Obsession (Forbidden #2)
Page 14
‘Take the dress off, Kira.’
She moves closer, her mouth almost touching mine. ‘What if I don’t want to?’
I grip her waist tighter, gathering the material of her dress up between my fingers. ‘Take it off.’
She smiles again, laughing quietly, and she has no idea what that does to me. No fucking idea.
But then she steps back, and she slowly slips the dress down until it falls to the floor, and she steps out of it, leaving the heels on. She knows how I like it.
I just want to look at her for a second or two. I just want to take her in, it’s already calming me, just looking at her. And she knows that. She knows, and she backs up against the wall and threads her fingers into her hair, widening her stance as my eyes scan her naked body.
‘What are you waiting for, Mr Cannon?’
It’s my turn to smile, and I roll up my shirtsleeves as I move towards her, our eyes locked. And then I’m right up against her, so close I can feel her breathing, feel her tits rising and falling against my chest.
‘You ready for this, Ms Blu?’
She laughs again; that quiet, low, husky laugh that almost makes me come, it’s so freaking sexy. And that’s when I drop my hand and plunge my fingers into her, feeding off her cries, letting her soft moans seep into me as I look into her eyes. She’s learning, slowly, that I like to look at her when I do this. Whether it’s my cock or my fingers inside her, I like to look at her. It’s so fucking hot, watching her eyes, hearing her sighs as I take her.
I cup her cheek to keep her head in position as I continue to thrust into her, and it’s like a switch has been flicked that’s turned off the outside world; made it all disappear, and I like it, that feeling. I like it when it’s just me and her with nothing else there to intrude. It’s like it was back in Newcastle, when we lived within the confines of my hotel suite, just us, and this connection we still have that tears at my heart and won’t let me settle. But I need it. I fucking need it.
I stroke her cheek, feeling her soft skin beneath my fingers, and as I run my thumb over her mouth she catches it with her teeth and bites down on it, gently, but it’s such a fucking turn-on as her eyes continue to burn into mine and my fingers thrust in and out of her.
But I need to taste her now. I need to run my tongue over her, lick her; I need her to come while my tongue’s inside her because I get off on that, so fucking much.
So I break the stare and sink to my haunches, feeling her fingers bury themselves in my hair as she pushes my head down against her. And she’s warm and soft and she tastes incredible, I can’t get enough of her. Of this.
I can’t get enough of her…
Kira
My knees almost give way beneath me as he pushes himself against me, and then his tongue slides inside me and I can’t help but gasp, my fingers clenching in his hair as I try to stay steady. But as that low, slow tingle starts to work its way through me my legs grow weaker as he starts to pull that climax out of me.
Oh, Jesus. Jesus!
I feel his tongue, there inside me, feel his mouth covering me as I start to shudder, a glorious, white-hot pain ripping through me. And I’m spilling out into him; on to him, and he’s taking it, and it’s so hot, so fucking hot! It’s beautiful, and I don’t want it to end, but I think this was always more about his relief than mine. I think I just got lucky that he wanted – needed – to do this.
I keep my eyes closed as everything starts to slow down, and he’s still there, his tongue is still touching me and I’m beyond crazy now. I’ve given him everything, but he isn’t leaving until he’s made sure he’s got it all.
‘Open your eyes, baby,’ he whispers, and I slowly open them, and they meet his, and another intense wave of something I still can’t fully understand tears through me. He’s so beautiful, and sometimes I just can’t handle it. I can’t. It scares me, how beautiful he really is. What’s happening here – that scares me. And I know what’s coming now. He still needs me. I still want him. And it’s gonna get loud.
He cups my bottom and nudges me up and I wrap my legs around him, holding him close as he slams into me, his cock so hard and forceful it pushes me right back against the wall. He’s so deep inside me he can’t go any further, and he’s taking whatever frustration he’s feeling out on me; using me as that plaything he needs me to be sometimes, and that’s fine. That really is OK. But the fact I think that; that I feel that way, it’s frightening. After years of controlling everything that went on in my life I’m suddenly losing my grip.
And I can’t afford to do that.
I can’t afford to lose him.
I just have to decide which price it is I’m willing to pay.
Fifteen
Neal
‘I think Kandi-Ann should go home. Back to Newcastle.’
I look up from my paper and frown. ‘Why?’
She looks slightly confused at that response. ‘I just think… what happened the other night, Neal. I just think…’
I fold my paper in two and lay it down on the table next to the toast rack and the cafetiere. ‘If you want her to go back to Newcastle, I’ll organise a flight. That’s not a problem.’ To look at us, sitting here at the breakfast table, me with my morning paper and her all just-woken-up-beautiful in one of my shirts with her hair all piled up on top of her head, we probably look like any other normal couple. But we’re not. Last night we played host in our own sex club. And when we got home we locked ourselves in our own private playroom and did things to each other beyond the comprehension of those “normal” couples we’ll never really liken ourselves to. And now we’re about to have a conversation regarding a threesome we had a few nights ago. And that isn’t your everyday breakfast chat. But then again, in our world it is.
‘I can’t have her near you, Neal.’
She’s worried about me and Kandi?
‘I know I wanted it – what happened. And I did, I wanted it. But now…’
She’s dropped her gaze; she can’t look at me, and that’s not like her. Less than four hours ago she was staring me down, telling me to hurt her good and fuck her hard. And now she can’t even look at me.
‘You were inside her, Neal.’
She finally raises her head and her eyes are back on mine.
‘And I know – I know that me and her… Jesus! Do you not see how fucked-up this is?’
Oh, yeah, I see. I know how fucked-up this all is. I just like it that way.
‘I don’t care what you and Kandi do to each other; with each other. I don’t care, Kira.’
She frowns, the confusion on her face very clear. And once again she has every right to be confused. It was only a day or so ago that I needed to know exactly what it was that she and Kandi had together. And, yeah, I’m not gonna lie, at first I felt threatened by their history. But now? No. That threat’s subsided. She doesn’t want Kandi. Not like that. Does Kandi want her? So what if she does. Like I said, I don’t mind sharing. But it’ll be on my terms. And most of the time, I’ll be watching.
‘I don’t think she needs to go home, Kira. We just need to make the situation work for us.’
She looks at me – right at me – and she gets it. I think. I’m just not sure she’s entirely convinced.
‘We can do this, baby. I promise you.’
She throws me a weak smile and gets up, taking her empty plate and mug with her. ‘I’ll go make a start on stacking the dishwasher. We promised Barry we’d be at the gallery this morning, remember?’
I remember. I just don’t care whether we end up there or not.
I watch her walk over to the dishwasher and start stacking the breakfast plates away. I could watch her for hours, even doing mundane shit like this. Just looking at her is one of my favourite things to do. But she seems distant this morning, and that unsettles me.
I look out of the window, allowing myself a few seconds to get my head together before I go over to her. She’s at the sink now, rinsing out the glasses we’d used last ni
ght and I gently touch her hip, and she puts the glass she’s holding down and leans back against me. I kiss her neck and she reaches behind to slide a hand around the back of mine, keeping my head down, and I slip her shirt back off her shoulder and press my mouth against her warm skin, closing my eyes as she sighs quietly.
‘I don’t want you touching her again,’ she whispers, tilting her head to one side as I bring my mouth back up to her neck.
‘I don’t want to touch her again, Kira.’
And I don’t. That’s true. It was nice, at the time, but I’ve kinda had my kicks now. Two women at the same time – I’ve done it. But I still want to watch Kira touch Kandi; watch Kandi touch Kira. I still want that. Which is why I don’t think Kandi should go home just yet. Because I still want to watch them, together. Man, it gets me hard just thinking about it!
She slides her fingers into my hair and pushes herself back against me and I let my hands drop down to her hips; up under her shirt.
‘You need to take these off,’ I murmur as I slip my fingers under the sides of her panties.
She laughs quietly and places a hand over one of mine, our fingers intertwining as, together, we slowly push her panties down. I can’t get enough of her, I fucking can’t. I want her constantly, I need her 24/7. She’s my addiction. My beautiful obsession. Without her my world stops turning, I know that now. It just stops fucking turning.
I catch her mouth and kiss her slowly, her hand still holding on to mine as I slide it between her legs, and when I touch her she sighs quietly and squeezes my hand as both our fingers sink into her. Her other hand is in my hair, clenching it tight as I find her clit and apply just the tiniest amount of pressure, but it’s enough to make her gasp. And it’s a beautiful sound.
‘It’s all gonna work out, baby,’ I whisper in her ear as we both continue to work on her. But I’m the one in control. Her hand’s over mine, I’m the one guiding this. ‘This whole crazy ride – it’s gonna work out.’
I kiss her neck and she sighs again and our fingers are slipping and sliding against her pussy because she’s so freaking wet!
‘I know,’ she breathes, and I press the heel of my palm against her and she comes, her body shuddering against mine, her fingers pulling at my hair.
She knows.
She gets it.
Like me she’s clinging on to this life we now have with both hands, because neither of us is ready to let go.
Not yet.
Not just yet…
Kira
Resting my elbow on the desk and my chin on my balled-up fist I watch him through the floor-to-ceiling window that looks out from the office on to the gallery floor. He’s out there, looking at a somewhat abstract sculpture with a client – a casually-dressed and rather attractive middle-aged man. I can’t make head-nor-tail of it myself – the sculpture, I mean. To me it looks like something someone threw together in a pottery class at school. But that’s because the art world is still something very alien to me. And yet, both here at the gallery and at home in Neal’s apartment I’m surrounded by beautiful and expensive pieces that I can’t appreciate, because I don’t understand this world. And he’s trying to teach me, he really is, but the distractions are constant. And when he’s with me I can only concentrate on him, everything else just fades into white noise.
But I love watching him immerse himself in this world. It’s where he belongs, here, amongst beautiful pieces and the people who love them. I’m still not sure he belongs with me. Not really. I still think I may become something he tires of, in time, I don’t know. The slow-burn of paranoia that’s beginning to infiltrate my thoughts every day is starting to hang heavy over me now. It’s making me more and more needy and that’s something I have never, ever been. But I need him. He’s poisoned me with his toxins; I’m addicted to him, and I can’t change that – I don’t want to. I just need to deal with it all a bit better than I am doing. And I know the only way I can do that is to put Kira Hardy away for good, and live my life as Kira Blu. All of the time. Kira Hardy doesn’t belong here. I don’t think Neal wants her anyway. He doesn’t even know her, because she very rarely comes alive. But he wants Kira Blu. Despite anything he tells me, that’s who he fell in love with – his escort. His plaything. And if that’s who I need to be to keep him, to keep this life I need to live, then I’ll live it as Kira Blu.
I shift my focus back to Neal out on the gallery floor, watching him intently as he slowly circles the sculpture, one hand in his pocket, the other pointing things out to the client who’s hanging on his every word. But he’s hard to ignore, Neal Cannon. And I smile slightly as I continue to watch him, because the enthusiasm on his face is evident as he talks, the energy oozing out of him as he once more strides purposefully around the sculpture, every now and again pushing his glasses back up his nose. Even from in here I can see his eyes are shining. But his eyes are also full of that same enthusiasm when he’s at The Playroom – our private one, and the one we share with all those others. He’s as excited in that world as he is in this one. Is it really possible we can live in both?
I look down at the desk, at the magazine lying open in front of me. I picked it up from the pile Neal keeps on the sideboard at the back of the office, in the hope that I might learn something from it. But all I’ve really done is stare blankly at pictures of paintings and vases and lots of pretty things that are worth more money than I can dream of. I haven’t really learned anything, and my stomach drops as I realise I just don’t belong here, in this part of Neal’s world. I don’t feel comfortable here. I feel as though people are judging me; I feel as though every person who walks through those doors, every client we meet with, it’s like they all know what I once was. What I used to do. What I still do, except, it’s just for him now. Just for Neal. And for everyone else who wants to watch.
Raising my head I notice that Neal’s client has gone. He’s talking to Barry now, and I lower my gaze back to the magazine. I don’t want there to be even the slightest chance of catching eye contact with Barry. And I silently curse myself for once more letting the fact he gets to me bother me as much as it does. But that’s only because of what I feel for Neal. If I didn’t care about him as much as I do; if I didn’t need him or want him like the drug I crave to get through each day then his brother would mean shit to me. But I think that if I have any chance of making anything work with Neal then I’m going to have to get Barry on side. At some point. I just don’t feel much like doing it right now, and yet, I’ve handled bastards like him so many times before. What makes him so different to all the other narrow-minded idiots who think of me as nothing more than an expensive prostitute?
‘You alright?’
My head shoots up at the sound of Neal’s voice, and I force a smile as I see him standing there in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his dark hair falling slightly down over his forehead. And I allow that urge I have to push it back off his handsome face to get the better of me as I walk over to him and slide my fingers through his hair, kissing him quickly. He catches my waist and pulls me closer and the second his lips touch mine in a longer, deeper kiss I feel all those doubts and worries melt away into nothing. They only appear when he isn’t right beside me; inside me. Which is why I need him close, all of the time. He leaves my side and I turn into the kind of person I never, ever wanted to be. I can’t go backwards. I can’t be that weak, vulnerable woman I once was all those years ago. I can’t. It’s dangerous. I’ve lived that shit before and I’m not going there again. I’m pulling Kira Blu out of her box permanently. He’s seen the last of Kira Hardy. She’s as dead as that other woman I used to be. The one who caused me to create Kira Blu in the first place. Kira Hardy was just a name I needed for bank accounts and bills and all that official crap that goes with real-life. But she’s dead now. Kira Blu is taking her place, for good. That’s the only way I can live this life; the only way I can even begin to cope with the things Neal Cannon is making me feel.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Barry’s invited us to dinner.’
And that’s all it takes for my stomach to drop. And he notices that, and he smiles again as he gently runs his fingertips along my cheek in an attempt to placate me. It feels good, but this is normality creeping into our world now, and I’d rather it wasn’t happening. It’s kicking up too many reminders of something I struggle every day to forget.