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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