9. Nine

Nine

T he knock on the office door causes my heart to lurch in my chest. I freeze mid packing up, my eyes swinging to my watch. It's only four o'clock. It can't be him yet. He said half past. Seconds later the door opens and Lucy slides inside.

I breathe a sigh of relief and carry on shoving my phone into my bag.

"Have you got five?" she asks.

I pull a face and switch off my laptop. "Sorry, Luce, not really. I need to go."

Now. I need to get out of the hotel.

"Oh, okay." She sounds uncharacteristically down and is chewing the corner of her mouth, looking at the floor.

I immediately feel bad for brushing her off. "Has something happened?"

Her eyes lack their usual sparkle as she lifts them to mine. "No, not really. It's Mark."

I frown. She's not making any sense, but something's bothering her. "Is he okay? "

She huffs and folds her arms across her chest. "Oh, yeah. He's hunky-dory." There's a sarcastic edge to her voice, and she frowns in irritation.

I sling my handbag over my shoulder and walk over to her. "I haven't got time now, I need to go. But how about I call you tonight, and we'll have a chat?"

"Okay." She smiles weakly. "Have you decided whether you're going on that date with Mr Italian Stallion yet?"

"Yes, I have. And no, I'm not."

I hurry as fast as I can down the tree-lined driveway. I can see the white taxi I've ordered parked up on the road outside waiting for me. I gave specific instructions to the taxi company for the car not to come up the drive as it would attract too much attention and potentially jeopardise my escape plan. Art thinks he's in control, but he's not. I've taken it back.

The passenger window winds down as I approach the car and I dip my head and peer inside at the middle-aged driver.

"Sophie, is it?" he enquires cheerily, tweaking his grey plaid flat cap.

I'm about to reply when a thunderous noise tears through the silence of the countryside. I catch the alarmed look on the driver's face as the sound grows louder and louder and closer and closer.

"What the bloomin' hell's that?" he mumbles, glancing at his rear-view mirror.

My heart drops. The grey Aston Martin tears out of the driveway, the roar of the engine vibrating through my bones. It comes to a screeching halt in front of the cab, blocking its path. The driver's door swings open and Art leaps out, stalking towards us, leaving the car engine running.

I catch the worried look on the taxi driver's face as he takes in Art's size.

"It's okay," I assure him. "He's insane."

Art's brown eyes burn into me. "Maybe I am." He turns to the taxi driver. "It's okay, mate. She doesn't need a taxi anymore."

"Yes, I do," I snap, annoyed he's taking over again .

He lowers himself level with the driver's window and I hear him saying something to the driver, but I can't make it out. He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, slides a wad of notes out, and pushes them into the driver's hand.

"What are you doing?" I cry.

The driver's eyes light up as he shoves the notes into his coat pocket and grins. "See you, love," he calls cheerily. "Have a nice day." And with that, he pulls the taxi into reverse and drives off.

I stare aghast at the white car as it disappears round the corner. I can't walk home in these wedges and the nearest bus stop is a mile down the road. "You paid him off! I ordered that taxi. I'm going to phone that guy's boss. What if you were a nutter? He should be fucking sacked." I'm furious.

"People will do anything for money." He opens the passenger door of his car. "Please, get in."

I fold my arms and tilt my chin up in defiance. "No. I won't be controlled and told what to do by you."

His brows twitch in confusion as my words resonate with him. "I'm sorry if how I act comes across like that sometimes."

"Sometimes!" I flail my arm in the direction of the road. "You just paid the taxi driver to leave, so I've got no choice but to accept a lift from you. How is that not controlling me?"

"It's not. It's just…" He steps towards me looking perplexed. "I'd want to control you in bed, but I don't want to control you. That's very different. To do that would be to extinguish your character and although you drive me crazy with your stubbornness, like now, I wouldn't want you to change for the world."

And just like that, he's pulled the rug from beneath my feet again. He doesn't want to control me in the same way Theo did. He wants me for me. And I want him for him, not for his money or the niceties it brings. The parts of him that I've seen are to die for and I'm betting the parts that are hidden are just as exquisite, but the thought of getting naked with this guy pushes me to a whole new level of anxious .

I look at the open passenger door and hesitate. He's like no other man I've met before, and it makes me excited and anxious all at once. Going to dinner with him or going back to his place would lead to the inevitable, and I'm not ready for that amount of naked gorgeousness to be unleashed upon me yet.

Am I? "I'm not going to dinner with you."

"Okay," he agrees. I'm taken aback by the lack of challenge in his reply. "Please, Sophie, let me drive you home."

I sigh. "Okay."

He watches me for a few seconds as I make my way over to the car as if checking I'm not going to do a runner again, then walks round to the driver's side and climbs in.

No sooner have I closed the door than he puts the car in reverse, and we're moving.

"Put your seatbelt on," he orders, accelerating down the lane with speed. A cloud of dust hangs in the air behind us as I look at the wing mirror.

"Why are you so obsessed with seatbelts?" I huff sliding the belt around me and clicking it into place.

"Because they keep you safe."

I'm not sure whether he means they keep everyone safe or just me.

I clutch the edge of the leather seat as we round a bend and I glance over at the speedometer to find he's doing fifty.

"At the speed you're driving I'm glad I'm wearing it."

"You think I'm driving too fast."

"You are driving too fast," I cry.

He immediately takes his foot off the accelerator and I know I've hit home. "Sorry. I've always had a heavy right foot."

I'm grateful for the slower speed and loosen my grip, looking out of the passenger window. "How did you know I'd left work?"

"I saw you walking down the drive."

"So, you ran down three flights of stairs after me?" I ask the question because I can't quite believe it .

He doesn't reply, his eyes fix ahead on the road.

"How long did your friends stay?" I ask, unable to help myself.

"Not long. I didn't know they were coming."

Clearly, or you wouldn't have invited me up to your office and tried to kiss me, I think cynically.

I stare out of the window. "I don't think Tara's very keen on me."

He casts me a sideways glance and the edges of his lips curl in amusement. "I don't think you're very keen on her, either."

"She looked at me as though I was a piece of shit, what do you expect?" I snap, unable to contain my irritation.

"I'm not debating that. Tara's just..." He sighs and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. "She's not a woman's woman. She's more of a man's woman."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"You're never going to get on. You're too different."

He's right about that.

We head onto the dual carriageway back into the city. As he takes a left, I know immediately we're not headed in the right direction.

I frown. "This isn't the right way to my apartment."

"I know. It's the right way to my apartment."

"What? Why?" I shriek in surprise even though I know exactly why. "I told you to take me home."

"And I am taking you home. To my home."

"Shouldn't we at least go for dinner first?"

He swiftly changes gear and the car roars into life, gaining speed once more. "You said you didn't want to go to dinner."

"Yes, but that didn't mean I wanted to jump to the sex part," I cry. He's exasperating.

"Why not? Dinner's just a prelude to the main act." The corners of his lips twitch into a wicked smile. "And there's only one thing I'm hungry for. "

"Actually, now you come to mention it, I haven't eaten since lunchtime and I'm starving. Maybe we should go to dinner after all."

I'm purposefully being difficult and he knows it.

"The only thing you're going to be tasting on those lips of yours is me."

Fuck.

I turn my head and look out of the window so he can't see my cheeks flush. He's taking me to his lair, and I know I don't stand a chance. My mind whirs with the possibilities at what kinky set-up he's got going on. A sex dungeon with metal chains hanging from the walls. Whips and clamps and… Oh, God. Now the nerves well and truly kick in.

Eventually, we're in Mayfair parked outside a three-storey Georgian property with perfectly symmetrical white sash windows.

He cuts the engine. "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do." His fingers curl around the steering wheel and his brows draw into a frown. "If you don't want this, say the word. I'll take you home right now, but first I'll ask you to be honest with yourself about what you really want. Be true to yourself."

I stare up at the apartment block from the passenger window. I don't have to think about it. I want him, but my past is holding me back from having him, and if I allow that to happen, doesn't it mean that Theo is still controlling me after all this time? I can't allow it. I won't. He's totally different to Theo in every conceivable way and I need to keep reminding myself of that.

"Okay," I blurt before I can change my mind.

As soon as I say it, he leaps out of the car and swings the passenger door open and offers me his hand, interrupting my thoughts. I stare at it for a few seconds then place my hand in his. He pulls me to my feet and then immediately lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder, bumping the car door closed with his hip. I cry out in surprise as my face plants against his shoulder blades.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not taking any more chances in case you change your mind. No more running." He's determined not to let me escape from his clutches this time .

He hurries up the two stone steps in front of the entrance and pushes his way through a set of glass doors.

"Mr Black," a male voice says, and I briefly close my eyes, conscious of how bizarre this must look. I'm viewing the world from an upside-down distorted angle but notice the black and white diamond tiled floor beneath his feet as he crosses the foyer, then we're climbing upwards. A burgundy carpet lines the treads of the ornately carved staircase, and oak panels decorate the lower half of the wall. This is a beautiful building and there's definitely a sense of history to the place. From what I can see, anyway. As we reach the first landing, I lift my head and peer back down the staircase to see a grey-haired gentleman wearing a black suit and tie, sitting behind a large oak desk. He's peering at something or other on his desk and doesn't seem fazed in the slightest by Art climbing the staircase with a young woman over his shoulder. I can't help but wonder if this isn't the first time he's done it.

We climb on up another staircase and then round onto another landing before coming to a halt. I hear the sound of a key in a lock, and then we're moving forward. I can see a light oak parquet floor and I hear the clatter of keys being tossed onto a table, then I'm lowered. He keeps his strong arms wrapped around my waist as he slides me down the length of his body and our eyes lock. His eyes are dark with intent as he places me carefully on my feet. Nerves fire up all over my body at the look he's giving me. I don't have time to gather my senses as his soft lips brush against mine, and we kiss for the first time. As soon as our lips meet, I'm lost. I hear my handbag fall to the floor with a thud as I throw my arms around his neck and press myself against him, desperate to feel his body against mine. His tongue swipes across my bottom lip as if seeking access and I open my mouth, eager to taste him. A low moan escapes from his throat as he kisses me slow and languid. In contrast to his rush to get here, now he's got me where he wants me, he seems to be taking his time.

He's warm and firm and everything I dreamt he would be, and I never want him to stop kissing me and I never want him to let me go. His arms tighten their grip around me, keeping me close to him as he walks me backwards through a doorway, as if he doesn't want to break the kiss either. Then, after a few moments he pulls away abruptly and I instantly miss the feel of him. I open my eyes. We're in his bedroom. It's spacious with pale grey walls and white floor-length voile curtains obscuring the French windows behind me. I'm standing at the end of the biggest bed I've ever seen. It has a dark wooden slatted headboard and plain grey sheets. A deep blue velvet chaise longue sits along the wall facing the bed. The room is exquisitely finished and incredibly stylish, but I'm relieved to find there isn't a whip or chain in sight. Through the two doors in the room, I spy a walk-in wardrobe and en suite bathroom, not a sex dungeon. I hear the sound of curtains being opened behind me and golden rays of afternoon sunlight bounce off the parquet floor.

"I want to be able to see your beautiful body." His voice is deep and low at my right ear, and I close my eyes as his hard, warm torso presses against my back. I suppress a shiver at the feel of his erection digging into my buttocks. I've thrown caution to the wind and jumped off the precipice and I'm free-falling into the dark oblivion below, unsure of when and where I might land. And I don't care. All I can think of is how I want to feel his lips and his hands on me. Everywhere.

I relax against him, our bodies moulding together as he sweeps my hair over my right shoulder, exposing the bare flesh of my throat. He presses his lips against the curve of my neck, and I close my eyes, dropping my head to the right, inviting him to carry on. As if reading my mind, he plants a delicate line of kisses along the naked skin of my left shoulder, and I can't stop myself from moaning in delight. He's moving slowly, expertly, taking his time, savouring the moment.

He pulls my top up and over my head in one move. Then he slowly, teasingly glides his palms up the dip in my spine and unfastens the clasp of my black lace bra, tossing it to the floor. I'm naked from the waist up but don't have time to dwell on it as he cups a breast in each hand and gently kneads, sending pulses of delight shooting to my centre. He presses his cheek against mine and I feel a quiver between my thighs.

"You feel like silk. I knew you would." Then his hands leave my body and he moves away. My eyes snap open at the loss of contact as panic shoots through me.

"Don't stop. "

Even before I finish speaking his hands are on my waist, and he's turning me round to face him. I'm hit with a full-on view of his gorgeous face and I worry I'm dreaming and that I'm going to wake up any moment. This man has the face of a god, and he wants me. But it's more than that. As his carnal gaze roams over my naked breasts there's a mixture of adoration and awe in his eyes and it pushes the air from my lungs and heats my sensitive skin. He's looking at me as if I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and I feel like a goddess. In this moment, I'm the only woman in the world.

He lifts his eyes to mine and kneels in front of me. I breathe harder as he unfastens my trousers, curls his fingers around the waistband, and pulls them down to my ankles. He places his mouth on the top of my right thigh and leaves a trail of kisses all the way down to my knee. His touch is gentle and precise as if he's got all the time in the world and it sends my lust-addled brain into a frenzy. He picks up my right foot, pulls off my shoe, and tosses it over his shoulder, then does the same to my left foot. I step out of my trousers and he flings them to the side as he trails a line of kisses up my left thigh, but this time he doesn't stop. I bite my lip as he carries on planting kisses over the black lace on my hip then up over the dip of my stomach to my belly and I think I'm going to combust. His hands cup my buttocks, and he tilts his face upwards to look at me.

"I love you in black lace. But I love you even more out of it." He drags my knickers down my legs, and I step out of them as he eases them off my bare feet. He slowly rises to his feet, taking his time as he draws his gaze up my naked body. At first, I feel exposed and vulnerable, but as his eyes finally reach mine, those feelings are thwarted, and I feel like a goddess once more. I've never felt like this before. It's a feeling I could become addicted to. "You're a work of art." His tone is hushed. "Lie back on the bed."

I shift backwards onto the grey bed sheet as he crawls up the bed, positioning himself over me. He kisses me deeply and languidly and my fingers itch in desperation to touch him. I can't wait any longer. I push his top upwards over the roped muscles of his back and he takes my cue, reaching his right hand behind his head and pulling his shirt off in one move. Our lips break contact for a second, then his mouth is back on mine as he takes his time, kissing me expertly, slowly. My core throbs as I press my palms against his toned abs and hear a groan erupt from the back of his throat as he tenses beneath my hands. I glide them lower, against the curves and dips of his muscles, feeling the scatter of black hairs around his belly button tickle my fingertips. His body feels as if it has been carved from stone and I never want to stop touching him.

He cups my right breast and rolls the pink bud of my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I cry out in surprise. The slight pain is followed by an onslaught of pleasure as the blood rushes to my sore nipple and a moan escapes my lips.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers against my mouth and I close my eyes and prepare myself as he submits the left nipple to the same glorious assault.

"My beautiful Sophie."

Desire tugs deep in my stomach and in this moment I want to be his. His mouth begins working down my body. I glance down to watch him plant a hot heavy kiss on the sensitive skin between my breasts, then he moves a few inches lower, kissing my stomach, before pressing his lips to my belly button, his tongue dipping inside. My eyes snap closed as he scores a molten trail with his tongue from my navel all the way down across my pubic bone. My chest heaves as his lips brush against my clitoris and I gasp as my body flushes beneath his touch. I've never felt so turned on in all my life and I fear I might implode.

"You taste amazing." I feel his weight shifting off me and open my eyes. He stands at the foot of the bed and steps out of his chinos. I suck in a long breath as I admire his body. He's the perfect mix of muscular and lean, all wrapped up in dark good looks and taut golden skin. A long, thick erection is tenting the material of his black Calvin Kleins. I notice a silvery scar beneath his navel, about three inches long. Before I can ask any questions, he crawls back up the bed and lays the length of his delicious body against mine. My heartbeat rockets as I wait for his touch and I feel an ache between my legs at the anticipation of what he might do next. I briefly close my eyes. I've never ached for a man to touch me before. Or fuck me before. I don't know what he's doing to me. The thought unnerves me a little but I don't have opportunity to think about it as I feel the pillow dip and I open my eyes to be greeted by the sight of his chiselled face inches above mine. He adjusts his position slightly, propping his head on his left palm. His chocolate-brown eyes hold mine. Tendrils of hair have fallen across his brow and my heart squeezes at the pure beauty of this man. I'll never grow tired of looking at him.

He glides his free hand across my waist and over my stomach, moving lower. I hear my breathing deepen as his hand curls between my legs, sending a bolt of pleasure through my body and I moan at the feel of him against my most intimate spot.

"You're so responsive." He's studying my reaction closely as he touches me. "And it's so fucking hot."

His thumb begins lazy circular strokes around my swollen nub and my eyes flicker closed as I succumb to the glorious tightness ratcheting in between my legs.

"Are you on the pill?"

Pressure is fizzing at my core and smashing my concentration to pieces. I gulp down a lungful of air and try to focus. "Yes."

"Then I won't use a condom."

His response has me snapping my eyes open. "But that doesn't protect us against STIs and—" He pushes two long fingers deep inside me and my brain stops working. "I've always used a condom in the past."

I squirm with pleasure as my muscles tense around him.

He curls his fingers and I feel my body flush with warmth. "I'm clean, are you?"

I can hear the words, but I'm struggling to process the answer as he strokes the front wall of my vagina in just the right spot, knowing exactly what to do.

After a few seconds I regain some composure. "You're good at this," I pant.

"Very." His fingers increase their pressure on my sweet spot, and I grind my hips beneath his hand as the slickness builds between my legs. "Are you clean?" he repeats and I realise I haven't given him an answer.

"I've always been careful."

"So have I, but I want to feel every inch of you. "

And I want to feel every inch of him. I entwine my fingers through his soft, thick hair and kiss him deeply, pulling his face to mine. My muscles tighten around his fingers and my thighs begin to tremble as he carries on with steady strokes. I'm slightly unnerved because I've never felt intensity like this. My orgasm is approaching like a ten-tonne truck and I'm not sure what to expect.

"Art…" I gasp against his mouth but can't finish the sentence as a contraction knocks my focus.

"You're close." He knows. "Come."

I tear my hands from his hair and slam them down into the mattress as my body arches off the bed, my orgasm crashing through me like a wave. Every muscle in my body tenses and my limbs vibrate in the grip of the most intense climax I've ever experienced. My brain is mush as I dissolve into the sheets, wrung out, disorientated, and totally relaxed. He kisses me gently as I come back down to earth.

He brings a wet thumb up to my mouth, smearing it across my bottom lip, then licks it. I taste myself, the muskiness coating our lips and dancing on our tongues as he kisses me. He's filthy and I love it.

"You taste like honey," he murmurs against my mouth. "I'm going to taste every part of you. I'm going to touch every part of you. I'm going to worship every part of you."

And I'll let him. Right now, there's nothing that I want more than to give myself to him. His lips crash against mine as he kisses me hard for an age before pulling his mouth from mine.

"I need to fuck you."

God yes!

He shifts his weight over me and places a hand either side of my head, pressing his lips against the base of my throat. I close my eyes and succumb to the delicious feeling of his mouth on my body. "I could get lost in you."

What does that mean?

I don't get to ask as a buzzing noise sounds from the hall and I jump with a start.

He nuzzles his face against my neck. "Ignore it. "

I'm definitely not feeling as relaxed as I was a minute ago. "What's that noise?"

"The doorbell."

I'm no longer relaxed at all. "There's somebody at the door!" I cry, propping myself up on my elbows. The doorbell buzzes a second time confirming my fears. "You need to go and see who it is."

He looks up at me from beneath hooded eyes. "They'll go away if we ignore it."

The doorbell buzzes a third time.

"It doesn't sound as if they're going anywhere."

He glares in the direction of the hall, recognising defeat. "Fuck!"

He leaps off the bed, shrugs on his top and steps into his trousers. "I'll be back in two minutes," he says, fastening his fly as he backs out of the room.

He closes the door behind him, and I hear the front door open. I can hear his deep voice, then a higher-pitched, female voice. My ears instantly prick up and an annoying niggly feeling taps away at my brain. Who is she? And what's she here for? They're both talking in low tones, so I can't make out what's being said, but a few moments later I hear the front door close and the click of heels against the parquet hall floor. Whoever she is, he's not sent her away. He's invited her in!

I scrabble off the bed and hurry over to the bedroom door, carefully opening it a fraction. I peer through the gap just in time to see him disappearing down the hall, followed by a blonde woman wearing a familiar tight blue jumper and skin-tight blue jeans.

Tara!

What the fuck is she doing here? She saw him less than a couple of hours ago.

I watch her place a hand on his upper back as she follows him down the hall and disappears out of sight. Unease and anger entwine themselves in my gut as I process what the hell's happening. He's left me stark naked in his bed whilst he entertains another woman who clearly has the hots for him. And he knows I don't like her. He's making a fool out of me. Well, I'm not hanging round waiting for him. He's not going to get what he wants from me.

Bastard !

I angrily get dressed and quietly tiptoe out of the bedroom, retrieving my handbag from the floor. The mumble of low voices filters down the hallway and as far as I can tell they're down the other end of the apartment. I'm not waiting around to find out. I stealthily slip out onto the landing and close the door behind me as quietly as I can. I don't waste any time, dashing across the landing and down the three flights of stairs. I hurry past the concierge, giving him a sheepish smile and hope he doesn't recognise me standing the right way up. I exhale deeply as I step out into the glorious late afternoon sunshine and retrieve my phone from my bag. Better call an Uber.

I was just another notch in his bedpost after all, I think bitterly.

I tell myself I've had a close shave and keep on walking.