Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  out at an angle over the lower floor, such that I could almost lie atop it. I peeked back to see if anyone

  was looking up our direction, and then gave a startled squeak when I turned back to see Jeremiah

  standing before me. I hadn’t even heard him move.

  The ex-Commando was sneaky that way.

  Rough fingers trailed down my collarbone, between my breasts and across my belly. The surface

  muscles fluttered at his touch, trembling with anticipation. He continued his exploration down, but

  stopped just short of my mound. “Go to the window, bend down so your palms are on the glass, and

  spread your legs.”

  My breath hitched, but any protest I had died at the unyielding look on his face. Dropping my eyes,

  I turned around and did as he said, putting my hands on the glass. My breasts were in full view of

  everyone downstairs, should they think to look up and if the glass was at all see-through. I spread my

  legs and waited, watching what was happening downstairs.

  Some of the action had changed downstairs. Two men, one blonde and one with dark hair, were

  now chaining a woman to the wall. She was naked as well, petite beside the two men on either side of

  her. I couldn’t see her facial expression, but my breathing sped up as the dark-haired man knelt before

  her and swung the girl’s legs over his shoulders. The blonde man grabbed her hair, jerking her head

  back into a rough kiss as the man on his knees settled his face between her thighs.

  Fingers stroked my core, the sudden invasion eliciting a surprised cry from me. “You’re so wet,”

  Jeremiah murmured behind me, but when I turned to look at him he shook his head. “Watch what is

  happening downstairs.”

  The brunette writhed, her arms trapped by the restraints, as the man beside her dipped his mouth to

  play with her breasts. Her back was bowed from the pleasure, mouth wide in a cry I’m sure I’d have

  heard if not for the glass. The space between my own legs throbbed, desperate for touch. “Jeremiah,” I

  moaned, making a small noise again when the other woman gave another cry of pleasure.

  Fingers danced down my backside, lifting and separating the wet folds between my thighs. Then a

  hot breath was my only warning as Jeremiah’s mouth clamped down on the aching bud. I gave a cry,

  my arms giving out. The window reverberated as my elbows hit. I laid my cheek against the glass,

  unable to hold myself up under the sensual onslaught. My breasts pressed against the window, and I no

  longer cared who saw or heard my pleasure.

  “Mm, I’ve missed tasting you like this,” Jeremiah murmured against me. His tongue traced the

  edges of my quivering entrance and I gave another choked groan. “And I love hearing you cry out for

  me.”

  “Jeremiah.” The word was a desperate sob, which he answered by plunging two fingers deep inside

  me. My gaze travelled back to the downstairs trio, who were all back on their feet. It was the blonde

  man this time that moved around front, lifting the woman so that she straddled his naked hips. He

  thrust inside her, the muscles of his ass tight, hips pistoning himself in and out.

  Jeremiah’s fingers moved in time with the other man’s thrusts, until I was a quivering mess. I

  heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper behind me as the dark-haired man below us released the

  woman’s wrists. The blond man lowered himself to the floor, allowing the woman to straddle him.

  The dark man followed, positioning himself behind the woman, pushing her down so she was lying

  against the blonde man’s chest.

  I panted in anticipation of my own as Jeremiah removed his fingers, positioning himself at my

  weeping opening. As the man below pressed himself into the other woman, Jeremiah slid inside me

  deliciously slow. I laid my forehead against the glass as he stretched me, the simple friction sending

  shards of pleasure dancing through my body.

  “You’re mine,” he said in a soft, dangerous voice, as his hips began to rotate. With each thrust, I

  cried out, closing my eyes so it was only my own pleasure. I tilted my hips up, giving him more

  access, and he pushed inside me harder, his fingers digging into my hips.

  Taking an unsteady breath, I levered myself back up onto my hands, bracing myself against his

  thrusts. The heel of one hand went to the small of my back and I bowed my spine, and was rewarded

  by a sharp intake of breath behind me. Smiling, I clamped down around him, squeezing first my belly

  muscles, then my butt muscles, and heard him groan.

  “God, you’re so tight.”

  Pleased with myself, I turned my attention back to the floor below, and gave a small cry of my

  own at the sight. The woman’s head was tilted back, her mouth open in a cry, as behind and beneath

  her both men thrust into her body. Theirs was a perfect rhythm, a set pace so that all three were

  moving as one unit. The raw sensuality of their movements was its own turn-on: I couldn’t take my

  eyes away.

  Jeremiah’s hands wrapped around each globe of my butt and pulled them apart, kneading the flesh

  as he thrust between. The hard breaths coming from him told me he was close, and frankly so was I.

  Tilting my hips back again, I matched his thrusts with my own, feeling my own orgasm rising quickly

  to the surface.

  As if reading my mind, Jeremiah let go of me with one hand, reaching down and around my body.

  The first tiny flick of my hidden bud made my body jerk, sensation exploding throughout me. I gave a

  loud cry, and another as he did it again.

  “I love hearing you come,” he murmured in my ear, biting the tender flesh as he massaged the

  small nub of my clit. The orgasm that had lingered in the background rose quickly to the surface,

  crashing into me with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt. My cry rang off the walls of that small room

  as my body shook, the pleasure breaking over me like a wave.

  Behind me, Jeremiah gave a hoarse shout, his fingers biting into my waist, as he came inside me.

  His teeth briefly grabbed hold of the tender flesh of my shoulder, the bite almost painful, but only

  added to the carnal sensations of the moment. He kissed the spot and then laid his body over me,

  hands against the glass beside mine as we both struggled to regain our breath. I moved my right hand

  so that my fingers entwined with his, and he gave my hand a small squeeze.

  Below, the trio of bodies was disentangling itself from one another, apparently having finished

  with their own pleasure. Several people around them were clapping, which I found odd. “Was that

  down there just a show?” I asked as Jeremiah pulled himself out of me.

  “No, it was real. The other people are showing their appreciation for allowing them access.” He

  laid a kiss to my shoulder. “Perhaps when we go down, you can also tell them how much you

  appreciated it.”

  My mouth dropped open and I felt my face heat up. “I can’t do that.” I peered down at the lower

  floor. “Are you sure they couldn’t see us?”

  “Would it have mattered if they could?”

  I mulled over his words as I put my clothes on again. The thought of strangers watching us make

  love wasn’t quite so repulsive suddenly, especially since I’d just gotten off to doing just that. In all the

  displays I’d seen tonight, there had been no interruption by outsiders, nobody who had tried to join in.

  That was my biggest fear, that someone would try and touch
me, but something told me Jeremiah

  wouldn’t allow that. Everyone at this party was being very respectful of others’ boundaries, however.

  Indeed, despite the garish costumes and overt sexuality, I didn’t feel at all uncomfortable around the

  people here.

  My eyes having adjusted to the darkness, I looked around the room. “We couldn’t even make it to

  the bed,” I noted, and rolled my eyes at Jeremiah’s wolfish grin.

  "If the lady wants a go on the mattress," Jeremiah said, pulling me roughly into his arms, "I have

  no objections."

  I swatted his shoulder, but tilted my head back as his lips descended onto mine. I moaned into his

  mouth, my body flaming again at his touch, as he molded my body against his.

  The cellphone in his pants pocket chimed.

  "Don't get that," I whispered, trailing my fingers down his muscled torso. My lips moved across

  his jaw and down his neck as I pressed the heel of my hand against the rising hardness I felt between

  his thighs.

  The phone rang again, and Jeremiah stiffened. "I need to get this," he murmured. Kissing my head

  in an almost apology, he gently disengaged himself from my arms and pulled the phone from his

  pocket. Stepping away, he checked the screen, and then headed toward the doorway. "This is

  Jeremiah," I heard him say in a low voice before letting himself out, leaving me alone.

  I stood there for several seconds, unsure how to feel about being summarily abandoned. Moments

  like this had grown more frequent over the last couple weeks, awkward situations where we'd be in the

  middle of something and he'd walk out of the room to take a call. Part of me tried not to take it

  personally—it was his business, and I didn't want to seem like I was snooping. But another more

  selfish part of me wanted to snatch the phone out of his hand every time and demand more attention.

  I finished dressing, rearranging my hair to give him time to come back so we could hopefully

  finish our moment. When the seconds ticked past and he didn't reappear, I sighed and left the room,

  heading back downstairs alone.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you again!”

  I hugged Cherise close, and then ushered her inside. “When did you arrive in New York?” I asked

  as she stared slack-jawed around the penthouse.

  “Only last night. David wanted to come too, he’s only been to New York City itself a few times.”

  Cherise’s phone call had been out of the blue and a pleasant surprise. “I would have loved to see

  him too. How are you doing?”

  “Never mind me. Girl, you’ve moved up in the world! Is this where you’re living now?”

  “Mostly,” I hedged, looking back at the spacious apartment. I still kept my small studio, but it was

  almost a formality at this point. My nights were spent much more often in the Manhattan loft and in

  Jeremiah’s arms. Somehow though, it felt like I was bragging if I said that.

  “Are you still working at the charity? You seemed to really enjoy it.”

  I shook my head sadly. “It started getting weird for me once it got out I was dating one of the

  major contributors.”

  Cherise frowned at me. “They start pestering you for money or something?”

  “No, not that. It was mainly just how I felt.” I sighed, and then gave a humorless laugh. “You know

  where I come from, so I’m having a hard time adjusting to the fact I’m dating one of the wealthiest

  people in the world.”

  “Well, you’d better get used to it. I’ve seen the way that man looks at you.” Cherise winked. “He

  freaking adores you.”

  “What about you?” I asked, distracting myself from my own thoughts. “Tell me everything about

  Borneo.”

  “It’s the most fantastic feeling in the world. We finally managed to get an ultrasound machine for

  our clinic, thanks in part to the fundraiser you threw earlier this year. Now David wants to build a

  whole new section to the clinic, essentially doubling its size.”

  Cherise and her husband David, a doctor, ran a small charity clinic on the Indonesian island. I’d

  gone to college with both of them, and we’d unexpectedly reconnected last year while in Paris. She

  talked about the rainforest and the people they helped, and a lump slowly formed in my chest. My

  misery must have shown through because she stopped in the middle of a story. “What’s wrong?”

  I waved it off. “It’s nothing.”

  “No, it’s not nothing.” She got up from her chair and crossed over to sit beside me on the couch.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I shrugged, and then sighed. “I envy you. While I’m eating caviar and riding in limos, you’re out

  saving the world and splinting the broken legs of orphans. I just feel...useless here.”

  “Really? You eat caviar every day?”

  A small smile tipped one corner. “Actually, not really, I can’t stomach eating that stuff.”

  “Girl, if you think caviar isn’t palatable, you would not want to hear about some of the things I’ve

  had to eat.” Cherise’s eyes twinkled, as if she were dying to tell me anyway. “But why aren’t you still

  working at the charity? Did Jeremiah tell you to quit?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” I hurried to defend him, shaking my head. “I feel like there’s some

  mold I’m supposed to fit, like I’m supposed to be wearing big hats and dress suits now.”

  “Honey, he fell in love with you, not some high-society socialite. I’m sure if he wanted that, there

  were tons throwing themselves at him.”

  I sighed again. “It just feels weird whenever people bring up his wealth in a conversation, and they

  do that a lot. Maybe I’m just being sensitive, but sometimes it’s as if that’s all he is to these people: a

  giant wallet.”

  “Yeah,” Cherise murmured after a moment of silence, “I can see how that would be a problem.”

  She reached out and took my hand. “Is that it though? You could talk to him about this, see what he

  says.”

  I shook my head. “The last month or so, he’s been really pulling back. We had a nice night last

  night,”—I felt my face flush at the memory—“but he’s been out with work more lately.”

  “You don’t think that he’s, well...”

  “No, I really doubt it’s that,” I said quickly. “I don’t think he’s cheating, just working. But I

  haven’t seen him much.”

  Cherise blew out a breath. “Silly goose,” she chided, “you quit your job and expect him to

  entertain you?”

  “Hey, you’re supposed to make me feel better!” I gave a rueful laugh. “I’ve been an idiot, haven’t

  I?”

  “Well, if this doesn’t work out, you can always come help us in Borneo.”

  I stilled, staring at Cherise. “Seriously?”

  She shrugged. “We’d love to have you, and living expenses are pretty cheap. Frankly, I’d

  appreciate the company.”

  “That would be fun,” I said after a moment, returning her smile. “I’ve been lonely lately too, and

  yes, don’t say it, that’s my own fault.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s totally your fault. You should really talk to Jeremiah about this.”

  “If I ever see him.”

  “You said you went out last night?”

  I flushed again. “Well, that was too fun to bring it up.”

  Cherise grinned, and I flushed harder. “Come on,” she said, standing up, “show me around
this

  place.”

  “I should take you to the house in the Hamptons,” I said, “that place is huge.”

  She linked her arm in mine. “Of course you should. But for now I’m in an actual Manhattan

  penthouse, so I expect the royal tour.”

  I smiled back at her. “You’re going to die when you see this kitchen.”

  * * * *

  “I’ve heard that the foie gras here is simply divine. Although you should probably skip that, dear, it

  has so much fat. Perhaps a salad for you?”

  One of the downsides to dating billionaire Jeremiah Hamilton was dealing with his mother,

  Georgia. Lunches like this were more a chore and less a delight. Even now, seated at a table in a

  ridiculously expensive French restaurant, everything about her grated on my nerves. Making matters

  worse, Jeremiah had just stepped out to make a phone call, leaving me along with the odious woman.

  Trying to ignore her, I focused on the menu. None of the items had prices, and I didn’t recognize

  some of the names. The waiter stood patiently beside me, and I asked, “What do you recommend?”

  “You can’t even order for yourself?” Georgia gave a disdainful sniff. “Really, my dear, show a

  little backbone.”

  The edge of the menu crumpled in my fist. The waiter bit his lip, whether to hold in amusement or

  in sympathy, I couldn’t tell. “The Kobe beef medallions in a wine reduction are very popular.”

  “That sounds good,” I said, handing him my menu just as Jeremiah returned to the table.

  “For you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  I stared at the water glass in front of me, trying not to glare at Jeremiah. Being left alone with his

  mother wasn’t my idea of romantic. Indeed, I’d had no idea she would be joining us, but she’d already

  been at our table when we arrived. There had been no chance to protest her presence without looking

  like a bitch myself, so I’d kept silent.

  “I saw the Tiptons last week, darling. They asked after you which I thought was very nice.

  Apparently Francine saw you in the park while you still used that cane.”

  Jeremiah had only put away the walking aid permanently a few weeks back. The injuries inflicted

  by a madman had mostly healed, although the ex-Army Ranger still wasn’t one hundred percent. I