The sound of a woman's voice
She was pleading, "Don't do this! Lucien Delano, don't do this to me!"
And then, raising her voice a trifle, she cried, shrilly,
'Delano, are you listening to me? I said you can't do this to me!!!'
I shrank back trying to hide as the man whom she was clinging to, replied coldly,
" I think you should leave before this becomes ugly."
He turned and the light from the room fell on his chiseled profile, carved in granite. The strong jaw that I had kissed so feverishly, the crooked nose, and the mouth now turned down in contempt and displeasure as he turned away from the woman who was standing, stock still, dressed in a beautiful sea-green gown that clung to her slender hips. I imagined that I could make out the deep cleft in his strong chin.
'Delano,' she said in a pleading tone, 'We are having such a beautiful relationship...why...???'
As she stepped forward, coming into the patches of light falling on the terrace from the room within, I recognized her with a gasp that I quickly stifled. She was a familiar actress; I had seen her on a web series where most of the time, she seemed to be running around half naked, screaming as zombies approached. Tall, willowy with strawberry blonde looks, she looked shaken now.
From where I stood, barely able to breathe, I drank in the figure of the man I could not take my eyes off, although every nerve in my body screamed at me for desiring him. For it was a desire I felt; a hunger, a longing, desperate in its intensity.
" Will, "he barked a trace of annoyance in his gravelly voice," Will! I think Ms. Grimm here wants to leave now. Escort her to her car."
I'd know that voice anywhere: Lucien Delano. My mysterious lover, who had made me aware of my body and its needs. But the indifferent, almost callous way he pushed the almost hysterical woman towards his bodyguard, made me stare in shock. She was practically grovelling now.
"No, Delano no!" she sobbed, almost slipping to her knees." I won't...you can't..."
The ubiquitous Will half hustled, half dragged the weeping woman away, as Lucien turned. I dimly remembered him as being one of the burly men who had accompanied us to the room above the dreaded fight club.
Even in the dim light falling from his room, he seemed to zero in on the fact that he wasn't alone. Or maybe he had known all along?
I stood there, too stunned to move, staring wide-eyed at him as he slowly swung around and fixed me with an icy, dangerous look though I had imagined myself to be hidden behind the plants.
I was paralyzed with shock as my chest heaved with a fear I had never known.
And something indescribable.
*
Lucien Delano limped towards me, slowly, taking his time. It was as though he knew I did not have the strength to flee.
Stopping only when he was so close that our bodies were almost touching, he stood silently, his eyes flicking over me. I inhaled the fragrance of his cologne, which was sharp and lemony and probably costing the earth.
'Little girl,' he said, his voice mocking,' What are you doing here? Don't you know this area is private?'
I looked up at him trembling with the awareness and a feeling that there was no way I could run away from him now.
Although he wasn't extremely tall, his broadness and the width of his powerfully muscled arms and shoulders made him seem to tower over me. Running my tongue over suddenly dry lips, I whispered,
'I... I was ...I mean, I ...lost my way...'
But he cut me off, bluntly,
'How long have you been standing here, little girl, 'he breathed, coming even closer now. Moving back, I felt the balustrade against my back.
All I could do was stare at him, speechless. My voice seemed to have disappeared. His pale gray-blue eyes glimmered as they took in my face, reading the turbulence in my heart, so to speak.
Raising a calloused hand, he stroked my cheek with the back of his wrist, a curiously arousing gesture; I stood, incapable of movement. Only the rapid rise and fall of my breasts indicated my extreme agitation.
Perhaps emboldened by my stillness, he moved even closer. Lucien had been one of the few people in the room who had not been turned out in a black tie yet the self-assured way he carried himself had made everyone gaze at him in awe. In some part of my lust-addled brain, I registered the fact that the buttons of his crisp white shirt had been undone almost to the center, revealing his muscular torso, and I resisted the urge to reach out and caress his hair-roughened chest.
Shaking my head, a gesture that only seemed to draw his attention to my masses of cinnamon hair that tumbled in waves down my back, I put my fists up, trying to create some illusion of resistance, tilting my head up pleadingly, to look into his flinty eyes:
'Please, Sir,' I whispered, 'Please don't."
"Little girl..." he growled softly, mocking me again, his thin lips twisting in a humorless smile as his icy grey-blue eyes burned into me, branding me. The way his eyes burned into me, I knew I was in trouble.
" Don't what? Do this?' He ran his thumb over my bottom lip roughly. I shuddered at the harsh caress which made my stomach muscles tighten involuntarily with longing... barely aware of it, I leaned closer.
"Or this?" he went on, dropping his hand to my breast, boldly caressing the tight nub that stood out. It was outlined, and was hard, demanding to be fondled. I moaned and tried to turn away from his freely roving hand, but he held my waist in a harsh grip, pulling me closer till I was flush against his muscled body. He was breathing heavily, as he stood, watching me.
"Or this?' he growled, swooping down to take my mouth in a punishing kiss, grinding his teeth against my soft lips as I twisted helplessly in his arms.
Suddenly, he stopped and growled, his tone rough with passion and triumph as his cold eyes gleamed,
'So you came searching for me, eh?" He rasped, breathing heavily, raising, his head, devouring me with his eyes.
I shook my head, needled. He was so sure of himself, so insufferably arrogant.
"No!!! If I'd known, I'd never have come..."
And then, as I remembered the sly way Jazz had lured me to the party, I raised my head and said breathlessly, eyes flashing with anger,
"You made Jazz pimp for you! You're despicable!'
***
"Jazz?", He frowned uncomprehendingly, and at that moment I knew that he had no idea who Jazz was.
As the enormity of the accusation I had leveled at him sank in, his eyes glittered in fury, and I made to move back, but he had me in a vice-like hold. When he spoke, his voice radiated a barely checked fury as he said in a low, menacing growl that left me quaking in fear,
'No one has ever accused me of needing a pimp to satisfy my urges, little vixen."
I swallowed fearfully though I met his flintlike gaze bravely as he went on,
"Watch what you say."
And before I could react, he lowered his head. Pinning me to the balustrade, his hands holding me captive, he ground his mouth on mine again, angrily, determined to hurt me. I put out my hands and ended up clinging to him.
When he finally raised his head, I stared at him, panting, my head spinning. I could feel his hardness pressing against my belly and the knowledge of what would happen after this if things weren't halted, made me push him away in desperation.
Some vestige of self-respect still remained within me, perhaps.
He watched me, the pale gray-blue eyes catching the dim light of the room within.
I didn't want to end up being his plaything, to be unceremoniously discarded like the unfortunate Ms. Grimm.
Stepping away from him, I steadied myself.
Breathing hard, pulling up the neck of my dress to sufficiently cover myself, I cried," I don't want to have anything to do with you!!!"
"It didn't look that way when you were practically begging me to f**k you, little girl,' he said in a soft growl, running his hands over my body, cupping my full ass cheeks, and squeezing gently even as I tried to push him away ineffectually.
The small smile on his face should have warned me, but I was too upset to notice. I could feel myself on the verge of arching into him.
"That night was a mistake," I spat defiantly, turning my head away, my breath coming in gasps. I pushed at his chest with all my might and goaded into hurting him, I tilted my head to look him in the eye as I added, impetuously, trying to bring loathing into my voice as I spat,
" Why would I want to even be NEAR an old man like you!"
The sudden flash of rage on his face told me I had gone too far. Even as I tried to move, he grabbed me, twisting my arm behind my back, and forcing me towards him. With his free hand, he jerked me into his arms and hauled me into the room I had noticed earlier, the one leading onto the balcony. Slamming the French windows shut, he stood for a while, his heavy shoulders lifting and falling as he fought to control his anger. I trembled in fear as I realized I had just invited his wrath with my careless words.
*
I was well and truly in his control again.
The room we had entered was obviously his den. A large room dominated by the desk set to the end of the room with a massive swiveling chair in deep brown leather behind it. Soft, comfortable-looking leather chairs faced the desk; small tables were scattered around, and the inevitable bar was stocked with bottles that twinkled in the light.
Again, the same dark brown hues were repeated in the room's color scheme, from the beige curtains that had been drawn to the beige carpet. A large, massive wooden table, carved intricately, with folders arranged neatly on the tabletop, stood within arm's reach from the walnut desk.
Paintings hung on the walls, abstract art that seemed to make no sense except to appear fashionably incoherent.
The lights in the room had been dimmed, giving off a soft golden hue; the pervading masculine odor of leather and alcohol hung heavily in the air.
A sense of wariness flooded me, and I turned to look at the face of the man who had dragged me inside. Delano stood, breathing heavily and glaring at me, stony-faced, his eyes glittering with controlled anger as he stood, watching me, while he was taking off his jacket.
Fighting down the feeling of helplessness and fear, I tried to step away and took two hesitant steps back. But he grabbed me, causing me to cry out as I was pressed against him.
Refusing to show my distress, I glared up at him, defiantly.
His icy blue eyes studied me coolly. Then he spoke,
'Old, eh? So tonight, you think I am old?'.
Menacingly, breathing hard, he repeated softly,
"Old? I'm 37 years old. I might seem old to you, my little girl but that doesn't reduce my sexual drive in any way, little one.'
' All the women I have f*cked have said that I am a great lover. And I am insatiable, little girl as I intend to show you.'
Lowering his head, he nuzzled my neck, biting gently on the sensitive point at the base of my throat and I shivered as a now familiar longing raced down my spine. My hands fluttered helplessly at my sides as I resisted the urge to draw him closer to me.*
Lowering his head, he nuzzled my neck, biting gently on the sensitive point at the base of my throat and I shivered as a now familiar longing raced down my spine. My hands fluttered helplessly at my sides as I resisted the urge to draw him closer to me.
Languidly, nipping at my throat, moving down to the tops of my firm breasts, he continued, almost conversationally,
'So, my little girl, you didn't feel any pleasure that night with me? I remember it quite differently.'
Here he exhaled loudly and raising his head, met my eyes. As for me, I was now what can only be described as a Hot Mess. Swollen lips parted in longing, and I ached for him to kiss me, possess me; anything to sate the raging fire he had started in me.
'We'll see about that." He whispered, biting my earlobe and I gasped as the meaning of what he was saying sank in.
"No," I cried, as he bent his silver head to my neck, biting me in the spot that had me rear my body towards his, helpless and lost.
'No,..', I whispered futilely as his big hands moved further down, pulling down the neck of my pretty pink gown, and nuzzling me.
He grunted as he lowered his head to my breasts, which had spilled out of confinement, sucking at the buds, then biting, alternately. My hands found their way to his big body, feverishly moving over his back, roving over him, pulling his head down, and willing him to make me his.
By now, I was almost sobbing in arousal, in excitement, when suddenly, abruptly, he stepped back, a look of satisfaction and lust on his craggy features.
The insolent way he let his eyes wander over me, made me flush, and I raised my hands to cover my near-nakedness in confusion.
Lucien captured my hands behind my back and forced me to look at him.
"Take it out," he said softly, grinding his member against me. '
And when I hesitated, my face turning hot with embarrassment,
"Do it!" he snarled.
A wave of shame coursed through me, but I was helpless. I unbuttoned his fly, taking out his powerful member, big, hard, and ready. The tip was oozing precum and I whimpered as I stroked him, unable to resist.
'Pleasure me." He growled, his eyes like slits.