Seduced

by Susan Arden

  She flashed them open as directed, licking her pillow-soft lips, and whispered into my soul, “Please, keep going.”

  Did she know how close I was to the edge? “I want your attention. Always. Or do you need a reminder?”

  “No.” She shook her head. In her eyes, I could see she was as undone as I was, and that made it all the more necessary to maintain control. I slid my hand down to her clit and pressed, swirling my thumb, coating my fingers with her wetness, stroking her until she bit her lip.

  Shit, I’d asked for her attention, but, right now, I was sure she’d notice how much I needed her. The desire to hide that part of me surged. I pressed my mouth to hers and slammed my hips faster, moving my cock deeper into her without stopping. She broke the kiss and screamed my name. God, the sound was an aphrodisiac, totally undoing to my control. I released, exploding within her, and pressing my mouth to her neck to muffle my desire to yell her name and…tell her—I was so fucked.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Filbert caught the front door and let Marie into the hall. I heard her voice downstairs and I smiled, decked out in yoga apparel. Had I been alone, I would have yelled out to her.

  “Would you care for me to do your hair?” Jeanette inquired, standing next to me with my robe draped over her arm.

  “I’ll do it,” I said, smiling and meeting her expectant stare. Another surprise from Graham. Jeanette arrived yesterday and was in training under Filbert. She was a new addition to the household staff. A maid, whose sole job was to deal with me. From bathing to dressing to I didn’t even know what the heck she did, but she hovered like a silent shadow, a ready smile on her crinkled and bespectacled face. She spoke in a soft British accent and matched Filbert perfectly.

  “Very well,” she answered. “I’ll go and see to the ironing, unless there’s something else you’d like me to do.”

  “Nope. That’ll be fine. Oh, is the black gown ready?”

  “It is. And you’ll look lovely. I’ll have everything set out for your approval this afternoon.”

  Oh God! Tonight loomed on the horizon, and I was getting closer to my first public appearance. With shaking fingers, I finished braiding my hair seated at the dressing table, and stopped to grab a watch. I opened the case, lifting the steel and 14k gold one Marie categorized for casual daytime. Impossible to think I had choices for a watch of all things. I rose, walked into the closet filled with an array of colors and textures, and retrieved a shopping bag. Hard to believe I had more clothing than I’d ever know what to do with. Quite the selection, with lots more arriving each day. All I had to do was point and nod when it came to clothing and jewelry, mode of transportation, and which credit card to use.

  Graham took care of surrounding me in opulence. Whatever I wanted—or more likely, whatever Marie thought was required—arrived, was put away, and was maintained by Jeanette from now on. I supposed the slew of shopping bags piled in the closet had caught his attention. Mess wasn’t something he tolerated. Lucky for him, he didn’t have access to my mind and the nonsense stowed away.

  But hiring Jeanette wasn’t all he did—he had lavished me in luxury over the last week. A room was being renovated on the third floor for yoga and a small office for me. He promised to take me car shopping this weekend on the threat that if I didn’t accompany him, he’d order whatever he wanted. And then there was the money he’d deposited into my checking account. More than he’d agreed. I could buy a small island and still have plenty left over.

  Yet what he offered me in small doses each afternoon was what I craved most. His attention. I wanted more. His time was spent, elusive…always the thing just beyond reach that drew me. I refused to think of the future that extended beyond each day, getting closer as well. Sometimes I had to dial down and simply focus on the solitary hour or the final minute I had with him before he slipped away.

  I walked by the bed with the rumpled, steel-colored sheets and sighed, recalling Graham last night. A hot shiver shot up my spine as I picked up my bag, and then I caught sight of myself in the bedroom mirror. I stopped and studied myself. I touched the mark on my neck. The person who stared back resembled me from a week ago, and didn’t.

  I was no longer wearing threadbare shorts and old hiking boots or flip-flops. I leveled my shoulders. What would Laura think?

  Me, here in this brownstone, dressed in Lululemon from top to bottom. Wearing La Perla lingerie, a Cartier watch on my wrist…the list of designer tags that went into pulling together this look was dizzying. I was brand new on the outside; but stripped down inside, I was hardly the same person either. I inhaled, vowing to call Laura. Or, if I found my courage, I might even webcam so we could talk instead of taking the easy way out and emailing her.

  I’d wimped out, uneasy she’d hear in my voice all the changes I sported and all the changes I felt. None she’d understand.

  Laura sent a list of studios she knew, and the list included the one I’d visited. Thank God, but it wasn’t a reprieve as she wanted to talk shop, expecting to hear more about the other studios I’d visited. That wasn’t a problem since this was my first week here, but if I didn’t get moving, she’d suspect something was up. I refused to be caught in one more white lie by saying I was doing a tour of studios if I wasn’t. Getting tripped up in a bigger lie, only to disappoint her further—that problem I’d already mastered, and the truth of what I lived was ready to blow. To say I had other fish to fry was putting it mildly.

  I’d already danced with disappoint and my sister over my trip to India earlier this summer, and right now—possibly tonight—there was the more than a real potential to do that dance again if I didn’t get my story together regarding Graham. My one saving grace would be to invest some time and energy into yoga. My connection to my sister.

  I met Marie in the living room just as she set her glass down on the cocktail table and I held out the bag to her. “I bought you something.”

  “You’re a wicked pistol,” she replied as she lifted the handles of the Lululemon bag I thrust at her.

  “Go on. We’re returning to my world. I found a yoga studio three blocks away. I owe my sister some information, and I promised to deliver a report. And besides, I need to de-stress before tonight.”

  “And I don’t suspect this is a DIY moment.” Marie removed the yoga pants from the bag and held them up before gifting me with her reaction. “You should invite Laura here. Then we can all go to a yoga class together…or at least you two could go.”

  “Bollocks! Why would I do that, love?” I innocently asked in a fake Brit accent.

  Hearing Marie’s dark laugh wasn’t as uplifting as Laura’s tinkling one, but slowly I was becoming habituated to her dry wit. Enough to lighten my mood, and I smiled.

  “I wouldn’t mind if you left me here with Filbert and Jeanette. I promise your closet would be in tip-top shape when you returned.”

  “Funny. And not happening. My sister’s eight months pregnant and not here. You, on the other hand, are. So change and let’s hit it.”

  After a night with Graham that had left me in a toe-curled state, I promised myself I wouldn’t succumb to a fit of jealousy without all the facts. I had to get my head together. Given I was a glorified concubine, if the man wanted to fuck every woman in his building, it shouldn’t matter to me. Big talk, since it did, and the thought of Graham with another woman sunk into the pit of my stomach like a brick.

  I had to get my act together and stay in the moment. It was one thing I had better control over since meeting Graham, yet today I couldn’t focus. What would I do when this was over? Crashing wasn’t in the cards, and maybe just maybe, if I came up with a plan, I could slow my descent into something manageable. The mat felt right for all the right reasons. If Graham wasn’t going to join me, then Marie would benefit.

  At the moment though, Marie whined, taking a step backward. “Please. My muscles are still shrieking from yesterday.”

  “Buck up.” Filbert’s voice boomed when he entered with his b
rows drawn tight. He stopped and stood on the edge of the Persian carpet where he folded his arms over his chest. “Stop whining. You need to exercise and improve your diet.”

  “That’s total pants!” Marie ranted.

  “Pants? What does that mean?” I asked, not sure I’d heard her correctly.

  “Crap. Total crap!” She stomped her foot and covered her face with the yoga pants. “Fine. I hate when you two gang up on me.”

  He snorted and winked at me. “Job well done, Miss Hillwood.”

  “Highest high five, Filbert.” I admired his little happy skip as he passed, we pivoted and slapped palms.

  * * *

  During our second yoga session, Marie spent a heck of long time in child’s pose, and her Shavasana began during the middle of class. She softly snored minutes after closing her eyes, so I moved my mat across the room toward the door and lifted into crane. A scent from the doorway broke my concentration. No matter how hard I tried to empty my thoughts, Graham filled every nook and cranny. Coming out of the pose, I opened my eyes, slanting a glance toward the entryway and caught sight of him leaning up against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest while watching me.

  Our eyes locked and I registered his animal magnetism in the way my skin tightened and my nipples peaked into erect points. I lifted my fingers poised on the top of the mat and brushed back my hair. I was dumbstruck by the power he wielded over me and how he straightened and surveyed the class, a muscle twitching along his jaw. Only one thing produced that intimidating look, and it was when he was forced to wait. Patiently. The realization had my chest squeezing.

  He crooked a finger at me, and a smile spread across my face. My heartbeat hiked as I glanced over to Marie, who hadn’t moved from her relaxed corpse pose. It felt like I’d been injected with a shot of adrenaline. I rose and silently padded across the floor, between the students relaxed in repose in the dimly lit room.

  When I reached the doorway, Graham pulled me to him. “I want you. Get your things. I have a car downstairs.”

  “How did you find me?” I stared up at him, already feeling myself melting.

  “You have to ask,” he said, skimming his jaw over my cheek so he could whisper into my ear. “I’m going to fuck you as we take a drive around the city.”

  “I have a better idea. Over there. Not far.”

  “I just received confirmation that you're officially good to go on birth control from the doctor.” He whispered against my ear as his fingers caressed my wrist. “Baby, it’s time for skin on skin…all the way. Now.”

  “Follow me, baby,” I said against his full, tempting mouth that had me clenching and struggling to maintain my cool. Not throw my arms around him. The news—yeah, great. Graham finding me—wanting me right this second—PRICELESS!

  He walked behind me down the hall to a private bathroom. We entered without touching, but before I locked the door, he took hold of me, yanking down my pants while I fumbled with the doorknob. Graham pushed me against the door, rubbing his warm hands over my breasts, and stared down at me. “I watched you lift up into that pose. It was as if you were weightless.”

  God, that’s how he made me feel being this close. “Bet I’m not.” I didn’t know what to say. Being inside this small room with this incredible smelling man, his hardness pinning me, it wasn’t business as usual. Not in my world. The feel of his breath, hot and way too intimate, captivated me. I opened my mouth, flicking my tongue across my lips, and Graham’s focus fell to my mouth.

  “Turn around,” he growled low, his voice tight.

  “What are you going to do?” I whispered.

  Graham leaned over me, his hands running down to my hips as he scraped his chin over my neck. “Here to give you what you need. Hands on the counter. Do it, Eliza.” I heard his zipper, then he squeezed my ass, lifting and separating my cheeks. I met his eyes in the mirror, just as intense as before. A slap on my backside would ring out loudly in the hall. He lifted his brow as though he’d climbed into my head and liked the unspoken idea. “Eliza. That’s ten.”

  Holy hell. Ten smacks was on our midnight menu. Quickly, I planted my palms on the vanity and he pressed his cock between my legs, sliding against me. No condom was necessary anymore, since I’d opted for an IUD while at the doctor’s. I’d been given a copy of Graham’s negative test results. I’d known for days, but we hadn’t discussed the visit.

  “I guess this is our celebration.” I stared at him, his broad shoulders simply clothed in one of his tailored shirts. Cuffs rolled up, his strong fingers curled over my hips, as he positioned his crown at my opening. Poised and ready, and my legs trembled from anticipation.

  “To be sure,” he said, penetrating me from behind, sinking into me deeply. His groan filled me as full as his cock, and our gazes reconnected in the mirror; both of us looking thunderstruck. “Hold onto the sink. Tight.” He groaned again, the corded muscles in his neck contracted.

  He lifted my hips, separating my legs, and the change in position allowed him better access. Deeper with the next pump, he impaled me with hard thrusts, each one a command to let him inside. Physically and emotionally. His body delivered, reaching into me, stroking and soothing with each beat.

  I watched him in the mirror, holding on to me, fucking me, sucking and biting a trail down my neck, and for a few seconds he let down his impermeable wall, vulnerable in the way he kissed my skin, groaning my name.

  “Please,” I moaned, wanting to get close to him. So impossibly close.

  “Eliza, you drive me crazy,” he breathed out heavily, pressing up against me, burying his face against my neck, and holding onto my braid, pulling my hair in rhythm with each power-thrust.

  I tilted my hips upward, my heartbeat clattering and my breathing heavy. “More, please.”

  Someone rattled the door at that moment, and my eyes flashed to the handle then shifted up to the mirror and fused with his. Holding my gaze, he hurled himself into me, grinding his cock farther as he bit my shoulder until I thought I’d cry out. Give away what we were doing.

  “Oh…” I softly moaned as the heat of my climax surrounded me, and Graham slammed again and again inside me. My cries were muffled against my sealed lips. The harder I tried to staunch the flow of words, the more I needed him. I wanted to tell Graham how this felt—what each of his thrusts did to me. He pumped his cock faster, the points of his finger digging deeper into my flesh, and then his warm release was slick inside me.

  “Baby, I had to feel you.” He wrapped his arms around me, bending flush to my body, his arms pulling me against him. “What are you doing to me?”

  “The same thing you’re doing to me,” I replied.

  Our eyes met in the mirror over the sink. Our faces were sweaty and glowing in freshly fucked color. He lowered his head and kissed my shoulder, trailed his mouth up to my earlobe, bit down, then soothed the spot with his lips. I reached up, encircling his neck with my arms. A mixture of intense longing and intense frustration suffused my chest, making it difficult to inhale without a pang.

  “I better be going,” he murmured, tucking in his shirt, and zipping up his pants. I watched him wash his hands, rake his fingers through his hair, and face me. “I can’t wait to see you later.” He tipped my chin and planted a kiss on my lips before slipping outside.

  “Back at ya,” I replied.

  He laughed as he said, “Namaste, little dove.”

  “Namaste,” I returned, placing my hands in prayer position and bowing slightly.

  Shutting the door, I didn’t know how I’d leave the bathroom on my newly liquefied legs. I smoothed my hair and noticed chaotic strands sticking out from my braid. “It’s only hair,” I said to myself, deciding to re-braid my hair with my shaking fingers.

  I met Marie seated on a bench in the anteroom. She slowly pulled on her penny loafers. She’d changed back into what she’d been wearing this morning and glanced over at me. “Help.” She wobbled standing up. “I thought you said yoga was good for
a person. I feel like I’ve been in a car wreck.”

  “You’ll feel better sooner if you do more than nap,” I retorted, realizing I was happy to hear her biting comments as we exited the studio.

  “That’s the only part I’m proficient in,” she moaned, then leaned on the building. “Wait.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse.

  “You aren’t going to light up! Give me those!” My voice hiked as I reached for her pack. “The mat is supposed to be your patch.”

  “Calm down. See.” She crumbled them in her hand and lifted off the brick enclosure. She walked over to a trash can and tossed them inside. “I don’t want to be tempted.”

  “Good idea,” I murmured, slipping on my sunglasses. “Where to?”

  She threaded her fingers through her hair, her eyes glinting. “We’ve got a hair appointment for you.”

  “Oh gosh. I almost forgot about tonight.”

  “I’m too sore to gasp in shock. We’re returning to my world. Right?” She tapped her iPhone, clearly relishing the idea of being back in her realm.

  “Yep. Let’s depart for your world.” I’d been so enwrapped in avoiding thinking about tonight that I’d put aside my first big introduction into Graham’s upper class world. What the heck had I been thinking?

  “Ah. I so like being in charge,” Marie mused. “Let’s go. We also have dance lessons today.”

  “Dance lessons? Please say you’re referring to ballroom not tap.” That night on South Beach. Crap, Graham knew steps that spoke of practice. Years and we only had an hour at most to squeeze in a lesson.

  “Funny.” Marie cocked her head. “How’s your waltz? Samba? Do you tango?”

  “Mark a big ‘X’ next to each. Why? Do you?” My body shrank. Dancing equated to attention, and I’d already had a taste of how well Graham could draw a crowd on the dance floor.