?”

  “That’s fine.” He looks around as I type out the rest of the message. As I’m closing the computer, he asks, “Do you like your room?”

  “Yes, thank you. I’ve never stayed anywhere as beautiful as this.”

  “Have you traveled ever?” He sits on the corner of my bed and I try to push away the fact that we’re both on it together.

  “No.”

  “So you were born in New York?”

  “No.” He raises his eyebrow, pushing back his rolled sleeves and giving me a deadpan look. I try again. “I lived in Florida for a while after my parents died.”

  “Oh? What part?”

  “Tampa.” I stand up and straighten my dress.

  “I’ve been to Tampa. Your uncle lives there?”

  “Why so many questions?” I quip, feeling a darkness resurface in my mind. I don’t want to tell him about Florida. I don’t want to tell him about my uncle.

  “I’m just trying to get to know you, Darcy. People do that when they first meet,” he says sarcastically.

  “Some things are better left unsaid.”

  “Darcy.” He shakes his head, sighing heavily.

  “Why do you even want to know?”

  His eyes open wide at the harshness I cannot conceal in my tone. “Fuck, never mind.” He stands up, holding up his hands in defeat. I follow him out of the room.

  “I’m not used to talking about my life with someone,” I explain through clenched teeth. “I don’t like to!”

  “Why?” He pours a scotch, his eyes angry. His knuckles are pale white against the magnificent glass decanter.

  “Because I don’t know you, really.”

  “You won’t let me get to know you, Darcy!” he shouts, holding his arms out.

  “You know what? Fine!” I exclaim, holding my arms out in surrender. “My parents died and I was sent to
live with my uncle. The man was an abomination of a human being who hurt me. I ran away.” I pinch my temples in a vain attempt to forget I even said those words. “Now you know!”

  Needing to be alone, I stalk back into my room, shutting the door behind me. I lie down on the bed, pulling the fluffy pillow into my body, seeking comfort in it. It’s hard to get the startled expression that crossed his features after my admission settled out of my mind. I can’t believe I told him. Adam’s the only other person I’ve ever told, and it was only because he saw the proof. I barely know this man. I can’t trust him to keep my secrets. I think of the small scars from the cigarette butts that cover the length of my back. I think of Adam’s face when he saw them. How understanding he was, how sweet.

  I flinch slightly when I hear the door suddenly open.

  Shit, he’s here.

  The bed sinks at his weight and his strong arms go around my waist. His hard body is warm against my back.

  Holy shit! Benjamin Scott is here. He’s comforting me.

  I try to keep my heartbeat at a normal pace, but I can’t bring it down.

  His hand covers mine on the bed and he entwines our fingers, bringing this to an entirely different level. “Don’t cry.”

  “I shouldn’t have laid that on you. That was horrible of me,” I whisper.

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know more about you. I need to know more about you.”

  “What’s going on here, Benjamin?” I let go of his hand and turn so we’re facing each other.

  His wary green eyes meet mine. “With what?”

  “Us.”

  “Darcy, I don’t know.”

  “You’re so confusing sometimes. I don’t even know if you like me.”

  I don’t know why I said that. I know he does. Maybe I just want to hear him say it, I don’t know. In a brief moment of bravery, I press my hands to his shirt. His breath catches and his taut muscles shudder underneath my fingers. He’s so strong.

  “I think you know, Darcy.”

  I’m practically begging him to kiss me but he doesn’t do it. Instead he sits up, running his hand through his thick hair.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Do you want to stay in or go out?”

  “I don’t know. Either is fine with me.”

  “In, then. I’ll go order room service. What would you like?”

  “Anything not healthy.” I drape my arms around my knees.

  He leaves the room and I’m left trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

  Walking over to my drawer, I pull out sweats and a tank top. I don’t care if he’s the hottest guy in the world, I’m getting comfortable.

  I go out and sit on the couch, listening to him speak. His voice is so rough, so low. I can just imagine what it would sound like with him hovering above me, holding me down, singing sweet urging praises into my ear.

  Fuck. What is wrong with me?

  He smiles over at me, taking in my state of dress. “Yes. That will be all. Yes, thank you.” After hanging up, he leans against the counter. “I like your outfit.”

  “Never lounged with a girl in sweats?” He shakes his head, clearly amused. “Sorry, but I like to be comfortable.”

  “No, I like it, Darcy. It makes me feel like you can be comfortable around me.”

  “I don’t think there will ever be a time where that will happen.”

  He appears to be upset by that but switches the subject. “I ordered fettuccine. Is that okay?”

  I practically faint when he comes over to sit next to me.

  Oh no. Too close. Too close.

  “Y-Yes. Yeah, that’s fine.”

  Barely a few seconds pass before he turns to me, breathing in deeply.

  “You remember the night you kicked me out of your apartment?”

  Whoa, quick change of subject.

  I nod warily, not sure I’m prepared to hear this.

  “I didn’t go see anyone, Darcy.”

  I’m unable to hide my surprise…or pleasure at his confession.

  “You didn’t see a woman this weekend?”

  “No.” He looks down at his stiff hands and then back at me.

  “Why not?” I urge, begging him to tell me what I want to hear.

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Because?”

  “Because of you. I couldn’t get you out of my head. I haven’t been able to since I first laid eyes on you.”

  I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming.

  “I’m desperate for you, to feel you.” I realize I’m shaking when his hand covers mine. He’s touching me. He wants me.

  “Say something,” he whispers, lacing our fingers together. I gape, at a loss for what to say, what to do.

  “I’ve tried so hard to get past these feelings I have for you, but they won’t go away.”

  My mind melts, deteriorating as he brings his hand up to my face, grasping onto the nape of my neck. “I want you, Darcy.”

  Oh, fuck it.

  “Then have me,” I breathe, just as his lips collide with mine.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We’re interrupted by a rap on the door. A cruel, sick joke.

  “Wait here.” He kisses my lips and lifts himself up to get the door. I quickly run my hands over my face, disturbed by my lack of restraint.

  What am I doing? Do I want to do this?

  Hell yes, I do!

  This can only end badly, Darcy! This isn’t some happily-ever-after shit!

  Benjamin takes the tray from the waiter, not letting him pass despite his feeble efforts. I think he’s supposed to set up the table for room services. Ben hands him a tip, ushering the man out so he can shut the door. He sets the tray on the table and rounds it to get to me.

  “Come.” He holds out his hand to me.

  “What about the food?”

  “It’s not going anywhere.” He cradles my neck between both hands and pulls me in, crushing my miniscule limbs to his body with little effort. His thick erection rests between us as he practically drags my trembling body to his bedroom. The rate at which my heart is pounding should be impossible.

  His bedroom is exactly like mine. There are flowers everywhere.

  “God, what are you doing to me?” he whispers in between kisses. We make it to the corner of the bed and I fall back, taking him down for the count with me.

  His hands roam to my breasts, and I purr beneath his touch.

  Is this really happening?

  “Yes. Let me hear you.” He fists the hem of my tank top and drags it up over my head so I’m left in my bra. He trails his mouth down my throat, nibbling ever so softly on the sensitive skin, and a cold chill washes over me when I realize I have something to tell him before we continue.

  “Ben,” I gasp, my hand pressing down into his shoulder.

  His breath is warm against the curve of my breasts. “What?”

  “I need to tell you something before we go further.”

  He stills, his smoldering eyes flickering to mine. He pulls back, faltering in his determination as he studies how serious I have become. “Okay.”

  Okay. He’s waiting. Just spit it out. Just tell him so this can be over with.

  “Your heart is beating really fast, Darcy. What do you need to tell me?”

  “There are marks on my back,” I confess, hating this.

  “Marks?” His lips turn down in confusion and he sits up.

  “Yes, scars.”

  “From what?” I don’t say anything and after a moment, he’s smart enough to piece it together. “Turn around.”

  I sit up and shift, letting him see the dozen marks that cover the length of my spine, shoulder to hips. I shiver when the pads of his fingers move over a few of them carefully.

  “Cigarette burns.”

  I nod, focusing on the bedding beneath us. “I would understand if you don’t want to do this anymore. You don’t have to fe
el bad.”

  Without a single word and just moments after the words leave my mouth, he begins undoing the back of my bra. Sliding the straps down my shoulders, he pulls until the material is nowhere near my breasts. He comes up behind me and presses his lips to my shoulder. “Do you want me to do this?”

  “Yes.”

  Hell yes.

  He moves my hair to my shoulder and places his lips against my neck, teasing me, his large hands reaching down to cup my heavy breasts. I whimper when he tugs on my nipples harshly, only to soothe the tender skin with soft squeezes. He stands up, leaving me bereft, and reaches into his wallet, removing a condom.

  “Lie back, Darcy.”

  I do as I’m told and wait for him. I’ve never been this frightened for intimacy, not even during my first time. He sets the condom on the counter and pulls my sweats off my legs in a flash so I’m sprawled out on the sinking mattress, clad only in panties.

  I hold my breath as he unbuttons his shirt, never taking his eyes off of me. When he shrugs it off, my lips part in disbelief, watching his hard abdominal muscles ripple across his long torso.

  “You’re perfect,” I declare, sitting up on my elbows, unable to look away.

  He pulls down his jeans.

  Holy fuck.

  He’s big. His bulge is straining in tight black briefs. I slide to the edge of the bed and I hear his sharp intake of breath as I grab ahold of his waistband and pull them down, releasing him to my lustful gaze.

  He lets out a low, strangled sound when I curl my fingers around his impressive girth, marveling at his primitive maleness. I bring my head down and slowly drift my tongue along the complete length of him, then dive in with an intense desire to take as much as I can of him into my mouth.

  “Holy shit, Darcy,” he growls, his fingers tangling into my hair to hold me in place. I worship the most intimate part of his body greedily, my body responding in kind to the sounds of his soft moans. I could do this all day as long as he keeps making those noises.

  “Let me taste you, baby,” he demands, and he gets on his knees, pulling my legs to the edge of the bed. I convulse when his lips graze my inner thigh, my erotic scent rising to torment us both. “God, you smell fucking good.”

 

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