Darkest Desire

by Darkest Desire(Lit)

  Morgan’s cheek was against the carpet. It should have smelt old and moldy, but instead she caught the scent of the forest, the aroma of damp leaves and the sound of the breeze in her ears. And somewhere in the peripheral senses, she heard the clash of stag antlers, the snuffle of a boar and the howl of a lone wolf.

  Then the weight of Hunter came over her and she was hurled back into reality. He pinned her to the floor as though he expected her to struggle, his hands pushing up the fine wool of her dress to her waist, pulling off the panties and stockings underneath. Her shoes came off with her underwear, and then cool air washed over her skin.

  Morgan didn’t struggle, didn’t even want to. Her control, her will was gone. All she wanted was to surrender to this man and let the tide of passion take her where it wished. She lay half dazed, crushed beneath him, feeling nothing but his heat and weight against her, the hardness of the linoleum-covered floor beneath her.

  He grunted with satisfaction as he spread her legs apart, his hands moving over her skin and between her thighs. She moaned as his fingers parted the tangle of her pubic hair, stroking abruptly against her soft flesh until she felt a scalding rush of heat well up in her lower body. His fingers teased her sensitive clit making her breath freeze in her throat. Then his deft touch moved to her vulva and the well of moisture that had been building in her body was released with a sudden rush, flooding her body with liquid arousal.

  "Oh, God," she moaned as she felt the scalding liquid leak from her body, flooding Hunter’s fingers. She felt him dip inside her again and then his hand was gone for a second. She heard his murmur of delight.

  "You taste of woman," he said and Morgan realized he was licking her fluid from his fingers. She couldn’t see but the image of it sent a trembling tide of passion through her body, making her bones soften, her sinews lose their tension and her flesh feel as if it was melting away. "When I come inside you, I’ll let you taste us, mixed together," he whispered, his hard mouth close to her ear.

  Morgan shivered at his words. There was no doubt of his intention to have sex with her. None at all. An image of her lusty warrior ghost rippled through her mind. He would have sex like this, she thought. Rough. Untamed. Like a rutting animal. She shivered.

  She was wet enough to take Hunter now but he didn’t seem in any hurry. He gathered her long hair into his hard fist and pressed a wet kiss to the pale, bare nape of her neck. She cried out then and he laughed with satisfaction at her response.

  "Look in the glass," he said and Morgan lifted her upper body from the floor, turning her head to see herself reflected sharply in the glass divider between Hunter’s office and Suzie’s workspace.

  She was Morgan and someone else at the same time, a woman completely given over to her instincts, her desire. Black hair framed her oval face in untidy waves, her mouth was swollen from his kisses and her eyes were sleepily sensual. She could see their bodies twisted together, his hard limbs covering her softer curves. He pushed two fingers abruptly inside her and made her lift her head to watch her own reaction in the glass, mouth open, eyes closing in dazed desire until they were nothing more than a slit. The wide boat neck of her dress exposed generous amounts of creamy bosom. Hunter slipped a hand inside, reaching for the nipples of her breasts and finding them stiffly erect. He ran a warm palm over them, making them tighten into almost painful buds and then he pinched them roughly and again made her watch herself as she flinched.

  Wordless with desire, Morgan pushed her body back against his, needing to feel the pressure of him at the juncture of her thighs. He let her buttocks find the hard ridge of him expanding beneath the rough cord of his pants. The he released himself, pushing his cock between her legs, rubbing it roughly into her sensitive mounds, making her squirm with desire.

  "Open your legs wider," he commanded, and Morgan had no thought but to obey his words and the urges of her own body. She moved beneath him, spreading herself until her inner thighs ached. She felt his penis replace his fingers at the entrance to her body, pressing past the tight muscles he found there, ignoring her whimper, until he was lying poised at her threshold to her body.

  "You feel tight," he whispered smokily against her cheek.

  "I haven’t … not for a long time," she said, her voice trembling. "It’s OK." But she wasn’t sure if she was reassuring Hunter or herself.

  Withdrawing a fraction, he shoved his cock forward, his lips against her nape as she tensed and arched her neck in a gasp of discomfort. His thick length pressed full-length into her, stretching her sheath to its full extent so that she felt she must split under the pressure. He withdrew and plunged again, cleaving his way into her, forcing her unused muscles to accept him. He moved fast and hard, driving into her with his fullest extent every time until her body began to soften and accept him. His pounding rhythm echoed in her pulse, her blood thundered in her ears and she began to gasp in time with his thrusts. It was primeval, it was devastating, and she wanted more.

  "Hunter!"

  He seemed to understand without words, one hand dropping down to tease her softness where his body became one with hers. His fingers circled around her stretched opening again and again, then drifted up to her clit, touching, tempting, taunting. Morgan felt the pressure building inside her, release just outside her reach, taunting her, tantalizing her. She muttered words even she couldn’t understand but Hunter seemed to understand what she needed, focusing his attentions on her clit, moving on it and around it until she was thrusting her hips in abandon, searching for that elusive moment. And still the pressure built in them both until he was slamming into her in response, and she was gasping and then screaming, and then there was a moment of stillness and her body took flight as the pulsations gripped her. She rode the waves of her convulsions, dimly aware that Hunter was gripping her buttocks, thrusting ever more aggressively into her through her orgasm until he was unable to escape the tight grip of her climaxing muscles. He tensed for a long moment, and then his release roared through him and, shuddering, he spewed his ejaculate into the liquid depths of Morgan’s body.

  For endless moments, their joined bodies continued to rock with the force of their pleasure. Slowly, finally, they stilled. Supported on trembling muscles, Hunter let himself collapse onto Morgan, his face buried in her shoulder as he heaved air into his lungs.

  When their breathing had quieted, Hunter released himself from her body and pulled them both upright, swiveling their bodies until they were sitting in front of the glass. Quickly, he stripped off her dress and bra, and his clothes so that she felt his furred chest damp with sweat along her bare back, his thighs spread along side hers. Her hair hid the curve of her breasts but the nipples poked through the strands, glinting pinkly.

  She looked like herself and not like herself, as though she’d been stripped to her core. The business clothes, the neatly-pinned hair, the prissiness and protocol banished. She was just a woman.

  Morgan twisted her head to peer up at him cautiously. He looked down at her enigmatically, saying nothing but his hands pulled her legs apart until Morgan could see her body in the reflective glass open to Hunter’s gaze. Blushing, she tried to close her legs but he wasn’t having it, forcing her legs to part further and then lifting her knees until her intimate flesh was fully exposed. She moaned and tried to look away.

  "Morgan, I want you to look at yourself." His deep baritone voice was firm in her ear.

  "No." She twisted against him but he held firm. "I feel so exposed," she whispered. "Stripped bare."

  "Don’t be afraid," he murmured. "You’re beautiful, Morgan. Look at yourself. See how you respond to me." Hunter’s hands moved beneath her thighs to her vulva, his fingers plucking tenderly at her moistness. The pulse began again between her legs and she moaned closing her eyes.

  "I’m depraved!"

  "You’re not. You’re just a woman uncovering her sensual side. Open your eyes."

  She did as he asked, whimpering as he pushed two fingers into her wet opening, prob
ing her. His fingers emerged wet with the juices of their pleasure, and he brought them up to her mouth, running them around her lips.

  "Open," he whispered and with volition her lips parted and he touched his fingers to her mouth letting her taste the dark essence of their orgasm. She twirled her tongue around his fingers, capturing the tantalizing drops, then taking his fingers inside her mouth, sucking them deeply in a parody of penetration.

  In the mirror, she forgot herself, forgot her inhibitions, her attention focused on her lover. She watched his eyes deepen from light amber to burning gold, witnessed the blood rise, dark and red along his cheekbones, the breath coming in gasps between his lips. She stroked her hands up the hairy, muscular thighs that lay alongside her smooth ones and against her back, she felt his male sex rise again, prodding demanding and hot against her back.

  Instinctively Morgan reached back, taking his cock in her hands, stroking along its increasing length, circling its expanding thickness. She cupped the weight of his testicles in her palms, juggling them, stroking them, making him moan. And then she turned to face him, her hands returning to his penis, firmer now, less experimental as she grew in confidence, understanding through touch what moves made him grit his teeth and which caresses drove him right to the edge. She held him firmly close to his body, her other hand moving, squeezing along his length, then pumping powerfully until he was crying for her to stop the torment.

  But she didn’t. She continued her motions, faster and faster until he was poised on the knife-edge. Then, at the final moment, she rose up, held herself poised above him for a brief second before sinking down to impale herself on the stiff cock beneath her. No gentle taking this, but a frenzied coupling as she lifted then sank down in a powerful rhythm as her body gripped and released him. She heard her own panting breath as if from afar, felt his mouth open on her shoulder in an agony of anticipation, and then her body was tightening around him, muscles clenching in ecstasy forcing him to join her on her tumultuous ride of passion.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Morgan arched her back and rolled her head wearily in large circles. The letters on her laptop screen were a blur and the day had barely begun. She had come into the office early in an attempt to get a head start. There were less than six weeks to the opening. Six weeks into which she would have to pack about four months work if the exhibition was to be the success she desperately hoped it would be. Once it had opened without any dramas she would be able to relax again, and maybe get a full night’s sleep.

  Sleep. Just the thought of it made her salivate. Until she had begun this project, she had had no idea of how essential sleep was to sanity, and how sleep-deprivation could affect the rational thinking of even the most sentient being. Most nights she managed little more than five hours, and even those were disturbed with dreams.

  Sometimes the ghostly horned god appeared and the dreams were inevitably erotic, laced with excitement and fear. At other times, she saw nothing but just felt as though she were standing on the edge of an abyss, about to plunge off into space of her own volition. And then there was Hunter.

  Hunter. Sometimes he was kissing her, at other times just smiling his sweet smile or holding her hand. Then he would turn cold and angry. He would turn and walk away while she called to him, disappearing into the mists where she couldn’t find him.

  She hadn’t seen him or heard from him for two days since that night, when the overwhelming carnality he’d inspired in her had sent her running from his arms.

  "For God’s sake, Morgan, what were you thinking?" Gus’s furious voice shattered Morgan’s reverie. She turned, startled, to see him standing at the door to her office. Someone had evidently given the game away about her absence from the meeting with Hunter. She wondered if it was Hunter himself who had complained.

  Gus obviously didn’t expect an answer to his rhetorical question and Morgan didn’t give him one. As far as he was concerned, there was no rational answer, thought Morgan as she watched him impassively. She felt like a five-year-old being blasted by the principal for playing hooky in the lunch break. And she probably deserved it.

  "What the hell kind of message do you think you were sending to Riley? To send your assistant--a girl with less sense that God gave a sparrow--to take a critical meeting because you were too busy…! Well, all I can say is I’m very disappointed in you. It was the height of rudeness."

  "Did he call you?"

  "No, of course not. He hasn’t said anything. He’s far too courteous, which is more than I can say for you!"

  "Is that everything?" Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she had been hauled across the coals for a lack of professionalism. She just wanted him to get it out of his system and leave so that she could lick her wounds in private.

  ‘No it is not! I’ve been at great pains to stress to you the importance of making Riley feel like he is the most important person in the world. Negotiations are still ongoing with his lawyers regarding a long-term home for the torque. Other institutions have also expressed their interest, and I want nothing, I repeat nothing, to jeopardize the claims of the museum. Do I make myself clear?"

  Morgan nodded. "I apologize, Gus. I was out of line. There were some things I’d been neglecting that I needed to take care of and I felt it would be a good experience for Andrea to handle the meeting. Marshall was there too, of course."

  "I know Marshall was there. Our curator was the one who enlightened me about the situation. He’s no happier about it than I am."

  Morgan hung her head. "It seemed like the sensible thing to do. Andrea has been keen to take on more responsibility, and I was up to my ears…."

  "Look, Morgan, I don’t deny that you’ve been working hard on the exhibition, but you look exhausted. I hate to say it, but perhaps the pressure is affecting your judgment. If you’re finding it all too much, perhaps we need to look at alternative options. It’s no reflection on you."

  Morgan averted her face to hide the red tide of anger that rose to her cheeks at his words. "Gus, I’m coping fine. It was just a misjudgment on my part. I’ll sort it out with Mr. Riley, Gus. I’ll apologize and make sure there are no negative repercussions."

  "Do it." His tone made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate any further undermining of his authority. "Another instance like this, Morgan, and I shall have no alternative but to put you on an official warning.

  "It would be a great shame if that was to happen, Morgan. You have a lot to offer this museum but I cannot have you simply countermanding my instructions because you think you know better."

  "I know, Gus." She sighed and met his eyes.

  Gus tightened his lips and pulled at his goatee. "Just do your job, and keep me in touch. I want to know everything that happens. Every communication between you and Riley I want to know about. Is that clear?"

  "Crystal." Morgan nodded, thanking her lucky stars his rule wasn’t retrospective.

  When Gus turned on heel and stalked back to his own office, Morgan almost ran to the bathroom where she covered her face with her hands. She glanced in the mirror and saw a woman whose eyes grew daily more shadowed and whose cheekbones were prominent in her once softly rounded face. She’d barely eaten in two days, had no appetite for anything except the sexual desires that taunted her since that night with Hunter Riley.

  He had pushed her to the edge during the night, denying her every attempt to draw back from him. After steaming up his office, they had taken a taxi to a small, impersonal hotel in the city, registering under Hunter’s name. In the lift up to the third floor they had averted their eyes from each other, each afraid to be the one to suggest pressing the emergency stop button and test out their fantasies about having sex in a confined space. They just about made it clothed into their room before falling into the huge bed, clutching each other.

  There, he whispered to her about all the things he would like to do to her, and then he did them, one by one, raising her from one peak to another with his mouth and hands, driving her on until he finally took
her, braced on his elbows over her, his face set in hard lines as he pushed further and further into her. Grinding himself into and against her, Hunter raised her up again and, when she was on the brink, he left her there while she begged for completion. But he refused to finish what he had started, holding her arms when she would have pulled him against her. When she had descended from the brink a little, he began the process all over again until she was panting, begging, cursing him.

  On the third time, Morgan tried to push him away as he began arousing her all over again, and this time he tied her hands over her head, looping his belt around the bedpost. She tried to kick him but he took her slim legs in his hands, lifting and parting them until they were draped over his shoulders, her core at his eye level. She flushed and moaned with embarrassment, her feet drumming ineffectually on his back as she twisted to avoid his all-seeing gaze.

  For long moments, he just looked at her, arousing her with his perusal, dissecting her most intimate parts with his eyes. By the time he put his mouth on her, Morgan felt about to explode, the touch of his tongue and lips all but driving her over the edge. When he knew she couldn’t hold off her orgasm any longer, he lowered her legs to circle his waist and penetrated her the way she wanted, his huge cock breaching her swollen entrance, this time driving into her twice, three times as she cried her release against his lips.

  Hunter stayed hard within her during her climax, not yet ready for his. When the tumultuous storm had passed, Morgan asked Hunter to release her hands but he refused, telling her he wasn’t done with her yet. He held her legs apart and began thrusting again but she was too dry and swollen, crying out as he drove into her. For a moment, his weight disappeared from the bed. She felt him dressing in the dark and thought her refusal had driven him away. She called out to him, promising not to deny him again, but he brushed a kiss on he forehead and told her he would be back.