Uncovering Lily

by Rene Webb

  Grabbing a towel from the rack, he quickly runs it over his body and then wraps it around his waist before turning back around to offer me his hand. As I place my hand in his and step over the threshold, I feel like I’m entering an entirely new world, one where I feel completely and utterly comfortable with this man. Against all rationality, I feel safe with him.

  Somewhere between my shampoo and the breathtaking orgasm, I came to the unconscious realization that I want to have sex with this man, that I want him to be my first. I know next to nothing about him, but for some insane reason, I trust he would never hurt me. With his strong, capable hands and warm wet mouth, not to mention his talented tongue, I have already experienced some of the pleasures he has to offer. Every cell in my body is humming—craving—for more.

  “Let’s warm you up.” The man takes another warmed towel in one hand and with the other, palms my ass and moves me closer to his body.

  I can feel a contented groan reverberate in his chest as he leans down to nuzzle my neck.

  No longer shy, I lean into his touch, letting my hands run down his sides to anchor my hold on his hips. The man drops the towel and, using his free hand, draws me in closer.

  “Sir,” I laugh, pushing against his chest and away from him as he intentionally runs his fingertips lightly along my side. Tickling me.

  “What?” He feigns seriousness as I squirm against him. I feel his cock thicken between us, and my own nervous excitement grows. I’m ready. Ready to give myself to this man.

  “Please,” I beg between breathless laughter.

  A loud knocking on the bedroom door breaks the playful spell. I jump at the sound, and my heart leaps into my throat, making it tight and constricted, reminding me once again where I am.

  The trapped feeling resurfaces, suffocating me.

  Enfolding me in his strong arms, the man holds me firmly against his solid chest. I breathe easier knowing that he doesn’t want to let me go either.

  The knocking persists and a muffled raised voice follows it.

  “Wait here.” I feel the man’s low growl against my cheek.

  Pulling away, he picks the large towel off the floor and wraps it tightly against my body, fending off the chill that’s set in. “Don’t move.”

  The man jerks the bathroom door open and closes it with a snap behind himself. I move closer and press my ear to it. Holding my breath, I listen as the bedroom door opens. A muffled masculine voice is speaking in broken English, and the man replies sharply in what I think is Mandarin. The inaudible conversation continues for another minute, and I jump when the bedroom door slams shut.

  A moment there is another loud crashing sound and I quickly back away from the door. Retreating to the corner and sitting on the closed toilet seat, arms crossed over my chest as I hold the towel more securely against my body, I barely breathe as I strain to hear any sound coming from the other room.

  The man begins speaking English, and I move cautiously back toward the door in the hopes that I might be able to make out some of the conversation. There are pauses when he speaks, but I hear no one answering him. He’s either talking to himself or on the phone.

  Slowly, I turn the doorknob and open the bathroom door a crack—just enough to peek out. From where I’m standing, the man’s lean back, rippled with muscles, is to me while he stands talking on the phone. I can’t help but appreciate the view of the low-slung towel around his waist highlighting his perfectly formed ass. His empty hand rests on his hip, elbow cocked, in a stance of confident power.

  He slams the receiver of the phone back down, and I quickly shut the door before he can turn around. There are several moments of silence before I hear his muffled footsteps approaching the bathroom. I resume my place on the toilet seat as if I’d never moved and wait for him to enter.

  I wonder which version of the man will be returning to me. The scowling angry one or the playful teasing man that I’ve grown attached to.

  Chapter Ten

  ~ Finn ~

  “You lied to me,” I growl, storming angrily into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

  “What?” Lily squeaks, jumping up from where she’s been sitting on the closed toilet seat and pressing herself tightly against the closest wall—seemingly attempting to escape my anger.

  I smack my palm against the wall near her head. “You lied to me.”

  “N-no.” She shakes her head. “I-I haven’t lied.”

  “We do not lie to each other,” I say, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to relax. I’m scaring her, something I swore to myself I’d never do. I have come so far in getting her to trust me. And now I can see her eyes are round with fear. Any progress I made in my seduction is quickly slipping away.

  “That milkshake tasted like shit. Why did you tell me you enjoyed it?” After taking a sip, I’d thrown the fucking thing against the wall in both frustration and anger at the situation Lily and I have found ourselves in. But if I’m honest, what had really irritated me was the fact that Lily had lied to me. I may have kept things from her, but I have never lied.

  “You were already pissed off,” she states, her voice quivering slightly on the verge of tears. Then my amazing princess takes a large sucking breath through her nose and continues with more confidence. “I didn’t think it was smart to make you any angrier.”

  “My anger has never been directed at you.”

  This is a fucked up situation. But Lily is in no way to blame. Others will be made to pay for what they’ve done; I can fucking guarantee that!

  “Now, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to tell me the truth.” I wait until she nods her head slightly in understanding. “Did you enjoy that milkshake?”

  She relaxes at my question, which was my intention all along.

  “I’m not sure what that drink was, but it wasn’t a milkshake.” Her voice is still soft, but she has a bit of her confidence back, which makes me smile.

  “It wasn’t like any milkshake I’ve ever had,” I agree. “It was fucking disgusting.”

  Someday soon I plan on taking Lily to get a real milkshake, thick with homemade ice cream and topped with whipped cream, from my favorite dinner—a tacky retro place near my Vermont cabin.

  Removing my hand from the wall, I place it lightly on her bare shoulder. She flinches. My blood rages with anger, both at myself and whoever brought her here. I don’t want her cowering at my touch like it’s burning her skin. I want her craving it; I want this woman begging me to touch her—to have all of her.

  “Where do you normally sleep?”

  The question surprises her. “What?”

  “Where do they keep you at night?”

  “On the floor in one of the closets, like the other maids.”

  Her admission has me balling my fists in anger, but this time I manage to outwardly control my emotions.

  Biting her lip, she holds my gaze. “Will you be honest with me?”

  “I said we’d be honest with one another, didn’t I?”

  This is why I’m so fucking angry. Our relationship may be starting out completely fucked up, but I still want us to be honest with one another. I don’t know Lily well enough to read all her non-verbal cues, except when her soaking wet cunt does the talking, and I need her to tell me how she really feels.

  “What did that man want who came to the door?”

  “He came to take you back and lock you in for the night,” I growl. “But I informed him that I wasn’t done with you yet and that you’d be staying here with me.” And for the foreseeable future.

  This is what had set off my anger, the horrible treatment of Lily. Beyond that of fucking kidnapping her—they’ve traumatized her. My princess.

  The quick call I made to my assistant, Trevor, angered me further. There is no new information as to how or why Lily is here. She has not been reported missing by either her parents or her university, both of which is troubling.

  Calming myself, I place my hands on the wall on either
side of her head, lean forward, and kiss her lightly, teasing, seducing her lips with my own. I’m triumphant. Soon Lily is placing her hands lightly on my waist and leaning into the kiss.

  “Now we can have our bath.” I reluctantly pull away and turn toward the large tub. Perfect for two.

  “But we just took a shower.”

  “You don’t take a bath without rinsing off first. Otherwise, you’re stewing in your own filth.”

  This statement gets me a small smile and snort of laughter.

  “You make an excellent point.” Her tone is somewhat mocking, and I relax knowing she’s comfortable enough with me to tease.

  “I know.”

  I turn the taps on full blast and the room quickly fills with the sound of rushing water and steam.

  Turning around, I return to Lily and, taking hold of her arm, gently tug her toward me. Although she doesn’t protest, she does attempt to shake off my hold. I let go, only so I can pull off the towel she’s wrapped in.

  “Hey.” Lily grabs at the towel as it falls to the ground. She then tries in vain to cover her gorgeous nakedness.

  “When was the last time you had a nice hot bath?” I ask, wrapping my arm round her waist and pulling her to me. She comes willingly, wrapping her arms around my waist.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “We’ll make sure this one is memorable,” I promise her, cupping the back of her head with my free hand and kissing her lightly, teasing her lips until she’s kissing me roughly in frustration, taking what she wants. Me.

  “Make sure the water’s not too hot,” I tell her, eventually pulling out of the kiss.

  I run my hand slowly down her back, taking in her unconscious shivers of pleasure. Reaching her firm buttock, I palm it—enjoying how perfectly it fits in my hand—before I push her gently toward the waiting tub, which I soon realize is a mistake.

  Watching Lily bend over, seeing her breasts dangling like perfectly ripened fruit and her bare inviting cunt, has me wanting to thrust balls deep into her while I squeeze her breasts and pluck her dark nipples.

  She splashes her hand in the water before looking over her shoulder at me—her wet hair hanging in thick graspable waves.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Get in.” I try not to growl as I throw off my own towel. I stalk toward her, and she scrambles into the water, ducking underneath with a small splash.

  I reach across the tub and turn off the taps, and then slowly lower myself into the blissfully hot water at the other end so Lily and I are facing each other. She quickly tucks her legs up against her chest as I settle in, my knees bent slightly as my feet rest on either side of her hips.

  Leaning my head back against the tub, I let my forearms rest on my knees—melting into the heat. For the first time since I left Boston two days ago, I allow myself to truly relax.

  Ever since I looked up to find Lily standing next to my chair and asking with tight, nervous politeness what I would like to drink, this insane trip Peter insisted I go on started making sense. He knew I’d recognize his cousin, knew I wouldn’t leave without her, that I’d ensure her safety, and he definitely knew he could count on my discretion. I’m sure my friend didn’t count on me taking full advantage of the situation though. It’s his own fucking fault for not coming out himself two weeks ago when we began planning the marathon of meetings for these past two days. He knew what, who, I’d find! I wonder how he discovered her location, and what stopped him from rescuing her himself.

  As the hot water begins to loosen my sore and tired muscles, a new plan begins to take shape. Peter will hate it, but I’ve never needed his fucking approval for anything! It’s all in the planning and execution.

  “Have you ever been in a hot tub while it snowed?” I ask, closing my eyes and imagining we’re a world away.

  “You mean outside?”

  “Of course.”

  “No.” She scoffs incredulously. “That sounds crazy.”

  “There’s nothing like it,” I tell her, opening my eyes to see she’s let herself relax. “Breathing in the cold air while you’re surrounded by warmth.”

  “If you say so,” she says in a disbelieving tone.

  “Every Christmas my parents would rent the same cabin in Vermont for a month,” I tell her. “And I would run through the freezing snow on the deck and jump into the hot tub.”

  “You did this for fun?” she asks with a small smile, stretching out her legs and fully relaxing.

  “Yes,” I tell her. Someday I will take her to the cabin in Vermont, which I now own. I know Lily would love the quaint shops in the small town of Pinetree, and the peacefulness of the woods the cabin is nestled in. It is close enough to the ski resort, but far enough away to be completely private—the perfect getaway.

  “My family has a place in Colorado,” Lily says softly, telling me something I already know. The house is a large A-frame, with a side of glass looking out onto the local ski-slopes.

  It’s an impressive house, I had attended several parties there thrown by her father’s company over the years, but nothing like my snug little cabin nestled in the woods.

  “Really?” I ask, feigning ignorance. I reach down into the water and wrap my fingers firmly around one of her ankles. Ignoring her pull against my hold, I ask, “You ski?”

  “What are you doing?”

  I pretend not to hear her question, instead lifting her leg up to have a better grip. I begin to gently massage her foot as I tell her, “I prefer snowboarding.”

  “Me too,” she agrees. I then watch her face as she attempts to suppress a moan of pleasure as I continue to knead the sole of her foot firmly.

  “Relax,” I softly command, running one hand up her leg to massage her calf.

  I watch as she struggles to follow my instructions. The pleasure I am giving her wins out, and her leg goes weightless in my hand. “Good girl.”

  Chapter Eleven

  ~ Lily ~

  I fight an internal battle as I struggle to suppress the moan caught in my throat. The man’s strong fingers are working the instep of my foot and sending a wave of pleasure and relaxation throughout my body, relieving tension I didn’t know I had. If I am not careful, under this man’s touch I will melt completely into the hot water.

  I do not want to succumb, but this man has a way of relaxing me—even if he scares and confuses the fuck out of me in the process. The biggest problem is that I cannot help but find the man attractive. With his perfect ass, defined jaw, and masculine eyebrows, which I have only just discovered can actually be sexy, I cannot help getting excited—aroused.

  “How’s that?” the man asks, letting go of my foot and reaching for the other. This time I do not fight him as he begins the same blissful treatment. Closing my eyes, I relax and let my body enjoy the pleasure he’s giving me. After the hell I have gone through these last few weeks, I deserve to steal as much enjoyment out of this man as possible.

  Not only is my body betraying me, but my mind is beginning to play tricks on me as well—liking, no loving, how this man listens to me as if he is truly interested in what I have to say, in my opinions and interests.

  How many dates have I been on where all the guy talks or cares about is himself? I can’t count the number of times I have heard how accomplished my date plans on being in ten years; world domination is a common theme. Or how amazing he is at anything I mention doing or enjoying. If I say I have skied a black diamond, then he has skied a triple. It is nothing like that with this man. Maybe it’s because he’s older, more mature and self-confident than the college-age guys I have been stuck dating these past few years. Whatever it may be, it is one of the most attractive things about this man.

  “It’s time for dessert,” he says, letting go of my foot.

  Opening my eyes, I see him grinning at me as he stands up in the tub, water sloshing down all around him. I cannot help but focus on the large muscular thighs in front of me and the hard thick cock jutting out toward me. For some insan
e reason, I have the urge—something I have never had before—to lean forward and taste him.

  “I’m going to eat your cunt, and you can have another orgasm,” he states confidently, and I shake my head as I look up to see his amused face staring down at me. He quirks his eyebrow, grins, and asks, “See something you like?”

  “No,” I sputter, bending my knees up against my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

  “Stop lying to me,” he growls, reaching down, grabbing my arms, and pulling me up to stand in front of him.

  “I’m not,” I say, lying to us both.

  Shivering suddenly, I am unsure if it is from the cold air or the thought of this man and his very erect cock.

  “Let me get you warmed up,” he says and steps out of the tub. After quickly wrapping a towel around his waist, he grabs another and wraps it tightly around my body before helping me out.

  “Thank you,” I say as he begins to rub his large hands along my arms and back. I find myself stepping toward him, into his chest, toward his warmth.

  The man’s palms find their way underneath my towel, and I cannot control the moan from slipping out as he firmly rubs the globes of my ass.

  “Spread your legs,” he commands, growling softly in my ear and nipping at it playfully.

  My body obeys without me know it.

  “How does this feel, Princess?” the man asks as he lets one of his hands dip between my legs and caresses the folds of my sex with surprising gentleness.

  Wrapping my arms around his waist and placing my head on his broad chest, feeling the warm dampness of his skin against my cheek, I let myself succumb to his ministrations.

  At some point during our bath, probably when he first began massaging my foot, I unconsciously decided to let myself enjoy whatever pleasure I could. The night will end all too soon, this man will leave, and I’ll be back to my nightmare existence. After everything that’s happened, I deserve to use this man to pretend my life hasn’t turned into a total nightmare.