But the worst thing is his calm smile as he watches every twitch and ripple of my torment, gauging just how hard to suck, how softly to lick, how gently to stroke my shivering skin, how hard and how long to touch me up with his teasing little blue flames.
I even have to tell him, to describe each touch in detail and remember to call him ‘sir’ as I do it. And all the while I’m throbbing, aching and desperate for a touch on the place that matters most. And every time, just as I think he’s going to reach it, he pulls away, leaving me sweating, twitching and endlessly denied.
At last I start to shake all over. ‘I can’t take much more of this,’ I murmur, desperate. A touch of the thing on my cringing nipple makes me shriek. ‘Please, Darnley, no more. I’ve had enough …’
All at once he’s curling over me and claiming my mouth, his tongue hot and eager, and as he presses against me I feel his erection, harder than ever, long and hot and burning.
‘Me too. Get your knees up.’
His harsh command is a surprise, but his sudden change of position makes me gasp. Now he’s kneeling over me, his face buried in my dip, his tongue searching deep into me with eager, lapping sweeps. With his business sector so close to my face I reach up eagerly to kiss him. At once he shifts so I can lick his shaft. I taste his glorious, glossy skin, the ridges and curves of his manhood hot and delicious, and the wetter I make him the more he moves so that I can reach him, and at last he surges into my mouth, fucking my face while he laps at my eager, tormented little bud.
As my climax billows up in a sudden unstoppable wave I want to shriek out loud but my mouth is full so I yawn open my throat instead to swallow him deep. Seconds later he erupts into me, pumping his cream in a flood of sweet, satisfying promise.
After a few moments he pulls away and swivels round to face me, stretches out his full length along me while he folds his arm over my waist and buries his face in my hair. ‘See? You’re sensational.’
Next day I meet Billy for lunch. When I walk in I’m shocked at how gloomy she looks.
‘Eldon wants me to go to Europe with him.’
‘Billy, that’s terrific news. But – there’s a problem?’
‘Sure is.’ She glowers at me. ‘No way I’m going. And I’ve told him he has to get a job. A real one.’
I swallow. If Darnley’s video ever gets to court a break-up’s the last thing Eldon needs. ‘Are you sure this is a good time?’
Her eyes flash. ‘Jeez, Ella, I thought you’d take my side, not his.’
I pat her hand, remind her she gets an allowance too – the only reason she’s an intern – and tell her to do what feels right. As she leaves I wave her off and pick up the tab.
On the way out I get another shock.
‘Hi, El.’
I stare round, trying to place the voice. The only man sitting near enough is bearded, slightly raffish-looking. His coat-collar’s turned up and his face lurks under a grimy baseball cap.
‘
Ryan?
What are you doing here?’
From the shadow of his cap his sneer is instantly familiar. ‘Talking to you. Shit knows why. How’s tricks?’
I glare at him. ‘Get lost.’
He leans back in his seat. ‘Still mad at me, huh? If you must know I was hoping to meet Freda. But I guess she stood me up.’
I glance round. The café’s crowded. ‘You must be crazy coming here.’
‘Tell me about it. The whole family are out to get me.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘No, seriously, El. Those photos I took in the summer to launch my new product? They’re after me for breach of non-disclosure. They want to sue my ass. I thought Freda might put in a word. But since she’s not here … maybe you could?’
‘Nothing doing.’ I say firmly. ‘Anyway, did it? Launch it, I mean?’
He blanks for a moment. ‘Er, yeah. That is, until your boyfriend flooded the market with his upgrade about a nanosecond later. Still, shit happens. Now I’ve got work in Las Vegas. Leaving today, as a matter of fact. Say hi to Freda, if you run into her.’
All at once he looks scared. ‘
Whoa.
Gotta go.’ He springs to his feet and makes a dash for the back of the restaurant just as two burly men push past me, startling the other diners. The whole thing takes about four seconds.
Bewildered, I turn to see a tall, dark figure blocking the door, his suit immaculate, his tailoring impeccable.
Darnley.
For a split second I forget the reason he’s here. I simply revel in the fact that he is. I join him at the door, catching a faint whiff of citrus as my Darnley antennae home in on his aftershave. ‘You’re after Ryan?’
He nods. ‘Wait in the car. It’s just along the street. I’ll drive you home.’
The gleam in his eyes sends a shiver through me. All at once the loud chatter around us fades into the background.
I swallow, longing to say
yes
. ‘I can’t. I’m late back as it is. I’m working.’
‘Me too. Got a rat to catch. See you later.’ He grins as he slips past me into the café. I shake my head slowly and head back to work.
Later – a lot later — Darnley walks in looking mighty pleased with himself. He has a cut over one eye and a bruise on his cheekbone.
I roll my eyes and pour him a drink. ‘Happy now?’
‘Some.’ He grins briefly then his expression darkens. ‘He got away. And he’s still an asshole.’
‘That’s no excuse,’ I say, primly.
He leans back his head and closes his eyes. ‘What were you talking about?’ His eyes glimmer as they open a fraction. ‘I saw you through the window.’
Startled, I raise my chin. ‘Oh, this and that. Like those pictures he took. Like the product he launched being overtaken by yours.’ I lean forward and kiss him on the jaw, checking first for bruises. ‘Like you being after him. He’s got work in Las Vegas. Guess he wanted to say goodbye, not get beaten up. And he came to see Freda, not me.’
Darnley’s expression blanks. ‘I’ll talk to her. He’s up to something. He stole our idea in the first place. I told you we’d withheld it from sale as unethical. And he’s still got those pictures. Hey. What’s this?’
A slow smile spreads over his face as I loosen my robe and dip one breast into his whisky, presenting the dripping result for a taste. He does it, his eyes gleaming, and then I try the other. He tastes again, and this time he engulfs it with his mouth and feasts for a few moments, then lies back again.
‘More,’ he says softly.
We soon forget about my ex. By the time his drink is gone my robe is pooled on the floor, my thighs are spread wide over his lap and Darnley’s smile is a fixture. I feel an upheaval below me as he rises to his feet, lifting me bodily as he does it, and pulls me close.
‘Time for some fun.’
Before I can speak he captures my mouth and in seconds I’m flat on my back on the long sofa and he’s curving over me, his mouth still fastened on mine and his clothes being rapidly unfastened. With long, slow sweeps of his hands he maps my soft, swelling curves and lingers on my arching, taut surfaces, his touch making me strain upwards to reach him, his urgency sending ripples of arousal all through me. He pulls away, his face stern, the new bruising a dark, menacing shadow.
Has his encounter with my ex excited him?
The rage I get, the excitement I don’t. ‘You should get that seen to,’ I whisper. ‘And I don’t mean just your face.’
His eyes flicker. ‘I am seeing to it. Open up for me, Ella. Please.’ He’s stopped smiling.
‘Why the hurry? We’ve got plenty of time.’
‘
Please
.’ His face contracts like he’s in pain. Maybe he is, if he’s been in a fight.
‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’
‘You too.’ His sudden grin lights up my life. ‘Tainting a man’s drink with your breasts? Disgraceful.’
‘You enjoyed it. Be honest.’ I scold in fun but his sudden dark glimmer hints a warning.
He’s on edge.
He won’t take much more of this.
‘It was still an outrage.’ His grin contracts into a mask of tension. ‘Please, Ella.’
The pain in his eyes melts my will. I open. As I do it I lean up to kiss him. There’s a rip of foil and a grunt of satisfaction, then he pins my wrists, rises up over me and plunges gloriously inside, his heat and his girth sending wave after wave of pleasure through me, his intent, burning look holding me in thrall.
Wolfe Time
. Later still we eat. Verna’s meal is delicious – pan-fried bass with tiny shallots and wild mushrooms and wholesome blueberry pancakes to follow, with a jug of maple syrup. Darnley eats heartily. I start well but soon seize up under his steady look.
After our meal he leads me into the bedroom and pulls me down on top of him. This time there’s no ifs, no buts. He says nothing at all. His eyes do all the talking – in turns pleading, stern, narrowed in ecstasy, half-closed in pleasure.
I arch to meet him, turn when he signals, pose when he laughs, cling when he enters. Every touch makes me sing, every release makes me glow. Once I kneel up next to him and tower over his sprawling torso, trying to decide where to pounce, how to make the most of the glories stretched before me.
He guides my decision with a light dart of his fingers across his tense little nipples, so I start with those. Then I make my way up to his smiling, lazy mouth for a brief reunion, then move down lower, following the sloping curves of his powerful muscles until I reach hotter territory, teasing his quivering landscapes as long as I dare until I each the greatest prize of all.
And then I feast.
‘We’ll need the helicopter.
Now.
It’s urgent. And send the maid up later for Miss Dean’s things. We’ve no time to pack.’
I surface slowly, thick with sleep. I’ve no idea what the time is but it’s still dark, so something in the small hours. Darnley’s barking instructions into his phone. As my eyes flick open he cuts the call and glances at me.
‘You awake? Good. Get up.’
He sits on the edge of the bed and places a warm hand gently on my bare shoulder. He’s fully dressed, his loafers, immaculate jeans and leather jacket a stark contrast to his spotless open-necked shirt and a sharp rebuke to my sleepy abandon.
‘Lydia’s in hospital. She’s taken an overdose.’
I stare at him. ‘How bad is it?’
He looks grim ‘Pretty bad. And it’s not the first time. Aaron’s not saying much, but he wants us there.’
At that moment a light tap on the door announces the maid. Behind her I see Bullen, stolid as ever.
‘All ready, sir.’
Darnley glances down at me. ‘Be quick. They’ll send your things on later.’ He darts a look at the maid. ‘Town clothes for a few days, jeans, warm jacket. She may need a cocktail dress and accessories. See to it.’
He turns to me, his manner crisp and professional. ‘The helicopter’s waiting. We’ll give you two minutes.’
I spring out of bed, race to find something to travel in and snatch up a slim jersey dress with a wide belt and a pair of slender shoes. A tad slinky for a sickroom but quick to put on. I wriggle into it in the bathroom and spend all of two minutes scooping make-up and hairbrush into my purse.
Pulling on a jacket on the way to the helipad I shiver in the chill night air of early November.
He puts his arm round me as we hurry towards our transport. ‘We’ll stay in a hotel. Aaron offered us a room in their apartment, but I’d sooner be independent.’ He hesitates as we reach the door, the wind from the rotors ruffling his thick hair, still tousled from sleep.
He lowers his voice and leans close to my ear so I’ll hear him over the noise of the engine. ‘Before we take off, I guess I’d better warn you, while we’re out of earshot of the pilot – Aaron’s saying it’s all my fault.’
‘Why?’ After take-off I gaze anxiously into his eyes. ‘Why does Aaron say it’s your fault?’ I try to speak low but the engines are noisy this close to the ground.
His face contracts. ‘They saw a copy of my video. She found it hard to take.’
I swallow. ‘But you said you told them all that stuff at the time. Surely they already knew?’
He frowns. ‘I’m not sure they took it in at the time. Or even believed me. I sent them a copy when I sent yours, just to let them know what I was doing. I can’t help how they deal with it now. But still …’ He tails off.
I squeeze his hand and feel a slight pressure in return. We ride the rest of the way holding hands.
This time our flight to New York is a far cry from the happy trip we made barely days ago. So much has happened since then I’m half surprised to see everything looking much the same – the trees still bright with fall colour, the towers of Manhattan gleaming in the sunshine as dawn breaks over the city.
But now Darnley’s fighting for survival and Lydia’s fighting for life.
‘Try to relax.’ I murmur. ‘You’re very tense.’
‘I’m always tense when I see them.’ His eyes lock on mine as he slowly takes my hand in his, strokes my palm for a few seconds and then releases me.
On touchdown we hurry down to our suite, check on the facilities and then take a cab straight round to the hospital. When we finally reach Lydia’s floor the first person we see is Aaron, pacing angrily and checking his watch. I’m shocked to see how tired he looks. His hair, normally combed and neat, is messy. He has stubble on his chin.
As we draw near he glares at us. ‘You took long enough to get here. And that video? What the hell were you thinking? I’m not sure you should even see her. Don’t you think you’ve done enough, son?’ He fixes Darnley with red-rimmed eyes, his face gaunt. He seems shrunken from shock, genuinely distressed.
He really loves her
. The thought touches my heart but Darnley’s fast losing patience.
‘Calm down, Dad. You’re not doing yourself any favours. I told you why I made the video. Other people may have been involved with that guy. It’s not just about us any more. And we’re here now, so deal with it. We’ll talk later.’ He lowers his voice and places a restraining hand on his father’s arm. ‘And keep your voice down. We’ll be overheard.’
His father takes this in silence and then scowls at me. ‘Should she even be here?’
‘It’s OK, sir,’ I say smoothly. He’s distraught, no time to remind him he asked us to come. ‘I know some of it. We just want to be here. Maybe you should get some rest. We’ll sit with her for a while.’