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It’s been such a tense journey. Quiet, with an extreme tension drifting from driver’s seat to passenger. I feel like I’m choking with lust for him. An invisible noose around my neck tightening by the second. I’m so clammy, I have to subtly blow my hair off my face. The jitters have invaded my whole body, and I know I’m a permanent dark cherry colour, anticipating what awaits when we stop. Right now, I don’t need a gentleman, I need savaging. Like Cate advised, I need to get Adrien Knight out of my system.
I see how fixed on the road he is. He won’t even look at me. I watch his jawline grinding because he feels it too, and I have to remove my view, sharpish. If I don’t they’ll be an RTA on Bridge Street, caused by me propelling myself at him. His constricting grip on that steering wheel should be on me. Me Adrien. Me!
He swipes his card and we pull under into the darkness of the garage. The garage! It’s torturous. There’s build-up, and there’s build-up. He’s a businessman and he’s giving me the hard-sell.
He gets out as I pull on the handle to open my side, but he doesn’t give me the chance. He’s there, holding the door open for me. I rotate my body and place my feet on the floor, inhaling the heavy air. Jeez, I do hope he hasn’t spotted me physically quaking.
“Thank you.” I swallow down.
He presses the central locking. “Elizabeth,” he calls, as I charge ahead to the elevator without him. “Patience.” He grins strangely. “I shall see you very soon.” He walks to the stairwell and I glare at him. Where the hell is he going? “I want to make it in one piece, so I’ll take the stairs. Could do with the warm-up.” He winks mischievously. “You and I in another elevator, is not a good mix at the moment. Sixty-three.” He disappears through the door.
God. Where did he get his willpower from? Usually it will spring into action at the slightest indication of sex. Most men would have lost all inhibition at this stage. No matter how much I tell myself this is a good thing, he’s being honourable, it’s not fucking working.
The elevator doors open so I step inside, wheezy in heat. I lean over and stab hard on the number pad. I’m now wittering to myself. He’s making me lose my mind. Straightening up, I look at my reflection. I knew it, I’m a constant rouge shade. Skin laced with sweat, my cheeks and neck aflame. I promptly remove my jacket and give my hair a flick through with my fingers.
“God, come on.” I bob up and down impatiently.
Finally, I see the door to his apartment. A black door with a silver sixty-three and peephole. There’s not a chance he’s made it here before me. I linger in thought, unsure whether to wait or go and knock.
Liz, this is it. It has been two years, and you may be a little rusty. But my god girl, you deserve this night.
There’s movement inside the penthouse and it startles me. The door suddenly swings open and he’s there. He leans against the door frame with thin suggestive eyes. I hold a breath as my jelly legs move by him, and across the sea of black marble. There’s a smell, a tasty scent, along with the hint of melting candle wax.
I lie my jacket on the kitchen surface in what I try to make look like an evocative way. The dining table has been dressed with candles and red roses. He doesn’t note my flirtatious eyes willing him to take me right now. He just moves by me, and pulls out a chair at the table.
There’s only one place set with a silver covered platter on the table. I sit down and cough awkwardly. Not because I need to, but because I’m unable to take in air correctly.
He lifts off the lid to reveal a Michelin star dish. “Steak tartare, with a red wine dew, and creamed potatoes,” he says.
“You really didn’t need to do all this.” I’m out of sorts. I have an appetite, yes. But for food, no. “There’s only one plate. Do you not eat?”
“Of course,” he says, smiling. “I have very specific dietary requirements, and only eat at certain times of the day. Besides, I’m not really hungry this evening.”
I don’t want to offend him after he’s gone to all this effort, but I simply cannot eat it. It’s kind of bizarre to think of myself eating while he watches me.
“You’re confusing me,” I whisper coyly with a side glance.
I have to tell him. I can’t go on like this. I’m aching for him and he’s making me feel ridiculous for doing so.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted you to feel at ease.”
“And I do... I think. Look, can you explain to me in layman’s terms, what it is that’s happening between us?” Oh no, all this sexual pressure has created an outspoken monster. “You don’t need to wine and dine me... Adrien.”
I peer up, hoping he doesn’t now think I’m some thankless bitch. I hope he wants me, with the same deep need I’m ailed with right now.
“Come with me, and I’ll show you.” He takes my hand with a firm grip.
I stand up and he leads me by the central fire. We come to a door across from his office, and he opens it up into the room of all rooms. It’s stunning and so different from the rest of the penthouse. Dark and old fashioned with a modern twist. I see an antique solid wooden four poster bed, the size and likes I’ve never seen before. The black posts are draped in deep red silk. It’s very erotic looking. There are wall-to-wall black panels, with gold dim up-lights, and a real wood fire with crackling embers and a solid limestone surround. Right before the fire is the most magnificent bathtub I have ever laid eyes on. A steaming full roll-top copper bath, big enough for two.
Okay, this is incredible, but who filled that bath. Is Sara still here? I look to Adrien with dubious eyes.
“It’s self-heating.” He reads my mind when he chooses to. “Bathe with me.” He darkly gazes as my chest flusters in panic.
Oh my. That is the most sensual scenario I could imagine. But hell, I’m losing it here. I’ve never been asked to do this before. Kicking off my shoes and getting into that tub ungracefully, could ruin this.
I hoist my brow in trepidation. This is what I’ve been waiting for, but it completely escaped my mind that I would have to get naked first.
He walks before the fire, and my god, slips off his shirt real slow. I knew it, he is a god. He’s so toned. Not bulky, but athletic. The contours of his physique limber and flow fluidly, and his pale skin is so easy on my vision. I’m standing here witnessing my very own personal phenomenon.
The flames cast an aura around his flawless body as he flicks open the button of his jeans. His eyes are continually aiming a commanding pull on me. He turns and removes his bottom half effortlessly, smooth as a hot knife to butter. Now he’s naked with his back to me, and the invisible noose around my neck is taut. I’m pulsating all over for him, but I’m freaking scared I might make a mess of this.
I can’t speak, move, or blink. My heart rate has never been so erratic, pounding and omitting beats. I’m so winded with lust and nerves right now, an oxygen mask couldn’t even help me.
He turns, and in all his carnal glory he waits. But I cannot do it.
“I want to see your body, Elizabeth.”
Shit Liz. You’re no innocent. Please, please, just take off your damn clothes. This divine sculpted being actually wants you.
He strolls to me, stealing my every breath so I’m barely able to respire at all. He touches my face, not my butt or chest, and stares so infinitely it arouses me like never before. His eyes. Fuck. He’s staring at me with big plans in mind. I close myself off for a second, my cheek nestling against his hand.
“Wake up Elizabeth. I want you to see me please you.”
I slowly open my eyes and my gasping voice whispers, “Oh-my-god.”
He grins wickedly. “Oh Elizabeth, I can be much more than your god.”
One by one, he unlocks the buttons on my white blouse and studies my torso. Out stretching his fingers, he strokes my cheek, slipping his hand down over my pulsating neck, collarbone, and then my breast. Like an expert, his hand creeps around my back and flicks open my bra. I tremble as he sweeps my blouse over my shoulders so it drops to the floor.
I cannot look. I’m shaking with my head angled back, breathless, feeling his lips scroll down to my chest. He pinches my erect nipple softly between his wet lips and pulls, before moving down to my naval. Dropping down to his knees, he tears down my panties and trousers with a touch of sexual aggression.
Shit, this is so fucked up. Fucked up and amazing.
His tongue slides out of his mouth and strokes my skin. Oh god. He’s teasing my opening. He’s making my body tic, caressing my sex softly with the tip of his tongue.
I can’t take anymore. I don’t care. I need him inside me.
I move away from his mouth then kick off my shoes eagerly, so I’m free of all clothing. He stands up with a critical hot look in his eyes.
“Elizabeth.” He swoops me up into his arms, taking me by surprise. “We have all night.” He nuzzles my nose, nibbling my lips faintly.
We move across the room and he lowers me down into the bathtub. The waters warm, but I don’t care about the feeling, where’s, how’s, or what’s. I’m in some sex bubble right now, and his hands on me are all I long for.
He climbs in-between my open thighs and sits, wrapping his legs around my body. Whoa, he’s clearly ready. He’s going to be using that mighty erection on me. I stare at his tip surfacing the water, biting my cheek hard.
“Elizabeth,” he says. “You are exquisite.” He lifts my leg and kisses my calf. “Unique.” He kisses behind my knee. “And I’m not letting you out of this room, until you have had your way with me.” He develops a fuck me grin, and I will, oh yes Mr Knight.
I hold the roll-top with white knuckles, my head back, panting. He moves onto his knees, his ample erection now at full capacity. He slinks his fingers around my waist and lifts me up onto his lap.
Dammit, I’m not going to last more than a minute here. Please Liz, hang on in there. This feeling has to last.
I whimper out as his erection penetrates me hard and deep. He’s inside me and it feels so good. This is natural, as though it’s meant to be. I have no fear or doubts now. I’m in my very own version of paradise.
I grip the top of the bath tighter as he cradles my butt cheeks and begins to manipulate me for his pleasure. The water waves and sploshes, creating a sensory slick delight as I rub hard against him. He grasps my wet hair, pulling it back harshly. I kiss his ear and move down to his wet neck. I nibble and use my teeth as he quickens my pace, back and forth, back and forth. I moan out in euphoria as he presses his forehead against mine to glower into me.
“No,” he grunts. “Biting.” He kisses me firm.
His tongue slips circular with mine as he buffs me harder and harder, over and over, grinding me deep against his hips. I want to let go. I need to release this ecstatic scream from the dark depths inside me.
JEEZ, THIS IS OFF THE SCALE!
“You feel ready, but you can wait.” His hoarse breathy words dominate me as I groan out for more. “I have waited a long time for this.”
He pulls out of me, leaving me in a state of total dissatisfaction, purring and gasping in chaos. I need him. He needs to be inside me making me feel his fire. I’m sizzling for his still hard erection, and I will die in this tub if he doesn’t reconnect.
I sigh and convulse as he steps out of the bath, his wet body dripping all over me. I can’t move. I’m too weak to fight and drag him back into the water. I bite the inside of my cheek in anger as he stoops over me, to vehemently lift my limp body out from the water.
“You want more.” He lies me on the bed and stands before my soaking legs.
“Yes... yes!” I claw the sheets that cling to my wet body.
He crawls slowly over my needy skin so his knees are amid mine. His eyes are precisely aimed, slight and extreme. His mouth opens, letting out a bottomless breath as he brushes his cool palm over my face.
He smiles darkly down at me. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he exhales. “You’re perfect for me.”
Wow-wow-wow. I have never in my whole twenty-one years, heard such celestial words. Words of art. Words of beauty.
I draw my legs up around his waist as he reconnects with me. He still has his hand on my face as he moves into me, gentle, long, then deep. I scour my fingertips up over his muscular back and his protruding shoulder blades, as he begins to fiercely stimulate me. I close my eyes briefly; the sheer rapture makes me shudder and my toes curl.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I open my eyelids to see his chiselled jaw pulsing. He pushes his brow firmly on mine as I pull his hair, violently. He thrusts deep in circular motions, taking me to the very edge of sanity, and I begin to climax. He’s so hard, and the pleasure and pain feels agonisingly good.
WHOA.
My body’s reeling, wet, and in complete ecstasy. I grab at his skin, scratching, moving my hips with him to make this sensation last.
He breathes out my name, scrunching his eyes, then comes with me. With an elated growl, he stops with a tremor and buries his head into my neck.
I’m bursting inside. I’m on a whole other planet. He’s whisked me to another dimension and I want to stay and do it again. And again. And again.
I rifle my fingers through his wild damp hair, smiling gleefully. He hoists his head, his golden eyes are tender and relaxed. His lips softly touch mine as he stares. This is a strange feeling. I’m so content and I feel remarkable, but there’s something else. A kind of warm tingle ablaze inside me.
He pulls out of me, rolls over, and swings his legs off the edge of the bed. I wrap the red silky sheet around me and fall back in tranquillity, as he retrieves his jeans from the floor. He turns to ogle me.
“Was that satisfactory, Miss Lovell.” He smiles cockily, as I thank the heavens above for letting this man be born.
“Hmm.” I grin, watching him pull up his zipper.
Holding his shirt he bends to kiss my head. “I have to go out.” Is he joking? I can’t tell. His face is as straight as a die. “Make yourself at home. There’s food and juice in the kitchen.”
He goes into his walk-in closet then comes out wearing a black hoodie, holding his sneakers. I watch in perplexity, wondering what the hell this is. He can’t spare one minute after we’ve just had one of the greatest sexual encounters of all-time.
“Where?” I sweep back my messy hair, sitting upright.
He sits on the edge of the bed, fastening his laces with a sideward glance. He sighs with a sweet but guilty expression, then turns his attention back to his sneakers.
“I have to go to the office.” He stands up, pulling some white earphones out from his pocket. “I won’t be long.” He kisses me quick and leaves me alone without another word.
Well, that was one hell of a brush-off. When a guy runs out like that, it’s usually due to a post one-night stand freak-out. I thought I did okay. Maybe I wasn’t up to scratch by his standards. Shit, he’s probably going over the whole thing right now, wondering if I’m worth a second shot.
Dazed, I lie down for a few minutes. But how can I relax now?
I get up with the sheet still cloaked around me and wander around his room. I stand before the fire, looking on the mantelpiece. There’s an antique German solid silver clock, and two chrome trinket boxes. I lift one of the lids and it opens out into different compartments. Cufflinks, at least two dozen pairs, and not cheap. I pull one out and study it. It’s platinum, with the initials A.K engraved in it. Very extravagant. I twirl the piece of jewellery between my thumb and finger.
Put it back Liz. You know you’ll drop and lose it. You’ve always been a klutz.
I mooch across the room, deciding to take a sneak peek in Mr Knight’s closet, and all I can say is, wow. I mean the guy must have a tie for every day of the year.
I pull down on the lowering rail. It wouldn’t surprise me, looking in this vast immaculate dressing room, that’s bigger than my bedroom, if he had specified dates stitched into each one. These are the three main colours that Mr Knight’s tie collection consist of: grey, silver, and pink. I don’t see the point. He could get rid of his tie fetish in one easy step, by just sticking with three ties.
I turn to the mirror and see his pressed suits hung in a strict order on the left wall. Jackets and waistcoats displayed high. Shirts in the middle. And pressed trousers below. All are designer and again all lean toward the three colour code inclination: blues, greys, and blacks. Then I see his more casual attire displayed in a separate organised shelving space. Pressed jeans, casual shirts, sneakers and boots. All of which are lined in an OCD manner.
I don’t get it. My wardrobe consists of around thirty items, including the peach bridesmaid gown that needs throwing out. Half the stuff in there I haven’t worn in years. I suppose I don’t need to make a statement the way he has to.
***
I FINISH FASTENING the last button on my shirt as I make my way into the kitchen. I open the fridge. There’s not much in there. Just a few cartons of fresh juice and a lonely stick of celery, which looks about as lost as me right now. I wonder where all the food is he told me to help myself to. If he’s referring to the celery, I’m afraid that looks a little too miserable to eat.
I go for the pineapple juice. I pull out the carton and hunt around the kitchen for a glass. I’m sure Adrien is the type to lose it if he knows his cartons have been contaminated with saliva. This place is spotless.
I can’t find a glass anywhere. Every cupboard I’ve looked in is bare. Even the one above the coffee maker is now empty. There isn’t even any plates, apart from the one on the dining table with the meal Adrien had made for me.
Fuck it. I quickly lift the carton up to my mouth.
The front door rattles and opens, making me jump. Crap. The juice has slipped out of my hand, onto the floor, and has splashed everywhere. It’s gone all over the squeaky-clean cupboards, and under the fridge. Oh god, it’s even splattered up the pristine white walls.
“Miss Lovell.” Great, it’s Sara, and she looks a little surprised to see me. She walks by the kitchen island, noticing the mess I’ve made.
“Sara.” I offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
She opens a cupboard underneath the kitchen island, takes out some kitchen roll in a huff, and tears off a big handful.
“Where’s Mr Knight?” she asks, dropping the paper onto the floor, using her heels to mop up the spillage.
“He said he had something to take care of... in the office.”
“Oh, for fuck sake!” She slams her handbag down on the worktop.
What’s her problem? Come to think of it, why is she here? Does she not have a home to go to? She’s tottering around in her lap dancing shoes, showing way too much leg. Is she actually after sleeping with my, Mr Knight?
“I suggest you leave. He’s always the same after he’s been laid,” she snaps.
“Excuse me!” I know it’s probably very obvious what went on in that bedroom, but still, her even thinking that has shocked me.
“You heard. It would be best if you go home.”
I’m not going anywhere. I was going to, because frankly he blew me off in the rudest way. But now she’s telling me to go, I refuse. All this stuff about him getting laid has got me interested.
So no Sara, Mr Knight has just blown my brains out in that bedroom, and he told me to make myself at home, so that’s what I’m going to do.
“What do you mean?” I ask, bravely.
She mumbles and delves into her white handbag. She takes out a bottle of that stupid green vitamin drink, and hands it to me.
“Let’s just say, Mr Knight has one hell of a thirst after he’s been laid,” she says like a true jealous bitch.
So, he’s a sex related alcoholic; is that what she’s implying?
She stares daggers at me as I try to pluck up the nerve to tell her to piss-off. But I can’t. She’s so sour and difficult to be around. All I manage to do to show my dislike, is slam the tonic down on the worktop. I lower my head, whip up my jacket, and charge toward the bedroom.
“Sara.” I hear Adrien’s voice and fireworks flare in my gut. “Elizabeth.”
He stops me in my tracks as he pulls down his hood. It’s clear he’s picked up on the thin atmosphere between Sara and me. His view darts from me onto her as though we’ve just been scratching each other’s eyes out.
“What are you doing here Sara?” he asks, taking out his earphones.
She scowls. “Are you okay, Mr Knight?”
“Of course I am.” He beams across at me. “So again, what are you doing here?”
She hums in a fluster. “I... I came to give you your schedule for the next few days.” She swiftly fumbles through her bag and takes out her iPad. “There have been a few changes. Mr Carmichael has altered the summit to tomorrow evening.” She holds a piece of paper out to him.
His face stiffens with a jaw clench. He blusters over to Sara and snatches the sheet of paper, and his pupils begin to read angrily.
“He’s an asshole. He’s gone behind my fuckin back. I told him after the holidays.” He slams the paper down. “And I told him we’re not using the damn Malmaison Hotel again. It’s not suitable.” His business side is very intimidating, and kind of sexy. “Never mind.” He sees me nervously waiting. “Sara, call Carmichael and give him my itinerary. That will piss him off. Oh, and have Dominic organise transport to collect Cornel from the airport. Not in a cab this time.”
“Yes sir.” Sara picks up her handbag and pauses to look at me. “Would you like me to drop Miss Lovell off at home?”
“No,” he snaps. “That’s my job.”
***
I SIT IN THE PASSENGER seat of the Land Rover, secretly stealing a glance every now and then. I’m tingling all over, playing out the entire evening in my head. But there’s this tiny niggling thought that’s getting to me. Why did he run out on me like that? I’ve been waiting for the right moment to bring it up, and now we’ve stopped at a red light, I have the chance.
“Did you manage to get what you needed done at the office?”
“Look, I’m sorry about that. It was ill-mannered of me, and I don’t want you to think it was a reflection of what we did.”
I inhale an extensive breath. “Was I... I mean did I...”
“Elizabeth, it was better than okay. Now please don’t spoil it by worrying.” He turns his awareness back to the road as I look out of the window, feeling all glorious.
He pulls up to the curb and puts on the handbrake. I fiddle with the strap of my handbag as he angles his body across to me. I presumed I’d be receiving a kiss, but he’s now rummaging in the back of the glovebox. He pulls out a brown paper bag.
“Here, these are for you.” He places the bag on my knee.
I purse my lips and take a look inside. There are six of those supplement drinks he loves so much in there. I nod with a puzzled frown.
“Just humour me. One a day, and you’ll feel fantastic.”
I scrunch up the top of the bag. “I already do.” I smile, biting my lip.
He runs his fingers under my hair, angles closer, and kisses me softly. “Goodbye for now, Elizabeth.”
I wave outside my apartment block, closing the car door. It’s a battle to stop the ear-to-ear smile that’s persistently displayed on my face. I’m so light and carefree, as though a huge weight has been taken off my shoulders. He checks his wing-mirror, and my Knight and his steed disappear from my sight.
I pick up the mail from the mailbox, and rummage through as I climb the stairs. There’s a package addressed to Cate, one of those mail-order hair catalogues she receives every month, and there’s a small envelope addressed to me.
I toss my bag on the phone unit, while flicking off my shoes. Releasing a sigh, I rip open the envelope. It’s from work and typed very professionally. Not at all something Harry would do. I begin to read:
Dear Miss Lovell
In regards to your position at Aroma.
All staff will continue in their roll when the shop has been refurbished. Your current pay level will increase after a period of eight weeks, if your dedication to the chain has been sufficient. New rotas and uniforms will be sent out in due course.
Exactly what do I think of that? This. I screw up the letter. Harry knows I won’t work for a chain like cost-a-fortune. It won’t be the same. But then this is my living, and I don’t have the luxury of choice right now. I begrudgingly un-crumple the paper. Just until I graduate, I tell myself.
***
IT’S NOW 3A.M. AND I can’t sleep. I’m wired and so tempted to call him. I take my phone from the bedside table. It tells me I have only four hours and thirty-five minutes before I have to get up for uni. I scroll down to his name and get a thrilling sensation inside my belly.
Is it too late to text, and just what do I say?
Hey Mr Sex god, I really can’t wait till next time.
God Liz, put it down. You’re being needy.
I turn over and curl up into my pillow when my room suddenly lights up. I spring over and see my phone flashing. I bounce and snatch it up. It’s a text from none other than my very own charming. I giggle, all rosy red like a naughty school girl, and open to read.
Elizabeth. I never send messages. I find them an immature form of communication. But as I sit here thinking of your bare beauty, I’m drawn to join the masses. See how you have affected me. So, I am free next Saturday night, and shall pick you up at 7p.m. on the dot.
Adrien
PS: Pack an overnight bag.
I read it again. I’ve never been so excited over a text message. Even if it was a bossy one, it’s got me in a tizzy. But can I allow him to be so presumptuous, assuming I can drop everything to go and spend the night with him, without questioning it? I am after all an independent woman. I do have my own life and friends to think of. I grin mischievously.
Mr Knight. Thank you for rudely waking me from my slumber, to inform me of your plans for next Saturday. But I shall have to check my diary and get back to u. I am a very busy girl, and have a lot of commitments xxx
I bite my cheek and press send.
Good god, I have basically just said, ‘screw you Mr Knight.’
My phone beeps again after a few tense minutes.
7p.m. on the dot Miss Lovell. You’ll be ready. Sleep well, Elizabeth.
I chuckle and put my phone down, before I send any more regrettable messages.