‘Please! Darius!’ She didn’t know how to convey her needs to him, they were strangers after all. He smiled into her eyes and with more than a faint trace of satisfaction in his expression he unfastened her dress, removing his other hand temporarily to allow it to slither unhindered over her curves and fall to the floor, pooling like liquid around her feet.
The temperature in the room was quite cool which she hadn’t realised before. Now the slightly chill air wafted over her denuded body, drying the thin film of perspiration that had accumulated on the surface of her skin. She looked at the photographs and the pictures on the walls, visualising her own appearance at that moment, her bronzed tight body clad only in stockings and high-heeled shoes. With overwhelming narcissism she aroused herself.
If Darius was similarly aroused he didn’t show it. Not even a surreptitious glance at his crotch could reveal the answer. Using her released hand, Hillary felt his bulge, breathing a sigh of relief that it was large and firm. She had begun to wonder if he was actually capable of being turned on like other men. There was no doubt in her mind that his sexual predilections extended some distance outside the norm. Despite her churning emotions she smiled to herself; who was she to determine what was normal and what was not?
With trembling fingers she tried to open his fly, fumbling for a zipper and finding buttons instead. With all the uncoordinated finesse of an infant, she managed to undo each one, sliding her hand into the uncharted warmth that lay beneath. Despite her exploration Darius’s kisses did not miss a beat, nor did he stop rubbing her sex with his thigh, although she thought she sensed a slight quiver as she cupped the downy pair of peaches that were his balls.
Acknowledging that he had her well and truly hooked, Darius dared to release Hillary’s other arm, sliding both his hands around her hips to clasp her buttocks. Gradually, imperceptibly, he manoeuvred her around so that her rear view could be seen clearly as a reflection in the mirror. With satisfaction he watched his fingers kneading the pliant flesh of her bottom, parting the cheeks so that the tantalising cleft between them was fully exposed.
With great deftness he worked one finger inside the tight, puckered opening, moving it around slowly so that she would open up to him more before adding its opposite number. For her part, Hillary moaned loudly as he entered her with his fingers, enjoying the singularly painful pleasure of being thus ravished. In return she grasped his penis tightly with one hand and his balls with the other, squeezing and working them in time with his own manipulations of her.
She clearly felt his excitement building, the throbbing shaft beneath her fingers was becoming more and more erect with the first droplets of semen issuing from the tip and dribbling down her fingers. Not wishing to release her grip but concerned about spoiling his suit, she murmured his name, hoping he would stop momentarily and allow her to disrobe him. In reply he merely delved deeper into her, her passionate response resulting in a harder squeeze of his balls. All at once he exploded, the semen bursting from him like a gushing well of clear, viscous oil, coating her hands and stomach.
‘Your suit!’ she exclaimed, glancing down at his saturated clothing.
‘Do you care, Hillary?’ he questioned, adding a third finger to his manipulations. ‘I certainly don’t.’
She was taken aback by his response and didn’t know what to do with her semen-covered hands. After a few moments’ consideration she wiped them across her breasts, moaning as she spread the sensuous liquid over her soft skin. To her surprise, Darius bent his head, put out his thick pink tongue and started to lick her clean.
He obviously enjoys the taste of himself, she thought with a slight feeling of shock, watching him lap at her breasts with relish. In all her experience, she had never known a man do that before.
Cradling the back of his head in her hands, she gave herself up to the sensation of his mouth against her sensitive flesh, urging each of her swollen nipples into his mouth in turn. She felt as though there was a fire raging between her legs and longed for him to move his hands and mouth to touch her there instead. Trying to urge his head lower she applied a little pressure but his mouth would not leave her breasts.
Giving up the fight, she traced her hands over his shoulders and down his back, cursing the material that acted as a barrier between her flesh and his. She reached awkwardly under his jacket, freeing his shirt from the waistband of his trousers so that she could at least caress his naked back. His skin too felt like silk, she noticed and, as she moved her hands around to his stomach and chest, she found, with a little surprise, that his skin was as smooth and hairless as a new born babe’s.
With graceful ease he stretched himself upright once more, removing his fingers as he did so. Carefully he unknotted his tie and threw it on a nearby chair, then removed his jacket and likewise disposed of it. With rapidly mounting excitement bubbling up inside her at this new development, Hillary began to unbutton his shirt. He stopped her, holding her wrists and gazing deep into her eyes once more with the unique expression that almost drove her insane with desire. ‘Climb on to the bed. I’ll do this.’
Pausing only to kick off her shoes, she did as she was asked and lay on her side, watching him as he removed the last of his clothing. His body was everything she had expected it to be and more – firmly toned, well proportioned and with a rampant cock of more than ample proportions. At the sight of his completely naked body, Hillary sucked in her breath. He walked to the head of the bed and untied the thin silken cord that held the thick drapes in place; he did the same with the cord at the foot of the bed, then circumnavigated the monstrous piece of furniture to undo the matching cords on the other side.
Climbing on to the step, he leaned forwards as far as he could and kissed her hard. Then, while she was still caught in the magic of his kiss, he caught her wrists and swiftly tied them with the cords, doing the same with her ankles before she could protest so that she was helplessly spread-eagled before him.
The expression on his face as he surveyed his handiwork made her come. ‘Go with it, Hillary, let it flow out of you.’ He knelt beside her on the bed, watching her intently as she thrashed helplessly against the coverlet, riding the ecstasy as it gripped and shook her. Gradually, the waves subsided, leaving her limbs like water, a dull throb overtaking her entire pelvis.
Feeling temporarily sated she looked at him and blinked a couple of times, her eyelashes catching against the silken veil of her hair which, having broken free of its elaborate design, now lay draped partially across her face.
‘I think you needed that.’ He smiled and traced a lazy finger across the tops of her thighs, immediately she felt a slight quiver deep inside.
With great delicacy he parted her labia and stroked the pulsating bud of her clitoris, leaning across her to examine the effect of his caress. He looked up at her face, noting with satisfaction the haze of renewed desire in her heavy lidded eyes.
‘I want you to tell me what you feel, what you like and what you don’t like.’ He circled the outer edge of her moist vagina with his thumb. ‘Do you like it when I do that?’
She nodded weakly, unable to do more.
He rubbed the flat palm of his hand over her sex. ‘Does that feel good?’
Again she moaned quietly in response. A finger entered her, then another and another until she was full of him, at each juncture she testified to her appreciation by moving her head slightly or simply murmuring a single word. ‘Yes.’
She could do no more than lie back and accept his caresses. Being bound hand and foot she had no option but to let him make all the moves. With a surge of renewed desire she ground herself against his hands, her buttocks writhing against the rich red coverlet.
He removed his fingers and held them to her lips. Just for a moment she felt reviled, then remembering Darius’s apparent enjoyment of his own juices Hillary sucked each one, becoming greedier and greedier as she went on. Darius smiled, pleased at her response and rewarded her by thrusting his turgid, latex-covered cock dee
p inside her.
Oh, the bliss she experienced now the moment had finally come! ‘Yes! Darius, yes!’
There was enough slack in the cords for him to kneel between her legs and raise her bottom on to his thighs. She felt the increased depth of his penetration, mumbling incoherently as he touched the magic place within her, driving her harder and harder towards another climax.
With his hands he again gripped her buttocks, his mounting passion making each caress a little less refined until she felt totally impaled upon him. Still the dual probing was exquisite agony and she felt herself come yet again with renewed vigour.
His self-control was phenomenal. Again and again he thrust inside her, moving around to penetrate her from different angles, varying the pleasure in as many ways as possible. She thought he was surely the perfect man. Then she remembered Ilona and Torran, allowing their images to drift across her closed eyelids like unwelcome black clouds.
Some time later, after Darius had eventually permitted himself to climax, he untied the cords that bound her, allowing her to use her hands to discover the whole of his body. They lay almost content. Darius was on his back, his hands clasped behind his head with an air of satisfaction, Hillary was stretched out on her side next to him. Despite her temporary satisfaction she found she was unable to keep from touching him, her hands delicately smoothing and stroking each portion of his body. She plucked up the courage to ask him one of the myriad questions that had been plaguing her for the past eighteen hours or so. ‘Darius, what is Ilona to you exactly?’
He looked at her askance. ‘I’m not sure I follow you?’
‘Yes, you do.’ She gazed at him intently, watching his expression to see how much her question bothered him. ‘Is she your mistress?’
He was silent for a moment, obviously considering his reply carefully. ‘She was my father’s mistress, not mine.’
‘I know that.’ Hillary started to wish she hadn’t begun this line of questioning but still she pressed him. ‘But some people think you took over when your father died.’
Darius sat bolt upright, dislodging her hands. ‘I took over the estate,’ he began cautiously. ‘And, yes, I’ll admit I have fucked her from time to time. She’s a vibrant woman, with powerful needs,’ he added almost defiantly.
Hillary was thoughtful for a moment, this was obviously a subject that could easily disturb his usual cool, calm exterior.
He gave her a sideways glance. ‘There’s more you want to ask me, isn’t there?’
She was relieved to hear his tone. It was no longer angry or defensive, merely resigned. ‘I suppose so.’ She put her arms around his waist and nestled her head against his chest. ‘I’m not bothered, Darius, really,’ she lied.
‘Is that the truth?’ He raised her chin so that she was staring deep into his eyes.
Unable to trust herself to speak, Hillary nodded in what she hoped was a convincing manner. Then after a while she murmured softly, ‘What’s past is past.’
Darius opened his mouth, obviously intending to say something else, then shut it again and kissed her instead, this time with more tenderness than before. Gently, he caressed her breasts, pushing her onto her back before entering her for a second time. Her response to him was instantaneous. She felt the fire rapidly building within her again and thrust her pelvis up to meet his.
Raising himself to his knees, Darius pulled her upwards and towards him so that eventually they were seated face to face, his cock buried deep within her. Slowly they rocked together, enjoying the slow, rhythmic dance towards orgasm. Hillary pressed her breasts against his chest, wishing that she could enter his body. It was all so one-sided, she thought absently, clasping his buttocks in her hands in the same way he now clasped hers.
Through a chink in the thick drapes she could see that dawn had broken, the sun already making its presence felt by casting a thin gold thread across the thickly carpeted floor and warming their gently perspiring bodies. She realised she hadn’t been able to tell when Darius came, his face had been turned away from hers and he had uttered no sound, nor increased the urgency of his thrusts. Still he withdrew and handed her a couple of soft white tissues from a box next to the bed.
‘I’m just going to use the bathroom.’
Hillary watched him climb down from the bed and walk through the thin gold line of sunlight. As he approached a closed door that Hillary hadn’t noticed before he glanced back at her over his shoulder.
‘I want you to stay here with me, Hillary. Think about it and give me your answer when I return.’
She was stunned. Although they’d had a good time in bed, she hadn’t expected any declarations of commitment, especially not from Darius of all people.
When he re-entered the bedroom ten minutes later, fresh and slickly wet from the shower, she was still in a state of shock. Ignoring her silence and the questioning look in her eyes, he began to wander around the room, collecting their discarded clothing and dumping it in a pile on a chair, opening cupboards and drawers, removing clean items of apparel, obviously intending to dress for work.
He glanced at her and smiled. ‘It’s okay, I was only joking about giving me the answer now. You stay here and get some sleep, I’ll be back in a few hours and we’ll talk then.’ He pulled on a pair of thick green cords and a moss-coloured flannel shirt.
‘What about Alicia and the others? They might start to worry about me.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘No one will be awake yet. It’s too early. I’ll ask Fearn to give your sister a note.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ With a small sigh of languor, she lay back against the pillows, content at long last. All of a sudden she felt very drowsy.
Darius crossed the room and kissed her on the cheek, running his hand lightly across her breasts and stomach as he did so. Despite her sleepiness she stirred under his touch. He cupped her pubis. ‘I’ll deal with you later.’ His tone was low and full of promise.
After Darius had gone Hillary fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake for several hours. As soon as she came to she remembered where she was and, with a quiver of uncertainty and excitement, she padded across the bedroom to open the curtains. There was a robe on a nearby chair which she pulled around herself before returning to the window to survey the scene. With a start of surprise she noticed Darius standing in the garden below. Thinking she must have slept for longer than she thought, she watched as Ilona approached him.
They stood talking intently for several minutes; occasionally one or the other would nod their head in agreement. Presently Darius leaned forwards, kissed Ilona on the cheek and strode off down the path. She watched as Ilona stared after him for a moment or two, then turned and presumably came back inside the house. A few minutes later there was a knock at the bedroom door.
‘It is only I, Ilona.’
Hillary was about to call out to her to enter when the door opened anyway. The older woman’s face bore a smile that Hillary had come to recognise as completely false.
‘Darius asked me to check that you were all right. Is there anything I can get you?’
Hillary shook her head. ‘I’m absolutely fine.’ Then, as an act of pure devilment, she added, ‘In fact I feel absolutely wonderful.’ She stretched luxuriously and smiled at Ilona with a none too small flicker of triumph.
Unconvincingly, Ilona pretended not to notice. ‘Has he asked you to stay?’
Her pointed question took Hillary completely by surprise. ‘Well, yes. Yes he has, as a matter of fact.’
The older woman sniffed. ‘I suppose you’re going to accept. You’re the type.’
Feeling affronted, Hillary responded with a careless toss of her head. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’
‘Liar!’ Ilona’s tone was suddenly venomous and her dark eyes glittered dangerously as she leaned forwards and whispered harshly, her blood-red lips just a fraction from Hillary’s face, ‘You wanted him the moment you set eyes on him. Don’t deny it, I can see all the signs. I used to feel exactly the same a
s you once upon a time.’
Now they were getting down to basics, Hillary thought. Aloud she said, ‘Darius told me you and he had slept together.’
‘Oh, we’ve done far more than that.’ Maddeningly, Ilona didn’t elaborate.
Deciding to ignore her remark, Hillary crossed the room to the bathroom. ‘I’m going to have a shower. Close the door on the way out, please.’
Once inside the safety of the bathroom she leaned against the door, locking it firmly to put even more distance between herself and the hateful Scotswoman. Her heart was thumping in her chest, although she wasn’t sure exactly why Ilona had angered her so much. Perhaps it was simply her assumption about Hillary’s weakness where Darius was concerned? With a sinking feeling, she acknowledged to herself that there was a lot more to her feelings of disquiet than simple rivalry, something about the whole situation just didn’t feel right.
Without knowing why, Hillary felt the answer to her question lay outside the bedroom door. Quickly she showered and, still clad only in the bathrobe, she unlocked the bathroom door and tentatively began to explore Darius’s suite of rooms. From what she had been able to ascertain the night before, his suite comprised four or five rooms including the bedroom and bathroom. Her route took her through a couple of almost empty rooms and then she found herself in the sitting room where Darius had pinned her against the wall.
With a shiver of recollection Hillary put her fingers to her lips, remembering how bruised and swollen they had felt at the time. She looked around, glancing at herself momentarily in the large ornate mirror. That was strange, she thought absently. As far as she could tell, each of the rooms contained an identical mirror, even in the guest quarters.
Suddenly a thought struck her – the mirror downstairs had been a two-way mirror. Darius and his friends had used it to spy on her photographic session the night before. The cold chill of realisation swept over her – perhaps all the mirrors were exactly the same in every respect?
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea Page 24
