Moaning, he thrust deeper. “Yes, Mia, like that.”
Lost in this sea of passion, sucking him deeper, I wanted to tell him how complete this made me feel. How perfect it felt to have him inside my mouth, lavishing him with all the pleasure and love he deserved.
“I’ve waited long enough,” he said, shifting away and reaching beneath the arch of my back, sweeping me toward him as his smile fell upon my throat, his lips gliding up to my earlobe and nipping, sending spasms of pleasure down into my belly and farther still. My heartbeat quickened, my breaths came faster. I surrendered, wanting nothing more than this.
He reached for my nipples, tweaking them hard with his steady fingers. Leaning in, he lapped at the pertness, suckling, elongating the bud with his expert mouth, causing my deep throated moans to echo. Moving over my other breast, he took his time, licking, nipping, causing me to shudder. His right hand lowered between my legs and cupped there between my shaking thighs, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me as he ran a fingertip along my cleft.
“You’re wet for me,” he said, nudging me to lay on my back.
Planting kiss upon kiss down my abdomen, rimming my navel with his tongue, his mouth darted downward. It reached my inner thighs, teasing me with his flitting tongue, threatening at any moment he’d wander farther.
Like he did now.
A groan escaped me, a cry of pleasure, then I snapped into silence as he stole my voice, my breath, my reason. Sending shivers through me, he stunned my clit with blissful circles, spearing into me, bringing me so close to my release.
“I’ll tell you when you can come,” he said firmly.
“Oh,” I moaned. “Please.”
“I can see I’m going to have to take you through orgasm training.” He nibbled my clit.
My protracted moan gave my answer.
There came the rip of a condom and then he eased it on, unraveling it over his pulsing head.
“Please,” I said. “Richard.”
Just the sight of him, the suspense of knowing my time was imminent, sent tingles into my body, causing me to weaken, my thighs shuddering.
He raised me up and I straddled him, my thighs on either side of his legs. “We’ll take it slow, baby,” he whispered. “This will be easier for you.” Grinding against him, I stroked my clit against his hardness, stunned by this delicious throbbing, these tingles in my tender sex. Leaning back, I gazed upwards. Secure in his arms, I felt his mouth capture a nipple again as I took in the stars moving as languidly as we were below.
“We come from the same star,” I whispered.
“We do,” he said, nipping at a hardened nipple.
“I need you.”
He flipped me onto my back, snatching my breath away, and his hand guided my head to rest upon the blanket. Richard’s full weight came over me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, taking short unsteady breaths. His lips fell upon mine again, his kiss widening my mouth, his tongue possessing me, sending shivers throughout my body. I tasted myself, his kiss sharing that sweetness and making me quiver.
My back arched when he entered me, easing inside, stretching me wide, bringing a mixture of pain and pleasure and blinding me. He thrust deep, unrelenting, his cock giving me the discipline I deserved, had yearned for the first time I’d laid eyes on him. The impossible dream of having him inside me realized.
Orbs of light flashed above but I was not really seeing them. I was too distracted by the tightness down there mingled with stunning sensations of being taken for the first time.
Richard stilled. “How are you doing?”
Breathlessly, I blinked away. “Oh, amazing.”
He moved his hips in a circle.
“Oh.” My fingernails dug farther into his back. “Oh…yes…don’t stop. Not ever. Like never.”
He smiled. “How’s the view?”
I stared into his eyes. “Spectacular.”
He gave a heart stopping smile.
His thrusts quickened, rewarding me, bringing me closer, threatening to throw me over the edge as his rhythm increased, relentlessly mastering my body. Digging my fingernails deeper into his flesh, I clawed my way closer and closer…
Freefalling. Tumbling beneath the planets, rolling under the stars.
“Mia,” he whispered. “You may come.”
Lost in a sea of pleasure, I was gone, dazzled beneath him, desire coursing through my veins. I was caught up, captured by this intoxicating mixture of danger and passion as I cried out, my orgasm exploding. I was stunned by this blinding pleasure. He bucked into me, stiffened, and then stilled.
Both of us were stolen by this moment. Stolen by each other.
CHAPTER 24
NESTLED ON A HILL in Hacienda Heights is a Buddhist monastery called His Lai Temple. It’s where Richard brought me the very next morning.
I couldn’t remember ever being happier. All I needed was to be with him.
Standing halfway up a stone stairway that led into the temple, Richard pulled me into a hug, planting kiss upon kiss on my head. I marveled at how much affection one man could give a woman. Wrapping my arms around him and snuggling into his chest, I breathed him in, breathed in the peace I’d yearned for all my life. Being with him here, like this, was better than I could have ever imagined and more than I would ever have dared dream for.
Last night in the planetarium Richard had bestowed nothing but tenderness, and those memories drew me back. I’d fallen head over heels with my mercurial lover. Peering up at Richard now, I wanted him to know how much it meant that he’d shared this place with me, knowing how important it was to him. He’d told me on the way here that this temple provided an extraordinary sanctuary. It was his all time favorite place. I couldn’t wait to see it.
“You’re proof of God,” he said.
“You are.” Taking Richard’s hand, I brought it to my lips and kissed it.
“Thank you for coming with me.”
We strolled up the main stairway, making our way into the grand entrance. Up high, resting along the back wall, sat three Buddha statues gazing down upon us, emanating serenity. A few other people mingled here and there chatting quietly. Richard’s face softened as his gaze settled upon two Tibetan monks, their orange robes pristine, their voices low. They moved serenely, kneeling before the three Buddha’s and each offering a bowl of fruit. They set them before their deity’s feet.
I’d already seen evidence of Richard’s interest in eastern religion from the elements he’d brought into Enthrall as well as his home. These unfolding moments felt like a gift.
Right in front of us in the center, resting upon a table, were two jars standing side-by-side, each filled with small blue plastic balls. Richard dropped two dollars through the top of the plastic box between them and removed one of them. He gestured for me to do the same.
“Inside each one is a sacred message,” he said, resting it within his palm. He carried the ball over to a wooden crusher and smashed it open. Inside lay a tiny scroll which he unraveled and read. “Turns out I need to bend like a reed. What does yours say?”
It felt sad to crush the cute little ball. Have it join all those other pieces of plastic that had gone before it. Shards of blue lay discarded on the bottom.
Richard took mine from me and crushed it beneath the wooden lid. “May I?” He peeled open the cracked ball and read the message on the tiny scroll.
I tried to peek.
Richard brought his hand to his mouth, suppressing his laughter. His eyes lit up and crinkled with joy.
“What does it say?” I failed to ease it back out of his hand.
Richard laughed hysterically. “Mia, this is in Cantonese. You took it out of the wrong jar.”
I burst out laughing, seeing how ridiculous that was.
“We’ll keep it safe.” He tucked it into his coat pocket. “There’s something alluring about a mystery.”
“You’re a mystery.”
He smiled coyly, took my hand in his as he led us down
a well lit hallway.
We stepped out of the first temple only to be greeted by a sweeping stone courtyard. Up ahead stood yet another temple, only this one was larger than the first, it’s design intricate. The dramatic, highly decorated tiled roof swept wide above it. It felt like we’d traveled to Asia. The fall breeze rustled leaves around us. Another monk strolled past. A few other visitors ambled by.
There, to our right, stood a fountain surrounded with even more statues and all of their expressions serene. The soothing sound of the falling water filled the courtyard. We made our way up the sweeping stairway, soon reaching the second temple.
Following Richard’s lead, I took one of sticks of incense stored in a jar and we made our way over to the open candle flame to light them. Carried on a wisp of white smoke came the scent of jasmine. I closed my eyes and breathed it in.
“Say a prayer,” said Richard.
“A wish.”
That he’d open up to me and let me in. Give us the chance we needed for our relationship to stand any chance of surviving.
He broke my gaze.
Inside the shrine we were greeted by three more Buddha statues, only these were much grander. Reverently, we knelt upon the plush red cushions and admired the grand, golden gods.
“We’re not worshiping them,” whispered Richard, gesturing toward them. “These symbols are merely used to help us focus our minds, stir devotion, and elicit gratitude.”
Soaking in their peace, grateful for these moments of quiet, I marveled at the kaleidoscope of Richard’s life and his ability to stretch across the spectrum of human experience including extremes of pain, pleasure, and, more surprising, spirituality.
The scent of incense. The hushed silence. The reverence of others.
There were thousands of tiny perfectly aligned Buddhas set inside small alcoves in the surrounding walls, each with a personalized plaque beneath, and I wondered if they represented loved ones who’d died. We knelt for some time, my hand in his, our incense held out before us, sharing the sacredness.
Richard gestured he’d found comfort here. I had too.
We placed our still burning incense sticks just outside the shrine in what looked like a miniature black temple. Gently, we set them side by side and upright in the center of the sand. Smoke wafted along with the promise our prayers would be heard. We made our way over to the temple tea and souvenir shop where Richard found us a private corner table. We nursed our china cups of tea and continued to savor the peacefulness. Richard’s shoulders were relaxed and for the first time I sensed his calmness. This place made it easy to welcome the tranquility in. Soothing lost souls who came to find refuge. It’s non-judgmental aura comforted.
“Cameron brought me here three days after I arrived in L.A.” Richard’s gaze swept the room as though remembering.
Wrapping my fingers around my cup, warming them, I sipped my tea, refreshed by its delicate flavor.
“I have a confession,” said Richard softly.
“Oh.”
“My last name isn’t Booth.”
“You changed it?”
He offered a look of sympathy and it made me shift in my seat.
“My real name is Richard Booth Sheppard.”
My mind raced with all the reasons he might have changed it, and it was hard to settle on one. Having Googled him it made sense why I’d found nothing.
“About six years ago,” he said, “I was a successful stockbroker living in Manhattan. I loved my job. Loved my life. I had it all, or so I thought.” He broke my gaze, taking a moment. “I worked for my father. He’d always been a whiz with numbers. He was renowned as the master when it came to finance. By the time I was twenty my father had amassed an enormous fortune. I’m talking billions.” Richard paused, his expression pained. “Everyone, including my two older brothers, worshipped him. Of course what we didn’t know was my father had masterminded the most elaborate insider trading scheme the financial world had ever seen.”
I placed my cup on the table.
He took a sip from his. “You know what insider trading is?”
“I think so.”
“Employees divulge secrets about their company. Non-public information that would greatly benefit those exploring the buying or selling of a security. Stocks, bonds, that kind of thing. The investor therefore has an advantage over other investors. When a share falls, you buy it. Lots of them. I’m talking millions of them. You can only juggle the pieces of the puzzle for so long until the single fact cannot be denied: the money’s being manipulated, as are employees, along with the financial market.”
I felt terrible for him. I could only imagine the shame of having a father hurt so many people.
Richard swallowed hard. “As soon as I’d heard my father had been arrested, I drove over to the city jail to see what our lawyers could do. My father was held without bail. I was permitted a few minutes with him.” Richard rubbed his chest as though the pain from that day had found him again.
He gave a nod he was ready to continue. “The first thing you notice about prison is the smell. The second, the noise. The shouting. I was terrified I was going to throw up in front of my father. Even after all he had done I still wanted to do the right thing in front of him. You know what my father told me in those few minutes I had with him?”
I thirsted for the tea no longer in my cup.
“My father told me all of this was my fault. That he had done all of it for my mother and her three sons. That the pressure for us to attend the best schools and garner the best education had weighed so heavily he’d felt he had no choice.” Richard paused, catching his breath. “My father was unrepentant. He delivered the burden of guilt upon me. But that wasn’t the worst of it.”
A heaviness settled in my chest.
“While I drove home I went over the words that would reassure Emily, my fiancé. Reassure her I’d get all the money back her family had invested in my father’s business. It was all gone. Confiscated by the feds. I went over and over my speech in the car. It took three hours to get home. Traffic was heavy. After all, Wall Street had been decimated and New York was on its knees.” He used the next few moments to steady himself.
“That ride in the elevator to my penthouse was the longest journey I’ve ever taken. I eventually managed to get the key in the door. Emily’s handbag was on the sofa, as was her cell, so I knew she was home. The news was on, discussing my family’s scandal in the background. It was so unlike her to leave the TV on. She hated noise. Preferred music. Classical. Incriminating photos were shown just to make sure the public had a good idea of who’d ruined their lives. One of them was of Emily and I at a fundraiser. She apparently was guilty by default. She was an attorney and had nothing to do with finance.
“Our place was vast. Situated on the upper east side of Fifth Avenue. We used to sit at the window with our coffees in the morning and stare out at the park. I liked it there.” He coughed to clear his throat. “Emily was in the bath. She used to say it helped her relax. I’ve always preferred showers. When I found her she was immersed in red tinged water from where she’d slit her wrists.” Richard stared past me though he didn’t focus on anything. “Her suicide note explained everything. As I took her in my arms, begging her not to leave me, all I could think of were my father’s words, telling me this was my fault. I believed him of course, as we so often do. I’d not been attentive enough to see my father was an illusionist.”
I wanted to tell him it had been his father’s doing and not his, but all I could muster was, “I’m so sorry.”
“Within a week, I’d buried Emily, put our home up for sale, and flown to L.A. Cameron met me at the airport. I don’t remember much about the flight or those first few weeks at his place. I remember this place though.” His gaze roamed fondly. “Cameron let me stay with him. Insisted on it. He was worried about me. I was having a problem with forming words.”
“Cameron helped you?”
“Saved me. At first he referred me to a traditi
onal therapist. She didn’t know what to do with me. The second and third therapists I went to both agreed the only treatment that would help was ECT. An electric shock to jumpstart my brain. Their second choice was a chemical straightjacket. Cameron refused to let them do that to me. He was of course reluctant at first to take me on as a client, considering we’re best friends, not to mention the nature of what he practices, but I can be very persuasive. I insisted I didn’t want to forget the pain. The diagnosis landed on PTSD. In the end we went for the lesser known treatment of facing the pain head on. Cameron’s technique.” Richard’s focus returned as though he’d joined me once more within the cafe. “It worked.”
“That explains why you’re so close to Cameron.”
“He’s always there for me. Never judges me. He proved himself as a friend when I arrived homeless and without a job.”
“Is that why you took the position at Enthrall?”
“I was having sessions with Cameron and was actually hanging out there so much I kind of slid into it.” He shrugged. “I really am happy there. I met you there.”
“Do the girls know about your story?”
“Yes. They’re discreet, but you’ve already discovered that.”
“It also explains why Cameron’s so protective over you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“You never use your real name now?”
“I dropped Sheppard in hope of distancing myself from…” He gestured the rest.
Leaning forwards, I took his hands in mine, curling my fingers around his.
He squeezed my hands. “This is why I pushed you away. Not because I don’t care about you but because I would never want to expose you to my past. I’ve been trying to protect you. I let Emily down terribly. I’m responsible for her death. She was so fragile.”
[Enthrall Sessions 01.0] Enthrall Page 22
