'For good?' I gasp, fighting against the flood of warmth in my core.
'Oh yes. Now, hold tight.'
I have just enough time to wrap my arms around his shoulders when he begins to thrust, drawing out to the hilt and pounding back into me, knocking the air out of my lungs.
I'm determined to get at least one thing my own way. 'If it's for good, you'd better tell me you love me. Mr Sun says you've got to.'
'He's not the boss of me.'
Again, he pulls back and rams inwards, setting my insides on fire. At this rate I'll be a brainless, groaning wreck within a minute. I'm going to have to work fast.
'No, I'm the boss of you.' I reach up and grab a handful of hair. 'Say it.'
'Well … ' His eyes sparkling, his fingers tightening around my thigh, he drives into me again. 'I love your skin.'
I let out a tiny, involuntary yelp of delight before gathering enough wits to battle on.
'That's not enough.'
'And your tight little cunt.'
'Filth.'
'And your tits.' With a grin, he drives again. 'I love every last bit of your body. I love tasting it. I love fucking it.'
'How romantic.'
'Not enough?'
'No.'
Digging his head into my neck, he picks up the pace, increasingly breathless, pushing out his next statements between thrusts.
'I love spanking your backside … I love making you come … I love fucking your arse.'
My muscles clench. I'm already teetering on the edge, and so is he. Putting a temporary stop on the list of things he loves about me, he tightens his grip again and pounds into me relentlessly.
'Fucking hell,' he rasps at last.
Sensing the moment, I let go, digging my fingers into his broad shoulders and groaning in pure ecstasy as I contract around him. A flood of warmth pulsates through my crotch, and I'm spent. I've had it. I'm done. In a state of pure bliss, I relax into his arms.
'I love that.' He slows the pace, wrestling his breath back under control and leaning his forehead against mine. 'I love the fact that we come together.'
At last, he withdraws, tucks away his cock and zips up his trousers. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he sets about cleaning me up.
'I love wiping my cum from you.'
I lean down, scooping up my combats and the latest pair of ruined knickers.
'I love the fact that you love all this stuff,' I inform him, pulling on the combats and stuffing the knickers into my pocket. 'But it's still not enough.'
'Okay,' he sighs. 'I love the fact that you leave the top off the toothpaste, that you can't cook to save your life, that you leave your clothes all over the bedroom floor. Still not enough?'
'No,' I smile.
He takes his phone from his pocket and taps in a contact.
'I love your eyes.' He raises the mobile to his ear. 'They're so green. What colour eyes do you think our kids are going to have?'
'Stop it.'
A muffled voice interrupts the conversation.
He replies. 'Dave. Fix the lift.'
Almost immediately, we begin to move. Depositing the phone back in his pocket, he folds his arms, leans against the opposite wall and studies me.
'So that's it?' I ask. The lift doors open at the twelfth floor. Mrs Kavanagh enters, stops in her tracks and backs out again. The doors close and we continue downwards.
'I love the fact that you're incredibly talented.'
'And?'
'I love your spirit.'
The doors open again. He shakes his head at a man. The doors close.
'Just fucking say it, Dan.'
'I love your potty mouth. You swear like a navvy.'
'Still not enough.'
He smiles and shakes his head.
'Okay. I love your intelligence, your wit, your sense of humour.'
This time, the lift continues uninterrupted. He watches as the numbers count down.
'I love the fact that you love me, in spite of everything I've done.' As if he's wafting away everything he's done, he waves a hand. 'And now I think about it, I love the idea of you being my wife.'
'I beg your pardon?'
'Yes, that's definitely the way ahead.'
'But … '
The lift judders to a halt. We're at the ground floor. The doors slide open. Before I know it, I'm tugged away from the wall and propelled out into the lobby while Dan stays put.
'Oh, and Maya!' he calls. 'One last thing!'
I stagger to a halt and turn, just as the doors begin to close.
'I love you.'
Chapter Seventeen
Fiddling with the dress, I rearrange it for the umpteenth time. Eight thousand eight hundred pounds' worth of black silk, very badly laced up at the back. But what am I supposed to do? Arriving home nearly half an hour late, Dan greeted me with a quick kiss, apologised and jumped straight into the shower, leaving me to struggle into the dress by myself, nearly dislocating both arms in the process. I stare at myself in the mirror. The low neckline reveals far too much of my cleavage, and the whole thing is threatening to come away at any minute. At least I've managed to tweak my hair into an up-do and apply the usual smattering of make-up. And then there's the Tiffany necklace, resting against my chest.
I don't hear the en-suite door open. He slips into view behind me, stunning in his black dinner jacket, his hair still a little damp, his bow tie undone. He curls his hands around my waist, drawing me in tight and I drink in his scent.
'You look amazing,' he murmurs against my neck.
'It's too loose,' I murmur back. 'I can't reach the laces.'
Releasing me, he steps back and inspects my handiwork.
'Mmm,' he muses. 'It does look like it's been done up by a two-year-old.'
He sets about tightening the bodice.
'Did you paint today?' he asks.
'A bit.'
In fact, in between my trip to Fosters and getting ready for the big night out, I managed another four hours, concentrating on the right hand panel, adding colour and depth and definition, choosing from a range of blues: Prussian, cerulean, cobalt. After Dan's admission, it was the obvious way to go. I spent the afternoon in the company of sheer pleasure.
'So, did you have a good day at work?' I ask casually.
'Fine.' He shrugs, re-threading a lace. 'The usual. Sealed a big deal with a Chinese billionaire. Fucked a beautiful woman in the lift.'
And told her you love her, I'd like to add. Those three little words have been hanging around in my brain all afternoon, teasing me and causing my stomach to trip over itself. And I want to hear them again. I can only hope he's forgotten the weird marriage proposal bit. No way am I ready for that.
'You love me then?' I venture.
'Looks like it.' Still focussed on the lacework, his blue eyes dance.
'Since when?'
'Oh, I don't know. Monday the twentieth of June. About two o'clock in the afternoon. There, that should do it.' He pats the dress and slides his arms back around my waist, smiling at me in the mirror while I process this new information. That was the first day I showed up at Fosters.
'Love at first sight?'
'If you like.'
I grin like a prize idiot.
'Say it again.'
He leans in, his mouth next to my ear. 'I love you,' he whispers. 'I'm in love. With you.'
I'm reeling again. It was one thing having those words fired at me from behind a closing lift door, but now he's standing behind me, his blue eyes flashing with delight, I'm in Wonderland. That's the second time I've heard those words from his disgustingly wonderful mouth. It makes my heart trip, and I'm pretty sure it always will.
'Aren't you supposed to … ' He straightens up. 'Say it back?'
I gather my senses. 'Oh that. Yes. I love you too.'
'So, we're in love?'
'Yup.'
'It's a nice feeling. I've never felt it before and I'll never feel it again. Not with anyone else. You're definitely the one.'
'I am?'
'Oh yes.'
'That's nice.'
'It is. In fact, I love you so much, I'd do anything for you.'
'Flash your cock at Mrs Kavanagh.'
'First thing Monday morning.' He grins. 'And you should do anything for me. It's only right.'
'Okay … '
He stares at me. Don't say it, I will him silently. Don't go there. Not yet. It's madness.
'Marry me.'
And oh, he's done it. Bugger. He hasn't forgotten the weird marriage proposal bit at all. I'd better knock this on the head, and quickly too.
'No.'
'Why not?'
'Because you're going too fast. Again.'
'Oh come on, Maya. It's the next logical step.'
'And it can wait.'
'Why?' he demands. 'I've done the small talk thing. I've done the big talk thing. I've given you stuff. I've told you I love you. What more do I have to do?'
Sort your shit out. That's what I'd really like to say. If you want me to face my demons, then you can face your own while we're at it. But this isn't the right moment to open up yet another can of worms. It's his birthday, we're off to a party and he's in a good mood. And I'm not about to ruin any of that. Instead, I go for an easy answer.
'Be patient and wait.'
He rolls his eyes.
'It's going to happen.' He smiles, one of his slow languid specials. 'I'll drag a yes out of you soon enough.'
'Try your best.'
'I will.' He gives me a mischievous grin. 'And now I've got a little present for you.' Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a little black box. It must be the same box he took delivery of this morning. My stomach lurches. Good God, no. Don't let that be an engagement ring.