by Unknown
Her body gave a great pang of longing, her heart brimming with hope. “I do too.” Her hands were on his chest, her body beginning to melt. The need was so strong, so reciprocal.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. He kissed her, his mouth hungry and demanding, grazing her lips with his. “I want you, Sonia,” he murmured. He kissed her face and her neck, his hands roving over her, clutching desperately at her body as if he’d never let her go.
She took a deep, trembling breath. Through his jeans, his cock was large and hard. The tension between them was unbearably high, so much need to give and to take.
She wanted to wrap herself around him and take him deep
inside.
He tore his mouth away from her neck. “Now,” he demanded. “I have to be inside you, right now.”
She heard him unzip his jeans. He pulled his cock free and ran his hand over the length of it as she watched, his free hand urgently plucking a condom from his pocket.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, and the emotional and physical need pumped right through her. After what he’d said, she needed him to fuse with her there, deep in her essential womanhood. She was racked with desire for that connection.
He moved his fist on his cock, his jaw tight with restraint. “Pull up your skirt,” he whispered. The look he gave her was dark with lust. “I want you right here, against the wall.”
Spellbound, she moved slowly, pulling up her skirt, her lips slightly parted in anticipation.
His hands smoothed over her hair and roved down into the niche of her waist, around her hips, to her bottom. He stripped her panties down her thighs. With one mighty arm, he grabbed and lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“I’m going to show you exactly how much I want you,” he said, the shaft of his erection hard against her sex.
She leaned her shoulders back against the wall and squirmed and whimpered, pushing against him. He pinned her body with his hands on her hips, lifting her onto his cock. He eased inside her, her hips angled to take him in, her flesh melting onto the hard shaft.
“You’re so hot,” he uttered, and eased deeper, her body anchored on his cock.
He was so deep inside her, she was thoroughly possessed. She hummed her pleasure aloud, her head falling back against the wall.
He arched against her, kissing her face, his hands on her buttocks holding her locked into place.
“I want you so much.” He thrust deep and hard.
She moaned, her entire core on fire with sensation, her sex pounding its response.
He thrust again, harder, deeper, his cock huge and demanding.
“Do you know now? Do you know how much? Can you feel it?”
“Yes,” she managed, her head rolling, her sex clutching at him, over and over. “Yes, Oliver.”
“I don’t want to be with anyone else, only you,” he said through gritted teeth as he thrust again, “and I want to make love to you all the time, so you better be ready for more of this.”
Her body was shuddering on the brink of orgasm, her strength and self-control submerged into his will, his words sending her closer to the dizzy edge. “Oliver,” she murmured, “I’m coming.”
He reacted. He rammed her up against the wall, thrusting faster, his cock fit to burst. She latched her legs around his hips and he rode her hard. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her hair tumbling down. Her sex was awash, her thighs wet, her core in spasm.
When Oliver came, his cock churning up inside her sensitive flesh, she all but passed out, her body adrift in tidal waves of intense pleasure.
***
She peered at herself in the bathroom mirror. It seemed far too early in the morning to be up, after everything that had happened, but she wanted to phone Alison at her office and explain everything herself. The British Consulate rep had promised her he would contact the office on her behalf, but she felt she owed Alison a call.
What would she say? Hey, I did have a wild weekend. And oh, by the way, our boss is part of an international crime syndicate and I have just helped to bring him down.
She stared at her reflection. “Who’d have thought it?” she murmured to herself, trying to put some order into her hair with her fingers.
“Sonia, you might want to see this,” Oliver called from the bed, where she’d had immense difficulty extracting herself from his arms.
She wandered back to find him propped up against the pillows, the sheet strewn lazily across his hips. He looked both languorous and dangerous, like a lion about to stretch and pounce. He gestured at the TV with the remote.
“Breaking news.”
She saw that he’d found the BBC world service news. Her jaw dropped. There on the screen behind the newscasters head was Tarquin’s publicity photo. She was so shocked, she could hardly take in what the newscaster was saying.
“A large quantity of automatic weapons has been seized at an abandoned warehouse on the Czech border and further locations are under investigation. A Scotland Yard spokesman has informed us that the haul is part of a multi-million pound arms trade, and that a senior British Government Officer, Tarquin Smythe, may have been involved. Mr. Smythe, a chief European liaison officer, is being questioned regarding involvement in a European crime syndicate working to sell illegal arms overseas. Arrests have made in three countries. We will have more news on this story as it breaks.”
They cut to the weather and Oliver flicked off the TV and patted the bed. “I think you’re too late. Your friend, Alison, will be far too busy following the news to answer your call.”
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered, the immensity of what they’d been part of hitting her. “The whole thing was much bigger than I realized.”
“I know.” He looked at her with a serious expression. He’d been protecting her all along—she realized that now. To him, it may have been like the everyday, but to her it was like the unimaginable. He’d guided her through it without making her feel naïve or silly, and that, together with what had developed between them, meant the world to her.
“I thought it would be finished and gone, when we handed over the evidence. Silly of me, I guess?”
He sat up and reached for her. “Big problems tend to have a few aftershocks, you know, like when a pebble hits a pond.”
She swallowed. He was still leading her, gently, but leading her to an understanding of the situation. “Are you trying to tell me that it’s not over yet?”
“In essence it is, but there will be more stuff to deal with soon.”
There was a dark shadow at the back of his eyes. “More interviews when we get home, maybe the media to deal with as well, when it all comes out.”
She gave a weak laugh. “I have to admit the thought of another day like yesterday makes me want to stay in Prague and hide away here forever.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you for as long as you want me to be.
I promise.”
Her breath caught in her throat. To hear him say that meant so much. She lifted his hand and kissed his palm. “Thank you,” she whispered, and climbed back into bed beside him. She knew how hard it was for him to give her that promise, that commitment, and she wanted to show him how much it meant to her. Climbing over him, she moved her body against his until he groaned with need, then she made slow, sweet love to him, body, heart and soul.
Falling for Trouble: Chapter 9
The taxi slowed to a halt. “Avenue Court, Western Avenue,
yes?”
“Yes, thank you,” Alison replied to the cabbie when he put the light on. “Just give us a minute.” She turned back to Sonia. “Are you going to be okay? Would you like me to come in with you for a while?”
Sonia looked at the front door. A week had gone by since they had last pulled up in a taxi here together, and what a week it had been. This would be her first night in her own bed. She’d stayed at Oliver’s place for the rest of the week, but it was time to get
things back to some semblance of normality, despite the news that Tarquin had been granted bail the day before.
“I’ll be fine. You just get yourself home.”
Alison had been there for her all week, when Oliver couldn’t be present, and she’d needed it. Today’s debriefing with Tarquin’s senior manager had been more harrowing than all the other interviews put together. But she’d come through it, and as Oliver had predicted, she’d gained a lot of respect and a possible promotion out of the matter, if she wanted it.
“I just want life to get back to normal, put it all behind me.”
“Not altogether, surely?” Alison winked.
Sonia smiled. “No, not altogether, not the part about Oliver. I wouldn’t change that for the world.” She glanced at her watch then looked over at the front door again. “Oliver will be here soon but it’s been such a hell of a week, I just wanted to go home.”
“Call me if you need anything. I can be back here in five minutes.”
They hugged goodbye and Sonia waved her off before pulling her jacket closer around her shoulders. The evening was getting cool; the sun was low in the sky. She turned towards her flat, hitching her bag up onto her shoulder.
She heard the figure step out behind her, emerging from the bushes and her blood froze. She yelped when her right arm was seized behind her back.
“Keep quiet, bitch.”
Pain ripped through her shoulder. She turned her head fractionally and met his glacial eyes, his mouth tight with resentment. It was Tarquin, and he had a gun wedged into her back.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“What the hell do you want?”
“Make one more sound and you’ll give me a good excuse to use this. Get inside.” He nudged her in the direction of the building with the gun.
Her heart was racing, her mind ablaze. She staggered towards the steps. As she did, her bag slipped off her shoulder and before she knew what she was doing she’d instinctively twisted and hurled it around to hit him on the head.
She overbalanced and fell. A gunshot rang out. Blinded by fear, she felt him grab for her and he hauled her back to her feet. She saw that her bag had hit the pavement, her stuff spilling out. And next to it was his gun.
She wrenched free and darted away but he grabbed her by her hair, twisting it in one hand, while the other covered her mouth, forcing her to swallow her scream. When he jerked on her hair, she used the pain to help her fight, to defend herself. She thrashed her arms and legs, making it as difficult as possible for him to keep a grip on her. Tarquin wasn’t going to win; he was never going to win this battle.
“You bloody bitch,” he said as he struggled to keep her under control.
In the distance she heard shouts, an alarm being raised. A figure racing toward them caught her eye, a familiar figure. She bit hard onto Tarquin’s fingers then twisted round and kicked him in the groin and watched as he crumpled. Oliver raced over, ducked down and grabbed his arms, pulling them behind his back, a pair of hand-cuffs locking them into place.
“Nice move, Tarquin, your bail is over as of now.”
Holding tightly onto Tarquin, Oliver looked at her briefly, as if reassuring himself she was okay, then pulled his phone out of his pocket to call for assistance.
She panted, catching her breath then rubbed her head.
Tarquin was splayed on his knees, staring up at her with wild eyes. “Bitch,” he muttered again.
He was thoroughly evil. She could see it all too clearly now.
He’d been willing to get involved in the sale of arms and he’d used her brother as a shield for his criminal actions. All for money.
And she’d got in the way of his plans. His expression was filled with venom. There was madness there in his eyes too, and she knew she should have been afraid. But this wasn’t the same Sonia Harmond that had stood in this spot the week before. This was a very different Sonia Harmond.
***
Was there anything as richly pleasurable as this, she wondered as she lay in Oliver’s arms, soaking up every drop of love he offered her, every ounce of the blissful afterglow that surrounded them.
He raised his head from her neck where he’d been planting
gentle kisses, and propped himself on one elbow wedged into the pillows.
“Are you feeling okay now?”
“Oh, yes, more than okay, blissfully happy and… well, I know we’ve got the court case and all, but it feels like it’s over now.”
“Yes, I know what you mean.” He was stroking her, his fingers trailing from her neck to waist, circling her breasts, teasing her taut nipples before passing on again.
“Deep down, I think I had to see him in the flesh. It’s weird, but I’m kind of glad it happened.”
“The result is he won’t be able to bother us again.”
The dark shadow at the back of his eyes had gone. It had been there all week, and she had finally worked out what it meant. “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know, but it was a possibility. Anger and the need for revenge do strange, irrational things to people. He’s made it worse for himself, much worse, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to regain control in some small way.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it might not have happened, and you didn’t need any more stress.”
“Sometimes sharing information is necessary.”
Silence followed. This wasn’t just about Tarquin; they both knew that. This was about what was happening between them.
“Do you always work alone?” she added.
He considered his reply carefully. “No, I work in a team of people working alone.” He sighed. “You’ve got me there, love. I’m sorry. It’s just the way it’s always been.” He shrugged one shoulder.
She laughed, pushing her head back into the pillows, languorous with love even now. “And you say I’m the one with the trust issue.”
“I know. It’s hard to make changes to accommodate this…” His voice trailed off.
“This? What is ‘this,’ Oliver?”
He meshed his fingers in her hair. “Our relationship. How I feel about you is a big change for me. I’m not used to being part of a couple. I love you Sonia Harmond and I want to be with you.”
She knew that and that’s what made her brave, in every way.
“I love you too, Oliver Eaglestone. I want all that as well, but we have to start out right. Share with me, share your life with me, your thoughts. Share what’s in your mind and heart.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ll try, right now.” He stared at her silently for an age. “Sonia, I want you to be mine. I want you to be my wife.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Oliver, is that a proposal?”
“Yes, I guess it is.” He tugged her closer, his hands prying her thighs open. “Was it too soon to ask, do you think?” His fingers slid into her hot, wet niche, where she was still fluttering with sensation from their recent lovemaking.
“No, I don’t think so.” She could see her own pleasure reflected in his eyes. She loved him so much that her heart was brimming.
“So, what’s your answer?” he urged as he climbed over her.
“Hmm, well, I don’t know,” she mused, teasingly. “Unlike you, I am a team player by nature, so I should check with my team.”
“Your team?” He drew back, startled.
She chuckled. “Yes, my girlfriends, Alec, The Widow Har-
mond—”
“Say ‘yes’ to me and say it right now.” He nudged open her thighs, settling between them. ”I am part of your team now and I…” He paused while he eased his cock inside her, rolling his hips back and forth fractionally, baiting her for more. “…I insist.”
She moaned softly, then bit her lip and locked her legs around him, drawing him deeper with a quick upward movement of her hips.
He groaned deeply. “Please say yes,” he whispered as he moved against her, riding
her to the hilt.
“Yes, Oliver, I’ll marry you.” She grabbed the struts on the headboard and began to work her hips against his.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “That sounds so good, and that feels so good.” His eyes flashed open and his smile was triumphant.
“You see, isn’t everything better when you work in a team?”
She laughed with pleasure when their hips moved together again.
“Oh God, yes,” he replied and when he met and matched her
move for move, she was filled with sheer joy.
She couldn’t have been happier. In fact, falling for trouble had turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to her.
About the author:
Saskia Walker is a British writer who lives with her real life hero, Mark, and their big black cat in the north of England, close to the beautiful landscape of the Yorkshire moors. Because of her parents’ nomadic tendencies, Saskia grew up traveling the globe—an only child with a serious book habit. She dreamed of being a writer when she first read romance at the age of 12 and finally began writing seriously in the late 1990s. Since then she’s had short fiction published on both sides of the pond and is thrilled to be the first British author writing for Red Sage. She also writes erotic romance for loose-id.com.
The Disciplinarian
* * *
by Leigh Court
To My Reader:
What happens when a headstrong young Victorian wife is sent to London’s notorious Disciplinarian for instructions in wifely obedience? His surprising lessons soon have her writhing in pleasure instead of pain! Enjoy!
The Disciplinarian: Chapter 1
“Clarissa, I’m sending you to The Disciplinarian.”
From the doorway of the sitting room in their London town-
house, Clarissa Babcock stared in surprise at her husband. The Disciplinarian? Surely Charles couldn’t be talking about the notorious legend who was said to turn difficult wives into dutiful spouses using whatever means necessary? No. Charles was reading the paper, so she must simply have misheard him from behind the voluminous pages of newsprint. “I’m sorry, Charles. What did you say?”
