Trust: Betrayed
Page 24
She moaned and he lifted her in his arms, gathering her close to him, as she let her head fall to his shoulder. He marveled at her innocent face and beautiful body. He couldn’t believe his luck. When he placed her on the bed, she reached for him, bringing him down for a kiss. A hungry kiss this time.
He ungainly took off his pajama shorts and lay down on top of her, careful with his weight.
She pushed him lightly and he rolled away.
His face registered the frustration he was feeling, but as she shifted and kneeled between his thighs, running her hands up and down his legs, he propped on his elbows in awe.
She smiled at him and her tongue flicked on the head of his erection.
“Eve,” he growled, shuddering from that simple, tiny contact. His head fell back with a groan as Eve took him into her mouth.
Ethan was completely lost as Eve sucked him. With a front row seat, he could only watch while she used one small hand to reach between her legs and caress herself as she pleasured him in an erotic rhythm. She moaned and looked at him, telling him that she loved the act as much as he did. Soft sounds of her mouth and tongue and his grunts filled the room. The sight of her on her knees, her lips stretched to accommodate him and her hand caressing herself drove him mad. He felt her tongue stroke him rapidly as her cheeks hollowed to suck him deeper.
I need to come. Right. Now. “Eve!” He wanted to touch her, to caress her breasts and her soft body. He wondered at her taste.
She moved and her silky hair curtained her face as she angled her body over his and carefully lowered herself on him.
She pretended to struggle to take him, clenching her inner muscles, and said, “Oh! You are big.”
This is so good. Hot desire pumped into Ethan’s manhood, making him swell even more and he grabbed her hips and thrust in her. He gasped as he burrowed deeper, “You feel so good, baby.”
Eve closed her eyes tight and let out a faked gasp of pain.
He stopped, unsure. “Did I hurt you?”
She bent down and whispered in his ear, “Just a bit. But it’s okay.”
Damn, Ethan. She’s a virgin. “I’m sorry,” he cupped her face and kissed her lips gently.
“Don’t stop, Ethan,” she pleaded and tentatively moved down more.
Awkwardly, Ethan thrust up as she rocked down.
“Am I doing this right?” she asked shyly.
I don’t have a clue, but it seems so. “Perfect.” Ethan felt her lips searching his, felt her hands gripping his shoulders and her body tightening around him.
They found a more tuned pace and finally set in a fine tempo.
Ethan closed his eyes tight as a starburst took him and exploded, sweeping him in light, washing away every previous fear, replacing it with a pleasure so deep he thought he’d died.
The unexpectedness of Eve’s orgasm only made it more intense, and she shuddered and whispered his name as she came, burying her face on Ethan’s chest.
He settled on the pillows with a satisfied sigh and looked up at the ceiling, caressing her back. He wanted to ask if everything was all right; if he had hurt her too bad, but didn’t know how.
Eve raised her head and smiled at him, “Oh, Ethan. You were so gentle. Thank you.”
“Did you like it?” Ethan asked, his voice full of concern, betraying his nervousness.
She bobbed her head, “It was wonderful. Can we do it again?”
A happy grin spread his lips, “I guess so.”
Ethan slowly pulled away from beneath Eve’s sleeping body. She moaned softly, but didn’t wake up. After the second time they’d made love, they’d talked about nothing and everything, and then made love again. Afterwards, they held each other in silence and she drifted off to sleep.
Ethan walked to his veranda and stretched looking at the sky. The night was beautiful, the stars were bright, reflecting on the Mediterranean Sea. The weather was cooler at that time of the night, but he didn’t care. With every second he passed with Eve, his life seemed to righten. He wished it would never end. He returned to bed and pulled her into his arms.
And then, with his body sated and his mind near sleep, he began to understand that even with the deep scars his parents had left on his soul, he could enjoy life.
Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse.
Saturday, March 27th, 2010.
1.27 a.m.
Ethan shook his head hard. He didn’t want to remember Eve. Even after all these years, the betrayal hurt still. In spite of everything, he knew he also had to be grateful.
His eyes searched for the beautiful Buccellati silver frame. Sophia.
His gaze swung to the woman on the bed. He knew that she had been making an effort to please him by emulating Sophia’s style. In the last few days, she had become even more like the love of his life. He smiled sadly. No one can replace Sophia.
As if Barbara could hear his thoughts, she stirred. A moment later she rolled toward his side and her fingers searched for him. She sat on the bed and looked around.
In the dimness of the room, the motionless figure that stared back at her in stony silence looked lonely and, for the first time, Barbara took pity on that man. He had everything, but love. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied dryly. “Go back to sleep, Sophia.”
Her mind spun, searching for what Sophia would have said. And decided that action sometimes spoke louder than words. She rose from the bed thanking her acting training.
Barbara never felt very comfortable walking around naked. She hadn’t any problems with her body, but she wasn’t used to it. She mentally shrugged and concentrated on the task at hand. Not that it was a difficult one. Ethan Ashford was a very handsome man.
And very generous too, she was reminded, when the soft light of the side lamp in the sitting room glittered on the diamond tennis bracelet he had given her the day before.
The way Ethan’s eyes devoured her face and then her body sent a giddy thrill down her spine. She stopped in front of him and bent down, speaking daringly close to his lips, as she imagined Sophia would do, “I heard what you said, but I should warn you that I’ve never been good at taking directions.”
Jesus! Every day this woman is more and more like Sophia. Ethan ran his hands over her back up to her nape, gently pulling her head toward his, taking her mouth in a hungry kiss.
When he broke the kiss, he grinned mischievously at her and said, “Then, do your worst.”
Craigdale Castle.
9.29 a.m.
Soft light poured through the gap in the curtains and Sophia felt a large, warm hand caressing her naked back. It was a wondrous way to wake up. She lifted her head and found Alistair staring down at her.
She didn’t speak nor did he. There was a peaceful quiet in the room that they seemed in agreement not to disturb.
Alistair was propped on the pillows, his long hair streaming over his broad shoulders. He looked deliciously savage, but content as well. His hand moved up to her hair and he gently combed it with his fingers, resting his hand on the small of her back where it ended.
Something in the depth of his green gaze fired to life. Something that made her melt inside. She licked her lips unconsciously and his gaze lit up further, until the green of his eyes was a slim ring around the dilated black of his pupils. His breathing roughened.
She didn’t resist the silent invitation as his lips parted. His hand tightened around her waist when she pulled his head down to gently kiss him. It was barely a brush of lips, but one that made his already warming desire boil.
Alistair pushed her onto her back as his tongue lapped her mouth, warm and rough, outlining the curve of her lips and then running along the seam, demanding entrance.
Unable to deny him anything, she kissed him and his moan sent shivers down her spine that turn to a delicious burning as he kissed her back senselessly.
“You’re so responsive. You’re already on fire,” Alistair whispered as his hand trailed down her body. His hand cupped
her and she gasped, arching her body in bed.
He kissed his way down, with light kisses as two fingers dipped into her.
Sophia moaned as he softly bit and licked her clitoris. His hands moved to palm her buttocks and he gently kneaded and lifted them open. “You have such an ass, Sophia,” he blew softly and with the tip of his tongue rimmed her tight ring.
“Alistair,” Sophia gasped astonished at the unusual caress.
“Does it feel good?”
She was so surprised she couldn’t form any thoughts. “I- Do it again.”
He chuckled low before he licked her again and this time his tongue probed deeper.
“Ah,” she moaned and her hips jerked in his hands.
His hands lowered her hips back to bed and he ordered, “Turn.”
She opened her eyes; a cautious look on her face.
“Soon, Sophia. But not today.” He smiled wickedly, his green eyes blazing with the idea, “Turn. On your hands and knees.”
He went to his side of the bed and opened a drawer on the bedside table, but stopped before taking out what was inside. “Do you trust me?”
“No pain?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head, “No pain, no violence. Promise.”
“All right,” she breathed. “What is it?”
He smiled naughtily, “A surprise. Just turn around.”
Sophia didn’t hesitate. This was Alistair. She wanted him, her body craved his touch. She turned over and pushed onto her hands and knees. She slowly crawled backward to get closer to him.
A firm hand gently gripped her hip and his knee nudged her legs farther apart and she spread them to give him better access. As soon as he was satisfied with her position, he slid his hands over the curve of her buttocks.
He squeezed and fondled her breasts. “I am going take you like this, Sophia. Like a stallion covering a mare.”
Sophia closed her eyes and braced her palms against the bed in an effort to keep from falling, as her mind conjured all sorts of naughty images. She felt extremely vulnerable and aroused in that position. Her defenses were down. He could take her as he liked, do anything he wanted, and she didn’t want to stop him. Again his hand caressed her backside, caressing and rubbing until she sighed with pleasure.
He released her hip and came down over her until his body lightly rested against her curved back. The bed dipped as he braced his weight with one hand. He just slid one of his hands from her hip to curve under her belly, then lower until his fingertips teased her seam. He growled softly as he located her clitoris, rubbing back and forth until low moans burst from her parted lips. “That’s it. Nice and slow.”
Her eyes closed as she lowered her head and chest to the sheets and abandoned herself to the lust that coursed through her veins. A loud moan left her lips as she rocked on his fingers.
“Easy, now.” He shifted again and Sophia felt a slippery gel and a cold tip probing her anus and then pushing in. She gasped as a shudder ran through her body and tightened up in reflex. She didn’t know if she feared the pain or the pleasure.
“This is about pleasure. Relax,” he urged softly as he touched her clitoris with one talented fingertip and pressed in the anal plug. And turned on its vibrator.
A shattered scream left Sophia’s mouth.
“Good?”
“Oh.” There was no coherent thought in her mind, while so many sensations burned through her lower body. “Oh. Yeah,” she half gasped, half screamed.
“More?” He pressed the plug a little deeper as she moaned loudly and writhed, rubbing her breasts on the bed.
Alistair’s fingers worked on her. One of his hands ran over her back and gently kneaded her butt. “Beautiful,” he rasped.
His finger slid lower, discovering how wet and ready she was to receive him, but he didn’t enter yet. He traced upward again to continue tormenting her. He applied a little more pressure, a little faster, and Sophia gasped and rocked her hips. He pushed the plug even deeper. He leaned on her and said in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you and make you forget your own name. And remember only mine.”
“Fuck me then, Alistair Connor,” she provoked, backing onto him.
He grabbed her hips with firm hands, positioning himself, “Hold on to the bedpost.”
It was all the warning she got, before he hammered into her. She jerked forward with a strangled sound and asked, “Again.”
She felt full to bursting, stretched so tight around him, it was almost painful.
“I’m going to ride you hard, Sophia.” The words came out as a near growl. His voice was hoarse and raspy as he hung on to his control by a mere thread. “Just keep still and take it.”
She had no choice. Her head was bent onto the mattress and her arms were stretched in front of her, her hands gripping the bedpost firmly. Her knees were her only support as he drove into her again and again. Images battered her mind.
How must he look mounted over me? Her mouth went completely dry and she closed her eyes as pleasure coursed through her body.
She loved how hard and big he felt as he sank into her, stretching her walls. She was completely at a loss to describe the overwhelming pleasure that took hold of her body.
Grabbing her tightly, he mercilessly forged on, his fingers digging into her hips, breaching her more, and commanded, “Touch yourself. I want to see it.”
She gasped as her own fingers touched her. It was daring and bold and made her feel powerful and free. She knew she wasn’t going to last long.
“That’s it,” he rasped, even more turned on. He pressed down closer to her back after he was fully inside her. He pinned her under his body as he braced himself on the bed. He placed kisses along her bare shoulder.
She moaned louder, urging him on. Her body quivered from the strong, intense pleasure and the last push to climax, when he withdrew almost totally from her and drove back in with one powerful thrust.
“Alistair Connor!” She cried out as excruciating ecstasy tore through her. Her muscles clamped down strongly on his arousal, as her body shuddered in a forceful release.
But Alistair wouldn’t let it finish like that. His fingers dipped again to caress her oversensitive clitoris. The vibration in her ass, his rough thrusts and his fingers brought Sophia once more to the edge.
“Come for me again,” he grunted, his breathing harsh, as he increased the depth of his strokes, building pleasure taking hold of her again.
The need to come grew from a steady ache to a gnawing necessity.
“Alistair,” she pleaded.
His fingers left her for a split second and she moaned loud when the vibrations in her ass throbbed quicker. He moved inside her again, frantically drawing out the climax until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel. She wondered if it were possible to die from too much pleasure.
“Now, Sophia.” He was too thick, too big, too deep. He plunged, his hips slapping against her buttocks, sending the plug even deeper.
A deep slam of his, in time with a pressured circle of his fingers around her clitoris and the taking out of the plug, was all it took to send Sophia over again, spiraling up in wondrous sensations and then down in powerful release.
Alistair drew torturous breaths as his own climax seemed to never end, Sophia’s body clenching again and again around him, leaving him dry. With a last deep and hard thrust, his world shattered and with a low and husky shout, he fell limply on the bed.
When Sophia opened her eyes again, Alistair was lying down on his side facing her. She smiled and whispered, “Hey.”
“Hey, you.” He scooted to kiss her on the lips and bring her to his chest. Looking down into her eyes, he asked quietly, “Was it good?”
She blushed and his chest trembled with contained mirth.
“I love it when you blush,” he whispered on her lips.
“If things keep going like this, there are two possibilities: I’ll either be blushing permanently or never again. I loved it.” She kissed his c
hest. “Alistair?”
“Hm?” He lifted her chin so he could see her face better.
“I want to know what your fantasies are.”
“You.” He grinned, his green eyes flashing beautifully.
“I better be.” She scowled and poked his chest with her finger, “But, really.”
“We are already working toward it.” His big hand ran over her back until he grabbed her butt and squeezed it.
“My ass,” she said.
He nodded but, in truth, his most ardent fantasy was to hear her saying the three words he had repeated so often already. I love you.
Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse.
10.35 a.m.
Ethan asked his housekeeper for more coffee and then turned to Scott. “You said you were keen on finding her secrets. So, what do you have to report?”
“Sir, I meant that everyone has things they consider too dark to turn public. She obviously has many. Too many disguises and subterfuges to just be afraid of criminals.”
“Hmm.” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. And MacCraig?”
Scott produced an envelope from his leather suitcase. “Several love affairs, if you can call them that. A great many more one night-stands. An unusual marriage.”
“Unusual marriage? In what way?”
“His wife and her sister, - if you get my meaning, sir - were known for their weird predilections.”
“A threesome? That isn’t so unusual,” Ethan said. You’d be shocked if you knew what my parents did.
“Oh, believe me, sir, there’s more.” Scott tapped the envelope with his new Montblanc pen. “This Heather, she didn’t try to hide it, although I didn’t find much about her. Before she died, their marriage was already breaking up and they both had multiple partners.”
“So he was unfaithful.”
“Apparently, sir, it was an accepted situation. An open marriage. I couldn’t find out exactly how it worked, but there are some clues in there. And, sir,” Scott’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone, “somehow Ghost managed to hack into his sister-in-law’s computer. She has lots of photos of them during sex. It’s all in there.”