by Leila Adams
Benjamin shook his head. Reaching for me, he intertwined our fingers. With my hands in his, he wrapped them behind my back, impeding my resistance. Pressing them into my lower spine, he pulled me up tight against his hard length. My breath caught as the friction sparked a deep need inside me. His mouth was on mine again, open and demanding, swallowing my moans. I tried to pull free, but his grip was unyielding. His kisses cascaded down my cheek to the hollow of my neck. I forgot about the little game and grew compliant, lost in the heady sensations. His tongue was wet and warm against me. He nipped my skin with his teeth, then drew it into his mouth. The effect was potent and deadly. My body lit up like a flash fire. Every time his lips touched my skin, shock waves thundered through me. Sweet Lord. Benjamin had no idea the thirst he was awakening and the effort it took to suppress.
Then, as if he led me in a dance, he spun me around, so my back was against his chest, and my arms crossed one over the other across my belly. He gathered both wrists and held them securely with a large palm, freeing a hand. Slowly he began to lower the zipper on my dress, the teeth sounding off loudly as they released in the quiet of the room. The fabric parted and he peeled it down deliberately until it fell off.
"God, I want you. You're so gorgeous," he mouthed into my collarbone as he laid a line of kisses along my shoulder. My head lolled back, and I closed my eyes. I stood there in my bustier and lace stockings, black silk against white skin, his warm lips gently sucking my flesh. I moaned in protest when he withdrew his mouth to turn me around. He flipped on a light switch behind me and interlaced our fingers again. Benjamin held me at arm's length, and his eyes traveled slowly over my body, appreciation evident in his stare.
We locked gazes, and he walked me backward through the hall to the bedroom.
"Don’t bother struggling. I won’t let you go; you’re mine. I will have you,” Benjamin whispered, his gaze blistering hot.
“You think so?” My voice came out low and throaty.
When the crook of my knees hit the edge of the mattress, he let go of my hands to yank the covers aside. Lowering me onto my back, he trapped me under his muscular thighs as he straddled my waist. He began to unbutton his shirt while I unbuckled his belt and fumbled with the closure on the front of his suit pants. Impatient, he whipped the white, starched garment off over his head, severing the single button still fastened, sending it sailing across the room.
“Don’t move,” he ordered as he got up from the bed. Toeing his shoes off, he removed his socks and shucked his pants and boxers together on the floor.
I followed his command, lost in the fantasy of his domination. I would allow him his conquest. But of course, it was all a charade. Surrendering control was a luxury I’d never have. I could only imagine how amazing it would be to trust someone so completely.
Benjamin joined me, lying down on the cool sheets, naked and beautiful. His shoulders were broad and powerful, his bronze, toned chest taut and rigid. He was beauty, and sex, and sinfully delicious chocolate all rolled into one. I ran my hands down his chest, reveling in his pure maleness.
For a few moments, our world slowed. He laid there next to me looking into my eyes with heartfelt devotion, tenderly threaded his fingers through my hair. Then he leaned in and kissed me. Gently. Deeply. Thoroughly claiming me. It was the kind of kiss fairy tales are made from, leaving me breathless and lightheaded.
“You're so perfect,” he whispered.
Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Emotions overwhelmed me, and I blinked back tears, refusing to acknowledge the effect his words had on my heart.
He feathered a hand over my silk corset and began to knead and massage a breast. Slipping an index finger into the cup, he pushed the fabric down. Circling the tip lightly, he watched it bead. My back arched off the bed when his tongue lashed out to caress it. I was a raw bundle of need by the time he leaned back.
“And sweet like candy,” he murmured.
Eased down my waist, he knelt between my parted thighs. Scorching my skin, he ran his hands over the black lace on my stockings, down the outside of my thighs, to the underside of my knees where he lingered to draw lazy circles with his fingertips. He continued his sensuous glide down the back of my calves, then slid off the bed. Picking up one ankle at a time, he removed my heels and let them drop.
The mattress dipped as Benjamin returned to the bed, kneeling over me. I ran my fingers down his chest through the light dusting of hair and over his firm abs. As my hands moved lower, he caught my wrists.
Benjamin laughed. “Oh no, baby, not yet. I’m strung too tight. You touch me now, and I’m likely to lose my shit. Sit up and turn around. Hold your hair up and don’t move until I tell you.”
I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat at his warning and the uncharacteristic dark edge in his voice. I was awestruck that his desire, this seemingly overwhelming craving was—for me.
I did as he said, resting my hands on the back of my head. Benjamin sat down behind me and began to undo the hooks on my corset. With each unlatching he kissed the newly exposed skin, laying a tiny wet trail down my spine. I shivered as he blew cool air along the damp path between kisses. When the last metal fastener released, he cupped my breasts as the guêpière fell onto the bed. I tried to stay still under the onslaught of pleasure, but was unsuccessful, and arched into his skillful fingers.
“I didn’t say you could move,” he breathed against my ear, drawing my body closer to his.
“Please, Benjamin, I need you,” I pleaded, tilting my head to the side to look at him.
He smiled. “I want you too, Liv, more than you can know. But I’ve waited too long to rush this.”
I groaned at the prospect of waiting. He reached up and grazed a knuckle down the side of my cheek. “Turn around baby,” he said as he lowered my hands. “Lie down on the bed.”
I did as he asked, moving onto my back. He leaned in and kissed me, his finger running through my hair, his tongue deep in my mouth devouring me. He rolled on top of me and flesh sizzled and seared, like water in a hot fry pan. His hands and mouth began a slow journey south until they met the remaining wisp of fabric that separated us. He slid his fingers around to my backside and flexed his hand squeezing me, kissing me through the lace. I bucked hard under his warm breath. Anticipating my reaction, he slipped my thong over my hips, rose up onto his knees and pulled it down my legs. He shouldered his way between my thighs, pushing them apart and lowered his head. I gasped as he began to stroke the most sensitive area of my body. With adept precision, he strummed the chords of my desire. He was sweeping me away; my resistance was wavering. I could get lost in this feeling. Oh God. My breath came out ragged. And for the first time in so many years, a crack formed in the fortress I’d built around my heart.
“Benjamin,” I whispered breathlessly as a pool of tension began to build and coalesce at my core.
“Mmm, baby, you’re so beautiful.” His words vibrated against my skin just before he bit down gently on my tender flesh. I gasped as every nerve in my body went electric, snapping like a high-tension wire, sending heat and sparks and blinding white light shooting into the night. Sweet bliss rolled over me, again and again, leaving me soaked and swollen.
Pressing my palms against his chest, I pushed him up onto his knees and marveled at the sight of his strong, male body. I raked my nails up the dark, rough hairs of his powerful thighs and across his flat stomach. I kissed his velvety skin. His essence lay heavy on my tongue. I could taste the life force that pulsed through his veins. My tongue and mouth met his body in undulating rhythm, rising and falling, tightening and releasing. We moved into a position of mutual pleasure. I knew what his body yearned for and how to satisfied it. He too knew the pleasure points of my body and teased me with his touch. Our mouths could deliver hot and cold sensations, delight and pain. Our tongues were skilled tools of passion, weapons of desire. We were of one mind, one force.
“Oh God, please,” I cried as the tension became acute.
Benjamin’s voice came out rough, “I need you now, Olivia.”
He shifted over me, his hands on either side of my arms, and lowered himself between my thighs. His hips rose to meet his, and in a single thrust, he filled me. I gasped, and Benjamin let out a growl as hot stone met wet flesh. Nerve endings on fire cried for satisfaction. Our movements became frantic, strained, a desperate push-pull. I wanted Benjamin in a way I had never wanted anyone before. I wanted him so deep in me he could touch my soul. I wrapped my silk-covered legs around his hips, trying to pull him in further and Benjamin thickened inside me.
“Can you feel that, Olivia? Can you feel me about to explode?” He grabbed my ass, tilting my hips, and opened my thighs wider. Pounding into me, he sent jolts of pleasure screaming through my system. “Again, Olivia, I want you to come again. Can’t hold out much longer. I’m taking you with me.”
My heart beat so fast I thought it would explode. “I’m…close,” I gasped, as a tingling began to run up and down my legs. A massive orgasm was building, one that threatened to crush me.
“I feel you, baby. Fell you grabbing me.”
My breath came out in a forced rush as the stimulation and friction exploded in ecstasy and I shattered into a million pieces. Calling out my name, with a hard penetrating thrust, Benjamin’s release took over. As he began to pulse and spill himself into me, another swell ripped through my body, sending us careening over the edge together in mindless pleasure.
Collapsing, we laid there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring the last vibrations as our breath returned to normal.
I felt raw, eviscerated, fragile, like a tiny bird holding her breath, imprisoned in a glass cage. Emotions threatened to shatter me. Tears stung the back of my eyes and I squeezed them shut to keep them from falling. The physical pleasure was too much, too powerful, too destructive on the stronghold around my heart.
We didn’t move for a long time until Benjamin finally turned off the light.
In the darkness, he placed a finger under my chin and raised my face to his. He whispered against my lips, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I murmured, hearing the sound of broken glass and the soft flutter of wings.
Chapter 4
I SUCKED IN QUICK, shallow gulps of air. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't lift my heavy arms or legs. Panic tightened my chest, coiling like a heavy constrictor threatening to swallow me whole. Oh no. Oh, God. I promised myself I wouldn't let this happen. I never meant for our relationship to go this far. It would never work. My heart pounded against my breastbone; blood roared in my ears. Dread, arctic and bitter, spread over me. I needed to go. I couldn’t stay. I had to leave, now!
I struggled to keep still and not give in to the anxiety racing through my veins. Edgy and desperate, I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I itched to move, frantic to get away, escape.
I shook myself mentally. Stop. You're okay. You're fine; everything is fine. Panic attack. That's what this was. I took slow deep breaths in through my nose and exhaled through my lips. After several agonizing minutes, the dark edges of my vision began to clear. Logic seeped in as the adrenaline rush subsided and I began to relax. I had to stay calm, deal with one issue at a time. And the only way to do that was to get out of here. Maybe I was being a coward, but I needed to create some space and gain some perspective.
Slowly I eased my way to the side of the bed careful to avoid tugging the covers and slipped off the edge. I stood motionless in the dark. The fingers on Benjamin's right hand twitched slightly, but his breathing remained even. Silently I began to search for my clothing. The black corset was on the floor next to the nightstand. I picked it up, the rigid boning contrasting with the soft silk under my fingertips. Kneeling beside the mattress, I ran a hand over the carpet under the skirt and found both stockings. My thong, where was my thong? I scanned the room. Under the edge of the comforter, Benjamin's pants and boxers laid in a heap. I brushed the spread aside and lifted the slacks gingerly. Damn. Holding the belt buckle securely, I lowered everything back to where it was. On tiptoes I rounded the bed, my eyes sweeping methodically. There it was by the chair next to Benjamin's sock. I snagged the black lace and padded toward the pile of clothes in the hallway. Stooping beside them I untangled my dress from my coat, dug through the layers to find my purse, and stepped silently into the bathroom.
I threw my clothes on under the glow of a tiny nightlight, then pulled a pen and paper out of my purse. I wrote a short message saying I'd call later; an emergency came up at work that needed handling this morning. On impulse, I grabbed the small bottle of perfume from the bottom of my bag and sprayed the paper.
Opening the door a crack, I listened for steady breathing. When a soft snore reached my ears, I crept over to the bed and placed the scented note on the empty pillow. Benjamin lay on his back; the covers tangled around his waist. He looked peaceful with an arm thrown over his head, his dark hair contrasting with the white linens, a hint of stubble on his handsome face.
Joy and a warm bloom of love spread over me like honey. The air caught in my throat, and I stood frozen on the spot, stunned, a giant hammer slamming into me. Oh, God. This was never meant to be. I couldn’t do this. Why had I been so foolish, so weak?
He loved me. He never said that before. I was torn between my fear and the chilling thought I was in love with him. I had guarded my heart for so long, been cautious to avoid personal entanglements, but it hadn't worked. Benjamin owned it now. My chest tightened, and I reached for him. One touch, that's all I wanted, to connect and reassure myself. I couldn't risk waking him, though. It took all of my self-control to pull my hand back and resist the urge to trail fingers along the side of his face.
That's when realization struck—Benjamin was still on East Coast time. It was late morning for him. If I didn't move quickly, he'd wake up and find me standing there.
Locating my shoes at the foot of the bed I hooked them over two fingers and retreated to the hall to pick up my coat. As gently as I could, I unlocked the deadbolt on the hotel door, turned the handle and pushed it open just wide enough to squeeze through. On the other side, I closed the door slowly to avoid the clang of metal on metal. Hearing the lock click quietly into place, I breathed a sigh of relief. Slipping on my shoes and coat, I hurried down the corridor.
I inhaled deeply, trying to quell the impending tide of edginess rising inside me as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor. It was too early for curbside taxi service. I asked a silver-haired gentleman at the reception desk to call a car for me. Rapping my leather gloves lightly in the palm of my hand, I waited while he dialed the phone. Replacing the receiver, he told me Yellow Cab was on the way. I thanked him and proceeded to the front entrance.
The once bustling lobby was now empty. Eerie quietness permeated the void, and a wave of anxiety came over me. Mornings were always like this. I hated those last minutes before dawn. I felt threatened. Vulnerable. I preferred to be inside huddled under blankets, warm and cozy in bed.
I put my foolish notions aside and stood before the large glass doors. I checked the time on my cell. If a cab didn't come soon, I'd miss my morning cocktail. I paced back and forth across the hotel entrance for fifteen minutes, my high heels clicking on the cold marble, my toe tapping picking up speed and growing louder every passing minute. I waited. It was now 5:45 a.m. I could walk to the Hyatt in twenty minutes. Another five—that's all I'd give the cab before I left. I peered out into the street and watched. I glanced at my phone once more.
That's it. Time is up. I'm out of here. I pulled on my gloves and left the Palace.
The streets were still and deserted. A cold, damp fog moved in from the bay like a dark shadow, blanketing the cityscape, distorting visibility and dimming streetlights. The marauding mist wrapped itself around everything in its path, consuming it, muting it. It fought to silence my hurried footsteps and for the most part triumphed. A chill ran through me, and uneasiness settled in my bones, visceral and unyieldin
g. This was not the panic of the morning. This was different, something more. Something was wrong. I didn't know what it was, but something was coming. Overhead the thick mist parted bathing me in light. I caught a glimpse of myself in a passing storefront window and swore softly. Reflected back at me was the image of a young woman dressed to the nines in designer clothes, exhibiting all the signs of wealth and privilege—a target for every low life in the city. I had been foolish not to wait for the cab.
I stopped at the corner for the red light, my nerves playing tricks on me. There it was again, for an instant, a stilted footstep not far behind. I spun around to locate the source, straining my ears. I listened intently to the sounds of the sleeping city. In the distance, I heard the faint hum of an electric MUNI bus, the shhh of wet tire tread meeting pavement, and the low bellow of the foghorns. Everything else was quiet. I searched the darkness for movement, tiny droplets of moisture collecting on my eyelashes. The world around me appeared as a charcoal still life—an artist's drawing of hard black shapes and shades of gray.
The signal turned green, and I crossed the intersection. A second set of feet began to mirror mine.
The fog rolled by like ghostly tumbleweeds, floating through the air and billowing along the sidewalk. I was nearly at the foot of Market when a car materialized out of the haze coming toward me. Slowing to a stop the driver's door swung opened, and a man with a face darkened by tattoos emerge from the car. I froze as the tall Mexican jumped onto the sidewalk blocking my path, trapping me between a tall concrete wall and the metal railings of the underground BART station. I took two steps back about to bolt for the pass-through to Davis Street when a heavyset gangbanger with a hood over his head walked out from behind an embankment, cutting off my exit. I turned around to see a third man step out of the shadows, his footsteps familiar.
I was surrounded.
The tall Mexican took a few steps toward me with a slow gangster strut, spine rigid and rolling shoulders pushed back a little too far, one hand stealing a quick tug on his low-slung jeans. I could see his features clearly now. His short black hair narrowed to a point between the graffiti-styled letters MS. Devil horns flanked the letters on each side. The second man moved in from my left, shoving the hood down on his shoulders. Inked across his shaved head above two outstretched fingers posed in a gang sign were the words Mara Salvatrucha. Teardrops hung below each coffee-colored eye. A mustache grew long past his lips and tangled around a gothic “13.” The man that followed me from the hotel closed the circle. All I saw was a blue bandanna before my attention snapped to the object he tossed from hand to hand, spinning in the air.
