To Eternity (17 page)

Chapter 23

Franklyn left his office door open, tossed his briefcase to the side of his desk, and yanked off his jacket. He gave his swollen cock a push as it strained against his trousers. All the way here, he'd envisaged screwing Evie until she drained him. She'd be here in five minutes. He moved a couple of folders off the desk before he strolled across to press the button on the coffee machine.

The door to the reception area swished open.

“Evie, cherub, in here,” he called, stripping off his tie. “I like the way you're always ten minutes early. Dependable. Shut the door.”

She came in, closed his office door, and turned. “Do you need me for something, sir?” Her smile spread as she looked up from under her lashes.

He fixed his gaze on her rounded breasts. Her nipples stood proud beneath her baby pink cashmere sweater. He smiled as he crossed the room to her and bent his head to whisper in her ear. Her heavy perfume wouldn't put him off. “I need to fuck you, Evie. I need it badly, and I am going to do it now.”

Her glossy lower lip shone as she licked at it with her tongue. She blinked her thick jet-black lashes, and sucked in a breath when he slid his arm around her waist. Her heels grazed the carpet as he edged her toward the desk. She gave a little moan when they got there.

“Are you ready for me, sweet cheeks?”

“Yes, please, sir. Now.”

He planted a palm in the middle of her back and pushed. Obediently, she bent forward, settling herself over the edge of the desk, offering the mounds of her ass that were outlined by the clinging fabric of her skirt.

His excitement shot up another notch as she gave an encouraging little jiggle. He shoved the material up so it rolled in a tube around her hips. The little underskirt with its pink ribbons went the same way, too, and he palmed his hands over her thighs, moving his fingers up to touch the appetizing pale skin above her stockings. A vicious throb pulsed in his cock. He rubbed her damp crotch and gave her clit a massage.

She liked it, making encouraging whimpers as she wriggled against his hand and squirmed like a snake.

Her silky underwear tore as he yanked at the sides to get it off fast. She gave an affected little squeal. She could forget that; he'd never liked screamers. He balled the scrap of satin in his palm and pulled at a thick hank of her hair until she lifted her head with a squeak. He shoved the cloth in her mouth. Her muffled oomph had his cock weeping for joy when she didn't spit the fabric out. He undid his trousers and snapped on a condom before he settled his cock at the entrance to her syrupy pussy. “I promise you're going to love this, cherub.”

He shoved forward hard inside her, using his hands to push the clingy sweater and her bra out of the way so he could grab handfuls of tit.

Her muted cries and heavy breaths, the way she answered each shove, added to the fun of thrusting in and out of her. He leaned down closer over the desk and buried himself in her. He clasped his fingers around the jiggling mounds of Evie's breasts. She bleated through the panties in her mouth. The noise grew at his increased pace as he humped her harder. Evie was easy to please. She came like a train.

The peak hit him fast. She thrust back at him. The muscles of her pussy contracted, clutching at his cock, tightening his balls. The pressure intensified until, with a yell, he spurted inside her.

He grunted, sawing in and out, prolonging the last seconds of pleasure. For three minutes, he found bliss, and then it was gone.

He pulled out.

Evie lay splayed over his desk breathing hard. He found detachment as he assessed all he could see of her body. The pale hummocks of her ass cheeks bore red patches, two round ruddy spots he'd made with the forceful slamming into her. Didn't matter.

He frowned at her pale ass. She'd a little unpleasant hair, too much for his liking. She could get rid of it today and book herself some time on a sun bed so she didn't look quite this slug-like. She wasn't a true blonde and definitely not a natural auburn.

The best cure for her was a Brazilian. “Don't move,” he said, hauling his trousers up. He fastened the waist button and yanked up the zip before he planted his palm in the middle of her back. “I like to admire my work.” She stayed splayed on the desk. He leaned heavy on the middle of her back as he bent to study her gaping pussy while she twitched like she loved it. “You can take a couple of hours out of the office this morning.” He dragged his wallet from his back pocket and set it on the desk beside her.

She tried to rise. He landed an open palm slap on her ass so she mewled like a cat against the ball of satin in her mouth. “Stay put and listen. You go to Darcy's on Blackthorn Street and get a Brazilian. You've time before lunch.” He ran his fingers between her ass cheeks. “I want all this soft and slick the next time I stroke it. I want it sweet. If you get it right, I just might be happy.”

Evie gave a shriek through the cloth in her mouth when he dipped his forefinger into her asshole. Her surprised squeal promised him all kinds of fun. He lifted his hand from her back and gave her another swat on the ass. “Up you get and off you trot, sweetie. You've no need for panties.” He held out his hand.

Grabbing his palm, she pulled herself up from the desk.

“Spit,” he said, offering her the bin as she took the balled up silk out of her mouth. “I'll have something much better to keep you quiet next time.” He ignored her wide eyes, took a fifty-pound note from his wallet, and shoved it in her hand “When you come back from Darcy's you can come in here to show me exactly what it is I've paid for. If I like what I see, I'll give you a real good workout.”

“Again, today?” she murmured. A light shone in her eyes when she smiled. She tugged to adjust her skirt. “You're wonderful, Franklyn.”

“Yes, cherub. Off you go.”

She sucked in a deep breath as she pulled her bra into place. Her chin quivered.

Right at that moment, he could have fucked her again. But his head clearing fast, he dismissed the notion. She didn't deserve more of him yet. “Go tell Jess she can cover for you while you pop out for something important.”

“Yes, Fr—sir.”

He held her gaze as she covered the satin bra with her sweater. “Don't you ever forget who's the boss here. Send Jess in here before you leave. I want a word with her.”

“Yes, sir.” She walked away across the office. He smiled to see her go because she stepped with a slight wobble to her paces, the walk of a woman with a well-fucked pussy, creamy in fact.

“Cherub?”

She turned to meet his gaze, her lower lip, not as glossy now, trembled still. “Yes.”

He smiled and a sense of all being well with the world swept through him. “You send Jess in here, and do tell her I've discovered she's been a very naughty girl.”

The baby blues flashed wide. “No!”

“Do as I've said.”

“You can't want her, too.”

He smiled. “Why not, cherub?”

“You— We—”

He gave a low laugh. “You mean I just fucked you? Yes, I did, and cherub, if you are a very lucky receptionist I will fuck you when you get back from Darcy's. Jess has nothing to do with you. Now, send her in here!”

Evie scuttled out the door.

The mood he'd woken in today had mellowed a little at Evie's compliance. She'd been salivating, certainly dribbling as he called her in here and whispered in her ear exactly what he wanted to give her. She should have said months ago what she needed. He'd have been happy to oblige. Jess, on the other hand, would be clearing her locker by midday.

The traitorous little bitch.

He settled behind his desk, flipped up the consul, and opened the damming e-mails he'd discovered last night. She'd ruined his whole evening, until he dwelt on how she would look when he told her she was fired.

“Evie said you wanted to see me, Franklyn.”

“Pour me a coffee and then I want an explanation.”

Jess moved to the coffee machine and poured. She'd paled a little, and his pleasure grew. She knew what she'd done.

He deliberately waited for another minute to tick by as she set the cup in front of him. She didn't meet his glance.

“I've discovered some e-mails you need to tell me about,” he said after taking a mouthful of coffee.

“I don't know what you mean. What e-mails?”

He swiveled the screen around, and when she bent, he grasped her shoulder and yanked her forward.

“Hey!”

“Look!” He tugged her until her face almost touched the screen. “Four e-mails to your ‘best friend in all the world.' Each one of them is full of information on our upcoming schedule!”

“So what?” Jess pulled back and pushed at his hand that gripped her shoulder. “Don't touch me!”

“Espionage is grounds for dismissal.”

“What the hell do you mean espionage? All I did was send a couple of mails wishing Sian well as she wasn't coming back.”

He dug his fingers deeper into her plump shoulder muscle. “You gave her everything the company is booked to do until the end of next year. I read the lot because you forgot to take off the copy to me, you silly bitch.” He gave her a shove. She screamed as she tumbled backward. A sickening scrunch sounded when she whacked her head on the arm of the chair on the other side of the desk.

She didn't get up.

Red stained the carpet, pooled in strands of her burgundy and pink streaked hair.

He picked up the phone and called the emergency services to report the accident. “No, not the police, we need an ambulance only. The incident is an office accident. My colleague tripped and hit her head on the chair. She is now unconscious and bleeding on the carpet.”

While he gave the address, he couldn't tear his gaze from the blood. Glossy at first, then dulling as it thickened on the charcoal colored carpet, the viscous liquid fascinated and lured him. He set the phone down, walked around the other side of the desk, bent, and wiped his finger into the pool. Cool, it coated his finger, and the metallic tang set his mouth watering. His brain screamed the importance of her blood.

He lifted his dripping finger to his lips and touched the tip of his tongue to the luscious deep red.

A powerful surge of need burned up from low in his belly.

Shaking with desire, he licked his finger.

An explosion of sensations tore through him.

Bliss.

Better than fucking. Better than Sian. Better than anything he'd ever tried in his life.

He dipped again and licked.

Ecstasy.

He wanted more and bent closer until he could lap at the edge of the rich puddle.

“Franklyn?”

At the sound of Richard's voice, he darted a glance to the closed door. Shaking with the lust for more of the delight, he took another sweep with his tongue. Despite the incredible lure of the taste, he dragged himself up off his knees and swiped at his lips with a handkerchief he pulled from his top pocket. “Richard, get in here. Something terrible has happened!”

The door swung open. “Oh, God. Have you called an ambulance?”

“Yes, get the first aid kit. We need to stop the bleeding.”

“Sure.” Richard turned to the filing cabinet and pulled out the first aid box from the top drawer. He bent beside Jess, tugged the green box open, and ripped open the biggest of the padded packs. “Here, try this. I'm not sure about pressure though, not on a head wound like that.”

Trembles ran through Franklyn as he held the pad to the wound. “She fell backward. I couldn't stop her falling.”

“It's okay. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes. It's not your fault. She's going to be all right. God, boss, you look white as a ghost.”

“Sorry. It's the blood.”

“Don't you faint. Here, I'll do it.” Richard reached for the cotton pad. “You go out to reception. Evie's not there. We'll need someone to meet the ambulance crew.”

He allowed Richard to take over and got up from his knees, breathing deeply at the exotic, tempting smell. “I'll go wait in reception.” He ripped his gaze from Jess's bloodied hair. Of all the weirdness of the last few weeks, nothing had been this crazy. A fragment of disgust flashed through him at the matted length of bloodstained hair, but the sheer, sensual pleasure from the taste squashed any regret.

A need had sparked, and he'd find a way, any way he could, to satisfy it again.

Chapter 24

Sian sat at the table, facing the empty white porcelain plate. She toyed with her fork. Impatience coursed through her in an unfamiliar way. She couldn't ever recall being this hungry. Her stomach growled but a deeper need gnawed inside her. Magnus had said lunch would be no more than ten minutes. She couldn't bring herself to shout “hurry up,” but she wished he would.

The discomfort from her thigh had lessened as the morning had progressed, and her recollections of last night grew ever stranger. The one thing she remembered clearly was his eyes, the wolf's compelling eyes. She inhaled deeply, and found the rich aroma of cooking meat. Saliva flooded her mouth. A trickle of dribble ran from the corner of her lips. She swiped at her chin with the back of her hand in case Magnus should see. The scent of the food overwhelmed her senses. Did he live with extreme responses like this all the time? She'd have to ask.

“Lunch.” Magnus carried in a tray with covered dishes that he set down on the table. He lifted off the covers so steam and an exquisite fragrance wafted up. “Venison, a little red wine sauce, and some vegetables. Shall I serve?”

“Please.” Trembles raced through her body, all of her snapping with tension. She watched each movement he made transferring the meat to her plate. Red, wine-red, blood-red, the venison filled her consciousness. Before Magnus had placed any vegetables on the plate, she lifted her knife and fork, cut a slice from the meat, and put it in her mouth.

“A little more?”

She nodded as she chewed. The savage delight of meat, of the hot juices running on her tongue, took her to a new level of bliss. Food had never tasted this good. Magnus added another escalope of venison to her plate and a few, very few, vegetables, then a little of the sauce.

“There is as much meat as you need. I want to make sure you don't stint yourself. The impact could be difficult if you do.”

Mouth full with another chunk of venison, she nodded. Stint herself? He must be joking. If he knew this feeling, he'd not worry. She'd gorge on the meat until she couldn't eat another sliver.

Magnus took his place opposite and poured her a tall glass of water, before he served himself.

She gnawed at another hunk of the mouth-watering meat, swallowed, and raised her glance to him. The intensity of her need was scary.

“I know. The desire will pass. Soon you will find it becomes manageable. This compulsion is part of the process your body is undergoing. You will experience changes in all manner of ways. Do you want to ask me anything?”

Chewing and swallowing, she shook her head. “Not now, once I've eaten.”

He smiled, and reaching out with his napkin, wiped her chin with the linen square. “Very well.”

She simply must eat the rest of the venison before she could think of anything else. Her concentration fixed, she cut through the rare, bloodied flesh. Her stomach growled as she put another piece in her mouth. Often when they dined, she and Magnus chatted, but not today. She could do nothing but focus on the meat.

The moment of sufficiency came when she'd eaten the last piece of venison on her plate. Her breathing rate dropped back to some kind of normal, and she looked to Magnus. “Thank you. That was delicious. The most wonderful meal I've ever eaten.”

“There will be more. Tell me, how do you feel?”

“Full.”

He laughed. “Other than that, how is your leg?”

“Doesn't hurt as much.” She struggled to find the words she wanted. “I feel alive, like I'm tingling with sensations. Smells especially are incredibly potent.”

He nodded. “You are developing rapidly. Tell me of any need you have and I will fulfill it.”

She lifted her glass and sipped. “I'd like to go outside, a walk or something. I feel like I need to be in the fresh air. I'd like to go to the woods.”

“I understand.” He set down his cutlery. “Shall I carry you upstairs and help you dress?”

“No, I think I can manage.”

“Very well. You go and dress. I'll clear things away. I'll be ready to go when you come down.”

She inched up from her seat, took a step, and when the wound didn't protest, took another. “Magnus,” she said as he began to clear the plates, “you mustn't spoil me.”

“Wrong. I can and shall spoil you to my heart's content. Go dress. I'd suggest not jeans or trousers. You don't want to chafe your thigh.”

She climbed the stairs, washed, and sorted through a drawer to find underwear and a pair of long over-the-knee socks. She donned them along with a natural-toned suede skirt with a T-shirt and sweater. After she'd bundled her hair up with a large clip, she put on a little makeup, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

Would she ever get used to this level of physical awareness?

Since her overactive senses responded to the touch of the clothes, the smell of her lipstick, she decided against her normal perfume spray. It could prove too much to handle. Ready, but for her boots that were downstairs, she made her way back down. Magnus came through from the kitchen as she stepped on the final tread of the stairs.

“I'll get your jacket and boots.” He fetched them for her, and after she sat, helped her on with both.

“Magnus, you can't keep this up. I can do things myself.”

“Yes, but for today, I insist you allow me look after you.”

She gave a little sigh. All his attention set her heart aflame. “This is crazy,” she whispered.

“Yes, I know. I can feel it, too. I want you to think about something for the rest of the day.”

“What?”

“The design for your amulet. The setting will be gold. Your stone will be the center piece, but in what kind of design?”

“Traditional, Magnus. I want something like your mother or her mother might have worn.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded and stood. “Yes, positive. Shall we go? I want to be outside.”

“Very well. I'll take the stone to the goldsmith tomorrow. Come, just a short walk. I don't want to over tire you today. You have a lot going on inside.”

“Yes, but I need some fresh air.”

He took her hand and they left the tower. They strolled out, down the path to the end of the garden and across to the squashy turf to the woods. The cutting chill of the breeze held the warning of frost, maybe snow. “Magnus, I can smell the countryside. All of it.” She squeezed his hand tight.

“Try to pick one scent and concentrate on it. You'll find it easier if you do it that way.”

She struggled to isolate one aroma in the complex amalgam, but finally chose one of the strongest in the interweaving blend. “I smell fox.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, perhaps you might find it if you follow the scent.”

“Like hunting?”

“Mmm.”

She angled her head, inhaling again. “This way.”

The pungent lure ran like a thin skein of silk through the air. His hand in hers, she led him down the slope to the edge of the woods. “Definitely inside the trees,” she said after a moment's pause. “Shall we go in?”

“Yes, as long as your leg feels up to it. Remember we have to return to the house and we've walked a distance already.”

“Just a little more.”

The trees offered protection from the wind's chilly bite, and the lure she followed grew stronger. Her steps, despite the heavy boots, were light. Magnus's smile offered approval and so much love. She paused in a little clearing with a low depression filled with leaf litter. “It's here somewhere.”

“Look and feel, see if you can search it out.”

The mix of aromas here threatened to swamp her, but she discovered the source and pointed to the hollow at the base of a large tree. “Inside. It's female.”

“Well done.”

“You knew?”

“Yes, but I wanted you to find it. You have. It's a vixen. I think you will prove to be a wonderful hunting partner.”

“Hunting?”

“Yes, we will hunt together.”

“Hmm. That means killing something, doesn't it?”

He squeezed her hand and moved to embrace her. “Yes. The concerns you have will not prevent you from following the nature of the wolf, but like me, you will hunt with purpose. I promise you, we will never kill indiscriminately.”

A sudden tiredness robbed her of strength. Everything seemed so complex, and all in ways she'd not imagined. “I think it's time to go back,” she whispered. “I'm exhausted.”

Magnus kissed her, his lips offering not much more than a soft caress. “I'm not surprised. You have done very well today. You need to rest. I'll make dinner this evening, but I think you should sleep for a while.” He linked her arm through his. “Can you manage the walk back to the house?”

“Yes.”

Arm in arm, they strolled the route they'd come until they reached the rise up to the house. Her leg ached, the discomfort growing with each step. She gave a little wincing cry at the next step up the slope, followed by another cry of surprise as Magnus swept her up into his arms.

“I know you are in pain. Let me help you. “

The lassitude those words always induced silenced her. She rested in his arms. Her appreciation of his strength grew as he carried her up the slope to the rise and along to the round tower house. Inside, he set her on the square-backed sofa, slowly took off her coat and boots, and as she settled down, curling up with one arm around a fat squishy cushion, he covered her with a warm woolen wrap.

“I'll light a fire and you sleep.”

She yawned as she closed her eyes. The pain in her thigh throbbed.

* * * *

The following day after she'd eaten a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs, Magnus left her to rest again, while he took the quartz crystal to the goldsmith. They should have the amulet back within two days, or so he'd said, and as long as she remained well, they would return to Darnwell then.

Well.
She had never felt this healthy in her life. Energy soared through her in great gusts, followed by sudden spells of fatigue. Magnus said they would lessen and she would become more balanced. She hoped so. One thing concerned her, and she wasn't certain what to do about it. Since the night he'd been the wolf, they'd not made love. True, her wound hadn't completely healed. The bruising remained, though not as dark as yesterday morning. Perhaps they should take things steady for a few days yet.

She lay on the sofa and watched the flames in the hearth. The smell of wood smoke held a comforting quality. She'd sleep until Magnus returned, and then they'd have meat for lunch. Closing her eyes, she smiled.