True Colours:The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2(30)

'Now touch yourself.'

'What?'

He raises an index finger. A warning not to speak.

'I said touch yourself. I'm going to watch you.' He pauses, his eyes  darkening. His own smile has disappeared now behind the mask. 'And  you're going to make yourself come.'

Oh, Lord above. He wants me to put on a show for him. And bugger it.  I've never done anything like this before. Glancing down at my dress, I  wonder if I should just make a run for it, but seeing as I've agreed to  put an end to the running, that really wouldn't be cricket.

'I'm off to Whitehall in an hour.' He checks his watch. 'A meeting with  the Housing Minister. So, if you wouldn't mind  … ' He waves at my crotch.

Closing my eyes, I reach down and begin, slowly circling my left index  finger over my clitoris. It doesn't take long for the warmth to spark  into life between my legs.

'Look at me, Maya.'

Obeying his instruction, I stare at him, noting the smile that plays  across his mouth as he watches me intently, sometimes focussing on the  movement of my finger, sometimes on my face. I'm a quivering wreck now,  breaths faltering, growing ever more shallow by the second, but I'm  determined to see this through. Summoning every last bit of willpower, I  carry on, circling slowly, and the warmth grows.

'Now this is beautiful,' he says quietly. 'Play with your nipples.'

It's fruitless to complain. Raising my free hand, I touch my left  nipple, running a finger across the areola, groaning at the sensations  that shimmer through me. And then I take the nipple between my thumb and  forefinger, working at it gently, elongating it, suddenly aware that  the warmth in my vagina has transformed into a full-on heat. There's a  ball of pressure right between my thighs, waiting to implode at any  minute. But through it all, I keep up the circling motion, keep my eyes  secured on his. Lips parted, he watches me closely as I take myself to  the hilt. Finally, after what seems like an age, I'm there. Without an  order, I squeeze my nipple, pushing myself over the edge. Muscles  contract. The ball of heat scatters through my flesh.         

     



 

'Oh God.' Closing my eyes, I groan as an orgasm ripples right through  me. And then I shake, judder, fold in on myself. I'm half way to  collapsing in a heap on the floor when I sense a movement. His arms  embrace me, propping me up.

'Nicely done,'

I open my eyes to find his face next to mine. And he's smiling proudly.

'You're an excellent executive toy. Much better than a stress ball.'

'Glad to hear it.'

A hand trails its way from the nape of my neck to my spine, and I'm on  fire again. Just fuck me now, I want to scream. Just do it. And I don't  care if I am on my period. Get your old fella out and crack on! I'm  slightly suspicious that he will when he moves back, takes off his  jacket and lays it on the floor.

'I thought you looked after your possessions,' I remark tartly.

'I do.' He points at the jacket. 'Down.'

Suddenly I get it. He's looking after me, making sure that I'm comfortable.

'I'm not your possession.'

'Just do as you're told.'

With a huff, I sink to my knees, watching as he unfastens his trousers,  eases down his pants and reveals his cock. And good God, he's aroused,  fully erect, ready to go. With one swift movement, he slides a hand  round to the back of my head, and grabs hold of his cock with the other.

'I'd love to blindfold you.' His eyes gleam. 'Maybe tie your hands  behind your back. But we haven't got time.' He rubs the end of his cock  against my lips. 'I seriously want to fuck your mouth, Miss Scotton. In  fact, that's what I'm going to do.' He pauses, smiles. 'And when I come,  you're going to swallow the whole lot.'

Still breathing heavily from my orgasm, I gaze up at him. My heart seems  to have launched into a quickstep, and I'd seriously like to inform the  big kahuna that I'm not entirely sure about the whole swallowing thing,  seeing as I've never done it before. But, as ever, he's far too quick.  As soon as I open my mouth to complain, it's filled by his cock.

Taking it half way into my mouth, I raise my right hand, grip the shaft  and begin to ease the skin slowly, backwards and forwards, looking up  throughout, watching for every reaction. Raising my left hand, I caress  his balls, amazed at how full and hard they are, and my tactics seem to  have the desired effect. He tips his head back, closing his eyes and  letting out a groan as he begins to sway, gently probing my mouth,  edging further each time until he's sliding his cock right to the back  of my throat. And then the hand tightens on my hair. I clamp my lips  around the shaft, sucking harder now. And the rhythm picks up.

Before long, his thrusts become urgent. Plunging all the way in, again  and again, he keeps it going while I take him completely. Breathing  through my nose, I massage his balls with greater force, waiting  nervously for the moment when I get my first proper taste of him. And  it's not long in coming. With a judder, he ejaculates into my mouth,  releasing a violent flood against the back of my throat. And in a moment  of panic, I swallow quickly, eager to avoid choking or gagging  …   pleasantly surprised to find that it tastes just fine. Still twitching  his way down from the orgasm, he withdraws his cock, leaving sperm to  dribble from the side of my mouth. With a grin, he wipes it away with a  forefinger, and treats himself to an amuse bouche.

'Salty.' He slaps his lips. 'Fancy a shower?' Unfastening his tie, he throws it onto the sofa.

'Now?'

'Why not?' He unbuttons his shirt and drops it to the floor.

'But what about your meeting?'

'What about it?'

'You're going to be creased.'

'You worry too much.' He shrugs off his shoes, removes his trousers, pants and socks. 'I've got a spare outfit. Chill out.'

Still on my knees, I gaze up at the man I love. Standing right in front  of me, in all his perfect, naked glory, he holds out a hand to me.

'Jesus,' I breathe. 'The first time I ever came into this office, I never thought I'd see you like this.'

I put my hand in his and he helps me to my feet.

'You're covered in spunk,' he remarks.

'You say the nicest things.'

'Stick around, kid. There's plenty more where that came from.'

Without another word, he leads me into the bathroom. Leaving me to stand  by the counter, he steps into the shower, turns it on and tests the  water for the right temperature. When he's finally satisfied, he motions  towards my crotch.

'You can take that thing out. I take it you've got more in your handbag?'         

     



 

'Yes, but  … '

'I told you we'd work around it, Maya. Just because you're on your  period, it doesn't mean I'm living like a monk. You might as well ask me  to stop breathing.'

'But  … '

He shakes his head, and I do as I'm told, silently mortified as he watches me pull out the tampon and drop it in the bin.

'This is  … '

Whatever I'd been about to say flies straight out of my head. It all  happens in a flash. I'm grabbed by an arm, dragged into the shower and  pushed back against the tiles. Sealing his lips around mine, he sweeps  his tongue into my mouth, launching into a furious kiss while he nudges  my legs apart, presses his cock against me, and moves inside. Taking his  time, he holds me firmly under the buttocks, sliding my body up against  the tiles and letting me fall back down into his grip. I clasp my hands  around his back, enjoying those now-familiar contours, the firmness of  his muscles, the smoothness of his skin. At last, when he finally breaks  the kiss, his eyes meet mine as he thrusts inwards, withdrawing to the  edge, over and over again. Running right across my spot, he's working me  up into another mindless fuddle.

'Feel it,' he murmurs, water streaming down his face. 'This thing between us  …  it makes everything different.'

I groan incoherently.

'I had no feelings for Claudine, not for any of those women.' His eyes  search mine for understanding. 'And what I did with them is in the  past.'





Chapter Fourteen


I'm sitting at the kitchen counter, downing the first tea of the morning when his text arrives.

I enjoyed last night. Missing you. Xxx

With a smile, I gaze at the screen, picking over the words. He's missing  me already, even though he only left for work half an hour ago. And the  man who could fuck us both to death actually enjoyed our first sex-free  evening together. The smile broadens into a full-on grin while I rake  back through the details of a fairly normal kind of evening. Dan coming  home late from his meeting, fuming that the Housing Minister was a  'bloody twat'. An hour spent lugging Harrods bags upstairs and storing  clothes away, him carefully folding and hanging, me stuffing anything  anywhere. A Chinese takeaway ordered in, a film, a cuddle and bed. A  mutual decision to simply fall asleep in each other's arms. Yes. A  fairly normal evening in the grand scheme of things: a much-needed  confirmation, in amongst all the sex and the madness, that we can live  together like fairly normal people.

I text him back.

Me too. We'll do more of that. X

As soon as I tap the send icon, I find myself staring at my handbag,  suddenly reminded of the bits of card stowed away in its depths. My  heart slumps and the smile slips from my face. Normal? Who the hell am I  trying to fool? Underneath the veneer of the perfect couple, we're  anything but normal. And we're anything but perfect too. Try as I might,  there are just too many things I can't understand  …  or ignore. I  haven't had the full story about Italy, he refuses point blank to  discuss his sexual history, and as for his sisters, they're just the  biggest puzzle of all. Pulling the new set of keys out of my handbag, I  hold them in my hand, knowing that there's something at the back of my  mind now, a half-formed notion seeded by Lucy's words: 'You could always  go and see her.'