Candlelight and Champagne

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Candlelight and Champagne Page 6

by Dee Stone


  Just as Markus began to cover me up with the sheet and comforter, I recovered enough use of my limbs to raise my arm to stop him.

  “Bella, I’ve got to cover you up. I don’t want to take advantage of you in this state.” His voice was gruff in his desire for me––strained with want. It gave me power. I was powerful in my drunkness. Yes, I made the word up.

  “But I want you to take advantage of me. I crave it.”

  He looked at me, his brows furrowed in his uncertainty. I reached up with one arm and took his large hand into mine, a finger running over his knuckles and the veins. For a man that supposedly sits at a desk, his hands are surprisingly rough.

  With all the strength I could muster, I pulled him down hard. The uncertainty that he once had changed swiftly to surprise as he fell on top of me, catching himself at the last moment before crushing me under his complete weight. I had already spread my legs to him, so when he fell, it was right where I wanted him––between my legs. Yeah, baby––got what I wanted.

  Lifting my upper body, my hands linked behind his head and pulled it down to mine for a hard, wet kiss. I was the aggressor now.

  My tongue thrust between his lips and battled with his until he was stroking against me gently. I could taste the bourbon in his mouth, as I was sure he could taste my fruity cocktails.

  Reaching out he fondled and massaged my full breasts. My nipples were standing at attention, waiting impatiently for their turn. Though, they didn’t have long to wait.

  With ease, his fingers plucked and twisted them, making me twist and turn. My lower area was a pressure cooker, just waiting to explode.

  No longer able to control myself, my hands began doing some exploring of their own. Well, well––looks like I found something large to play with. And play and fondle I did.

  My thumb stroked along the top of the crown, finding his slit dripping with precum. Mouth watering at the idea, I pushed him back until I was sitting atop of him. Sliding down until I was at eye level with his cock, my hand gripped the base, as my mouth engulfed the crown, tongue swirling all around, not knowing where to stop. Teasingly, I licked his slit, savoring the taste of his cum that had emerged.

  Markus’ hands gently fisted in my hair, and I could tell he was trying to gently encourage me onward. I had never deep throated before, and honestly, I didn’t know if I could––without choking.

  Taking him as deep as I could, Markus’ hands continued to hold the back of my head, not forcing, just guiding with both hands spanning my head to my cheeks. If I couldn’t do it, I knew he would immediately let go.

  Lifting a hand to his balls, I gently rolled them as my other hand held his dick. My tongue swirled around the head before taking more of his shaft as my head bobbed faster.

  “Enough.” His voice was harsh.

  As my head bobbed, my eyes traveled past the dick I was sucking on, past his luscious abs, all the way to his intense eyes.

  My lips curled into a sinful smile at the ends.

  Popping my mouth off, I gave his cockhead one more lick before licking my lips for one final taste of him.

  As Markus lightly ran his hands down my neck to my arms, and down my sides to settle on my hips, I laid down my hands, hungrily reaching for more cock. My virginity gone, I was now hooked.

  Eluding my grasping hands with an evil chuckle, Markus reached for me, grabbing my wrists in one large hand, easily shackling me.

  Stretching my arms above my head, his other hand had free roam, allowing him to fondle one breast, while his mouth fondled the other. Fitting as much of my breast in his mouth as he could, his tongue lashed and tickled my nipple.

  Now it was my turn to be tortured. My body moved this way and that, trying to relieve itself.

  Leaving my breast, his hand travelled down my ribs, past my stomach, to my clit. Markus played and rubbed my clit like a pro, until I was screaming and panting, begging for more.

  Drawing pity on me, he took his cock in hand, rubbing the head in my juices before waiting at my entrance.

  What the heck was he waiting for? I wiggled my hips at him, trying to ease the building pressure. Grabbing my hip, he held me still. Markus leaned down, giving me a sweet peck on the lips before crashing hungrily down to mine.

  After a quick wink, he thrust himself inside me––hard. Again and again. As he plundered my pussy, I could feel the pressure building inside of me with each stroke of his cock.

  When we finally found a rhythm together, my hips naturally figured out what to do. I watched in fascination as Markus’ hips curled in, then out, then in again. The way his dick disappeared inside of me–––the sight alone had me coming undone at the seams. My throat tightened, and only a strangled sob was heard as my orgasm wracked my body.

  As if on cue, he stiffened, his eyes closed, head thrown back, and I could feel him release his essence inside of me.

  Collapsing on top of me, he buried his face in the pillow. I turned my head to see his hand playing with my hair, unconsciously curling a thick strand around his fingers. To me, that was one of the sexiest things he could possibly do.

  Turning his head to look me in the eyes, Markus’ hand gently walked along my stomach. My stomach lurched with an emotion I couldn’t quite contemplate in response to the gentle caresses.

  “Grazi, bella mia,” he rumbled, his eyes remaining fixated on mine. I was so mesmerized I couldn’t look away.

  “For what?” I whispered.

  “Your first time––your virginity. I will treasure the memory always.” I blushed at what he was saying, turning away in embarrassment. Why would anyone treasure my virginity? I had wanted to get it over with for years. I was actually relieved.

  His hand continued their journey, tracing patterns on my bare hip as I sighed, placing my hand on his pecs. My hand slid down to his ridged abs, amazement painting my face. I can’t believe how hard and tight his muscles are at forty-five.

  “Do you work out a lot?” I asked, my hand still rubbing along his abs and muscles, which jumped at my light touch.

  “Every day,” he grunted, his hand stilling mine.

  “I don’t––I can’t stand it.”

  “Well, I know some horizontal exercises we can do everyday,” he said, his hand pressing into my ribs and the side of my breast. Markus leaned down to give me a light kiss, smoothing his lips over mine sweetly.

  When the kiss was over, I groaned and put an arm over my eyes. “Not the response I was looking for after a kiss,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me.

  I giggled and pointed at the sky, which was just a beginning to show signs of rose and grey through the darkness of the early morning sky. “I don’t do well on no sleep,” I replied.

  “Well lay down, bella––hide those gorgeous blue eyes from me for a while and sleep.” Markus said, laying his head on the pillow, closing his eyes and pretending loud, obnoxious snores.

  I giggled again at his silliness but laid my head next to his, mine facing him so I could watch him before I slept. Just as my eyes began to close there was loud banging on the front door. It sounded like someone was going to bust it in.

  Markus jumped up, running naked to the front door, a golf club he had picked up on the way in his hand. He looked behind him for a moment to see me wrapped in the top sheet from the bed, peering around the side of the door.

  Frowning, he shook his head at me, which I of course ignored. With a loud, put upon sigh, he turned his attention back toward the door being banged on. Flicking the locks, he threw the door open at the same time he raised the golf club to brain whoever was trying to get in. As soon as the door opened my father threw a punch at Markus, as if he knew he would be the one to open it. Reacting quickly, Marcus dodged the fist and threw one of his own, knocking my father off his feet.

  Seeing the scene play out before me, I screamed, running forward I forgot about the sheet and fell, crashing to the floor.

  Chapter Ten

  MARKUS

  A sudden gasp made
me turn quickly, forgetting about Paul. What I saw almost made me gasp––Grace was falling toward the ground, about to hit her face on the coffee table. I don’t think I have ever moved so quickly.

  My hands and arms went out as I fell forward, trying to catch her before she was killed. Now I know what the saying, ‘heart in my throat,’ means. Catching her head before it hit the corner of the table, Grace’s body fell on the hardwood floor with a jarring slam––but at least her head was safe.

  Paul tried to grab her out of my arms, but I fought him off.

  “Grace!” I screamed, terror in my voice. I heard a tremble, but could do nothing about it.

  A moan was my only answer as I cradled her head in my hands––waiting. Suddenly an arm moved, followed by another moan.

  Hearing another groan elsewhere in the room, I ignored it. Concentrating on Grace was my prime concern. I didn’t care about anyone else right now, especially her father.

  The bright color of a pillow caught my eye, and I reached out to grab it, gently placing it under her head.

  “Grace. Grace––talk to me.” I pushed the hair away from her face and inspected her pale color. Thankfully, there was no blood. That was good, right?

  Another moan––but this time her eyelids fluttered. “Come on, Grace.” I begged. “Open your eyes for me, bella.”

  Her eyelids moved again, though this time they opened for a moment before closing. That brief moment they had been open there seemed to be no recognition.

  How could she be hurt so badly, yet not hit her head?

  Grace’s head moved slowly from side to side for a moment before opening, her blue eyes holding recognition of Markus in them.

  She put a hand to her forehead, the space between her eyebrows wrinkling as if she were trying to remember something.

  “My father was here?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes darting around the room as if maybe it weren’t true.

  Hearing the deep groan of a male voice, I glanced in that direction. I almost sighed in relief when I saw Paul getting to his hands and knees, shaking his head.

  Grace turned her head, seeing the state her father was in, “Dad?”

  Helping her to her feet, she shook me off impatiently, as she took the few steps necessary, bending over to check on Paul. He placed a hand on her arm, as if he needed the help, and gave me a quick underhanded smirk. I knew I was in trouble then.

  “Grace, are you okay?” he asked, concern deep in his voice. Though the quick, smug glance he gave me while Grace was fussing over him didn’t go unnoticed. Big trouble.

  “Dad, what happened? Were you in a fight?” She stood, her hands on her hips and her brows furrowed.

  “I don’t know, princess––I think Markus attacked me.” He tried to sound confused, and from the look on Grace’s face, she was buying it. Turning toward me, she shot me a narrow-eyed glare.

  “But why would he attack you, Dad?” She was at least thinking rationally. I had no reason to attack him

  “What do you remember?” Paul asked.

  Her eyes rose to the ceiling and rested there as she thought. “Not much. I remember a knock on the door––and that’s it. Did I hit my head or something?”

  I nodded. “Or something. You fell and I held my hands out before you hit your head on the coffee table.” I jerked my chin in the direction of said object and her gaze followed my movement.

  “So––Dad, what are you doing here? How did you find us?” I let her continue with her questioning––she seemed to be going in the right direction.

  Giving them a moment together, I let them work it out. I wish I had known that idea was going to bite me in the ass.

  I knew the small fridge in the living area held water bottles, so I headed there instead of the kitchen. Grabbing three water bottles I made my way back to the large foyer in hopes that things were working out.

  When I entered, they were standing side-by-side, facing the direction I would come from. Grace was now dressed, bearing a betrayed look on her face, compared to Paul’s face full of satisfaction.

  I cursed myself for trusting Paul. I just didn’t understand what he suddenly had against me. I knew he didn’t want me dating his daughter, but she was an adult.

  I decided to tough it out and pretend I didn’t see anything wrong.

  “Paul, I’m glad to see you’re doing alright. It was a good idea trying to get to her, but I was closer,” I said with false joviality.

  “Markus,” he lowered his head so Grace couldn’t see the expression his face was now wearing, while making sure that I could. Shaking his head back and forth in false disappointment, he replied, “I’m so disappointed in you. Why couldn’t you wait to fuck my daughter until she was twenty-one? It’s only a couple months.”

  I jerked my head up at his words about Grace’s age, glancing at her, but quickly looking away again. I didn’t want to give him any advantage. I was hurt that she had lied to me. I know she wanted to get rid of her troublesome virginity, but I thought we had a connection––besides fucking. I guess I was wrong.

  “Well she was a good fuck,” I shrugged at that, trying to hurt her as badly as I felt. “At least you’re here now, and she doesn’t have to leave alone.”

  “How long are you planning on staying?” Paul was now jovial that he had gotten his way.

  “Not long––since I finished with the board yesterday. A few days probably; I need to finish dispersing my grandparent’s property.” I went to tuck my hands in my pockets, realizing I was still naked. How could I have been walking around this place and neither one of them bothered to tell me I didn’t have pants on?

  Grumbling to myself, I made my way back to the bedroom and slipped on the pants I had just been wearing hours ago. My––how time flies.

  As I walked back to the foyer Paul smirked at me again. “Finally realized you had no pants on, huh?”

  “Thanks for that, both of you.” I grumbled at them.

  Grace looked embarrassed, “I didn’t realize either, Markus. I guess I got used to you being naked already.” Her cheeks got redder at that admission with her father standing next to her. She had a determined look on her face as she asked, “Dad says you attacked him. Is that true?”

  My brain went blank for a moment at her question. How could she ask me that after the night we just had? She knew her father was an asshole. I had saved her life too, didn’t she realize that?

  “Grace,” I started, my brain scrambling, trying to think of something to say in my favor. “Don’t you remember? Paul burst into the room and struck at me first?” I said gently. He was still her father after all.

  She turned to her father, the question plainly written on her face. “Princess––”

  Grace made a cutting off motion with her hand, her expression changing to irritation. “No more princess.”

  “Gracie––don’t you remember? I came to see you, and Paul attacked me.” I rolled my eyes at his lies. He was truly going all out.

  “Why can’t I remember?” I could tell she was starting to get scared. I was as well. She hadn’t seemed to hit her head––I mean, I don’t think she hit her head.

  “Let’s get you to the hospital for a head scan. I’m sure we’ll get some answers once we are there. Let me get a shirt on.” I rushed into the bedroom and threw on a plain white t-shirt. “Come on, let’s go.” I grabbed her hand and sweeping with my other arm, I swept her into my arms. Paul followed behind us, blustering.

  The ride to the hospital was fast in my Jag, and I admit, I ran a couple red lights. I’ll pay the tickets if they had a camera. It would be worth it.

  When we got to the hospital I picked Grace up into my arms and went into the emergency department. There, we were met at the nurse’s station. “What’s your emergency?” The nurse asked, her stethoscope out, examining Grace.

  “She tripped and fell. As far as I know she didn’t hit her head, but she can’t remember what happened immediately before.”

  “How do you kn
ow she didn’t hit her head? she asked, giving me an inquiring look. Orderly!” she shouted.

  “She fell, and I put my hands out, catching her head in the palms of my hands.”

  “Was she unconscious at all?” The nurse spat the question out.

  “For a few minutes.” I was getting scared with this line of questions. What if she was seriously hurt?

  The orderly came in with a gurney, and I gently placed her on it. Craning my head, I watched as the gurney carried her out of sight.

  Chapter Eleven

  GRACE

  I rolled my eyes around in my head so much that I actually imagined my eyes rolling out of my head. Was this really necessary? One thing was certain, I was quite happy I had gotten dressed because this place was damn cold, and I felt so ridiculous lying on this gurney with my shoes on.

  Staring at my surroundings, the doors to the rooms passed quickly as we rushed by. Suddenly, the gurney hit a door before arriving at our destination––wherever that was.

  “Are you able to change?” A nurse asked, handing me a paper gown.

  I shrugged, and taking the gown, making my way into the bathroom to change. After taking my folded clothes and placing them on the dresser, the nurses had me lie on the bed before hooking me up to numerous contraptions.

  The door opened and a tall woman in a white coat entered. She hurried over to my bedside and checked the chart a nurse had handed her. Reading it, she leaned over me and began checking my head for bumps or bruises.

  Her long, delicate-feeling fingers skimmed over my exposed skin, but I could feel strength in them. She searched through my scalp, finding nothing. She checked my pupil reactions, tested my fingers and toes by jabbing a sharp object in them, and she checked the soles of my feet by running something along them. She sighed heavily, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her white coat and relaxed her shoulders. “Do you want the bad news or the good news first?”

 

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