Thursday, April 13, 2017

Thieves' Honor Part 4 (#freefiction #erotic #serial)


Shoes and panties

I found my heart was beating hard in response to his description. My mind flashed back to the train and briefly, I felt ghostly fingers squirming in my sex. I pushed the recollection away, but it was too late. I was wet again, and aching.

"Raise your skirt for me, Blaine," Avram continued, his eyes riveted on my reddening visage. "Let me see how wet you are."

I wanted to refuse him, wanted to slap his face, turn on my heel and head out that fancy front door. Why didn't I?

I could use the alcohol as an excuse, for I was indeed feeling a bit loose. But that would be lying to myself. I wanted to refuse him, but at the same time I wanted to obey.

I uncrossed my legs. Slowly, as if in a dream, I pulled the black fabric up until it was bunched around my waist. My eyes did not leave his. It was he who first broke the stare, dropping his gaze to my exposed crotch. I watched a grin steal over his face.

He licked his lips. "Not a natural brunette, I see."

"No," I replied, "but I prefer my hair black. It suits my character." I was amazed at my own poise.

"Oh, I don't know. Red-heads have a reputation for being fiery and passionate. Don't you think that describes you?"

"Not at all. I'm as cold-blooded as they come."

Avram grinned. He reached out a hand as if to touch me. "Oh, really?"

Instinctively, I spread my thighs wider, showing him the pink lips nestling among my russet curls. What am I doing? asked one part of my mind. I am never this needy, this out-of-control. I gripped the arms of the chair, knuckles white, fighting my own impulses. A bit of liquid trickled from my cleft and was absorbed by the velvet upholstery. Avram's eyes glittered. I understood that his observant gaze had not missed this detail.

It seemed that we sat frozen in this tableau for long minutes, with his blunt-fingered hand inches away from my naked sex. Touch me, I screamed internally. I bit my lip to keep myself silent. Avram seemed to be involved in some inner struggle as well, though I couldn't imagine its nature.

There was a knock on the door, and the spell broke. Burke entered, in shirt sleeves and a chef's apron. "Dinner is served," he announced evenly. He gave no indication that he noticed my ignominious position, though it could hardly have been more obvious.

"Thank you. We'll be right there." My captor and host held out his hand to me. "We can continue this after dinner." His tone left me wondering whether he meant our business discussion or our sexual confrontation.

Burke served one of the tastiest meals I have ever eaten. I was too preoccupied to enjoy it. I must have made small talk, but my attention kept returning to my miserable, swollen pussy. I hardly noticed when Burke refilled my wine glass, which seemed to empty itself of its own accord. I watched Avram's movements, decisive and yet graceful, and felt a strange hollowness in my chest.

I did notice, almost automatically, that we ate off antique china, with solid silver flatware. This guy must be really loaded. What was this proposal of his, anyway? Why did my gender or my looks matter, if he wanted me for a heist? Maybe he needed me as a decoy, to keep someone busy while he got the goods? But any hooker could do that; he wouldn't need a professional like me.

I caught Avram studying me and blushed furiously. Damn, what was it about this man that I found so unsettling? Usually I could take any guy and wrap him around my little finger. Whereas when this character turned his gaze on me, I melted into a sodden puddle of helpless lust.

I was confused and giddy when I stood up from the table. "Let's get back to business," I proclaimed. I was surprised at the slurring in my voice. The room spun around me, and I would have fallen if Avram had not caught hold of me.

"I think that is going to have to wait until tomorrow. You are very drunk, Miss Ford!" He slipped his arm around my waist to support me.

"I am not!" I exclaimed, but I knew he was telling the truth. Meanwhile, I was glorying in the strength of him, exulting despite my intoxication that he was finally touching me.

"I'll take you upstairs and put you to bed. We can continue our discussion tomorrow."

Yes! I thought. Let's go to bed. Meanwhile, I could barely put one foot in front of the other.

He half-carried me up to a pleasant, spacious room and sat me down on the four-poster bed. Before I could stop him, he had pulled off my boots. Then he turned to leave.

I attempted to rise and stop him. Somehow I couldn't get to my feet.

"Sleep it off, Blaine. I'll see you at breakfast."

"No, wait..."

"And I've decided not to lock you in. I know you'd never try to steal my silver. Thieves' honor and all. In any case, all the outside doors and windows are alarmed."

Damn! He was so infuriating! He closed the door behind him, and I sank back onto the pillows, raging in mingled frustration and fury.

The door opened again. "Oh, by the way, you'll find what you need in the night table drawer." He smiled, a caricature of sweetness. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight," I mumbled. What was he talking about?

A wave of dizziness took me when I sat up. After it subsided, I pulled open the drawer next to me. I didn't know whether to laugh or scream when I saw the assortment of dildos and vibrators. Damn, damn, damn! He was the devil himself.

I turned out the light and tried to sleep. I was just too horny. Finally, I relented. I dumped my rumpled blouse and skirt on the floor. Then I chose a shiny silver, variable-speed toy and went to work on myself.

I had been in a state of continuous arousal for hours, since our encounter on the train. I expected to come almost immediately. Yet somehow, I couldn't. I savagely twisted my clit, turned the speed up to maximum, plunged the vibrator into my cunt again and again. I imagined that Avram was tied to the bed and that I was riding him mercilessly, abusing his cock while he begged for release. Oh, how I'd love to get even with him! The thought of having him in my power, of fucking him forever while he remained frustrated, brought me close, very close.

But it was only when I reversed my fantasy and imagined myself pinned beneath him that the orgasm broke over me, and washed me into temporary unconsciousness.

The climax cleared my head, burning through my alcoholic haze like sunlight through fog. It was obvious that I had to get out of here. This man was dangerous. He knew too much about me. But first, I had to relieve him of that evidence he had gathered on me. And maybe, just maybe, I could find something to incriminate him, something to keep him away from me in the future.

It shouldn't be too difficult, I reasoned, for a professional.

Continued tomorrow!

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