TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy) (21 page)

I watch as his tongue
slides out between his teeth and how he rethinks his response. Instead he licks
his lips and winks. It’s more than I can stand. In a dithering mess I snap my
clutch shut and head toward the door, hoping to steady my trembling hands en
route. “Let’s go.”

He knows.

“Stop!”

I flinch and my
breath hitches. He takes my clutch from my hand and throws it onto the sofa. I
hear it land with a thud.

His breath caresses
my neck. “You won’t be needing that.”

I find my voice from
somewhere. “It has my camera in it. I want to take some …”

“ … No need. I will
paint you a picture with words.”

“But I …”

”Hush! Just do as
you're told, Beth. Two hands on the door and less of the fucking
back-chat," he says, lifting the hem of my dress until it settles around
my hips, exposing my lingerie.

Ayden …

With my hair up he
has free access to my neck and takes full advantage. The tension in my body is
palpable; it’s a kind of quivering helplessness.

He nuzzles beneath my
ear and, not wanting to lift my palms from the door, I arch into him. He
responds by lifting my dress higher and pulling me towards him, firmly, holding
on to my hips. I feel a rigid mass of muscle against my lower back and throw
back my head, visualising it unleashed and formidable against me, inside me. A
muffled moan leaves my mouth.

The lights dim to a
twilight glow with a single click of his fingers. He prepares to speak. “Last
night I lay awake listening to you breathe while I relived every fucking
moment. In my conscious state I undressed you and possessed you. I pleasured
myself while you slept.”

No!

His right hand skates
across my buttocks and slides between my legs. His fingers arch and fold to
assess the extent of my arousal.

“I hunger for your
touch, Beth. Like a starving man I have circled this earth in search of
sustenance and I have found it with you. I must have you now, or I will surely
die.”

His words resonate;
all I can hear is Ayden. He’s back from the dead.

My recollections
fade, and I’m back in the present with a jolt. His left hand snakes across my
body, ascends and comes to rest on my right breast. With impatient fingers he
eases back the fabric at my neckline and slips inside, stroking my collar bone
and gently squeezing my right breast. Anchored, front and rear, I can’t move.
All I can do is succumb to the sensation of being claimed.

His nose tickles my
neck and his tongue licks at my ear.

“Where did you learn
to do this?” I ask, feverish with need.

“I learned from the
best. All I had to do was look and listen.”

“To memories?”

“No, my darling. To
you.”

Me?

The burning sensation
I have come to crave is building. I’m tipping forward into his caress and
rocking into his hand; sparks are flaring around my groin and I’m moaning into
the space between my head and the door.

“Close your eyes,” he
instructs, his voice circling around us like a satellite. “Don’t be afraid.”

I do as he asks. “I’m
not.”

“Good girl,” he
reassures, the final vowel leaving his lips in a gust of hot air. “Open,” he
says.

I gasp. Now my hands
are pressed against the glass window, the view obscured by the steam exhaled
from my lungs.

“Tell me what you
see.”

While I try to
verbalise my thoughts he is lowering my panties with both hands, falling to his
knees. I feel the lacy material against my ankles.

“Lift.”

I step out of them,
right foot first, wobbling on my black Louboutins. How bizarre I must look
outstretched against this enormous window like a human kiss reaching for the
moon. To steady myself I take hold of the window frame with my right hand and
plant my heels down onto the wooden floor. I’m not going anywhere.

I feel his breath on
my neck a split second before he speaks. “Look closely. Can you see what I
see?” he asks quietly. “The world is laid out at your feet. Every flickering
light is an artificial star. This is the nearest you will ever get to my world.
I brought you here to share it with you.”

Superimposed on the
magnificent vista we stand together, reflected in the glass like gods. I watch
as he takes hold of my hands and separates them until we are united in a flying
position.

“Doesn’t this count
as a Titanic moment?”

I stare into the
glass, wide-eyed, unable to answer. All I can do is contain my emotions and
nod.

“The first of so many
for you and I.” He sniffs at my hair and pushes his nose into the sensitive
spot beneath my ear. “Welcome to my world, Beth.”

I close my eyes and
lean backwards into his rock-solid body. I feel his mouth curving into a
satisfied smile. He has me where he wants me; craving his touch like a drug.
It’s getting so I want -  no, I need - my daily fix of Ayden Stone.

He lowers my arms and
rotates me until we are face to face. His hands descend and he squeezes my buttocks
as if kneading dough. He begins to swerve his hips like a dancer, creating
pleats in my dress with his inflexible erection. This is a man on a mission to
get me hot and wet and ready.

Mission accomplished.

His two-handed grip
on me tightens and the friction against my groin is enough to start a fire. I
bury my hands in his hair and claim his mouth, thrusting my tongue between his
teeth and teasing him until our tongues are no more than a tangle of taste
buds.

In one frenzied
movement he tears open my dress like tissue paper from a present and strips it
from my shoulders. My bra is quick to follow. I stand before him naked,
panting, aching. As I reach out to remove his tie, he takes a step back, then
another until he is out of reach.

“Let me look at you,”
he says through fractured breaths. “You are beautiful.” Roughly he removes his
tie and rips off his shirt. “Take my hand so that I may claim your body and
your heart as mine.” He holds out his hand.

Without a second
thought I take hold of it and follow his lead into the bedroom. On entering I
gasp. Once again he has astounded me with his magic. The room is wall-to-wall
white with flowers and ruby red rose petals. The hypnotic blend of fragrances
from roses, lilies and orchids has my head in a whirl.

“It’s like the garden
of Eden,” I mutter, not really expecting him to hear.

“Then I will be your
Adam and you can be my Eve,” he says, pleasantly surprised by my observation.
“Lie down. I want to taste you.”

Oh my God!

Momentarily, he
stills as if trying to get a hold onto a flickering memory. All it takes is a
click of his fingers and there is music. The sultry tones of Lifehouse singing
Everything
only make me want him more. Having discovered the perfect background to our
lovemaking, he pins me to the mattress with a smile so devilishly sexy it has
me squirming; a lather of creamy wetness gathers between my legs. I raise my
head off the sheets to watch him undress as I have done so many times before.

My naked Adonis
closes the distance between us, places his hands on my knees and parts them.
“Tonight we will both give in to temptation,” he says, licking his lips. “And
there is nothing more tempting than you, my darling.” With his hips he nudges
my knees further apart and covers my body with his.

My face fits into a
single hand; his thumb grasps my chin while his left hand covers my breast,
preparing a hardening nipple for his mouth. His descent is leisurely and
agonising; I’m arching my back to hurry him along, but he will not be rushed.

My patience is rewarded.
He takes hold of my right hand and sucks on my fingers, pushing them in and
out, simulating our sexual coupling. I begin to moan more out of need than
desire. His free right hand circles my pubic bone, splaying out so his thumb
can follow the natural curve of my body. His thumb rests on my clitoris and
stimulates it with gentle brush strokes, flicking it just enough to have me
opening my mouth to make rapturous sounds that no one but my husband should
ever hear.

“This is all I think
about, Beth, being inside you like this.” He takes hold of my knees and bends
my legs until my feet are resting on the bed. Instinctively I move my hands to
cover myself, but pause at the sight of black curls tumbling and coming to rest
between my legs. Holding me in place, he enters me with shallow thrusts and
swirls that make my body convulse. With anticipation building I fist his hair,
writhing to the rhythm of Al Green’s sweet rendition of
Simply Beautiful.

“You’re so wet,” he
moans.

Shifting position he
raises me off the bed until I am forced to rest my thighs on his broad
shoulders, held in place by his firm hands. He growls against my sex and the
vibrations off his lips send an electric shock through my body. Using only the
tip of his tongue he takes me to the point of no return and I lose myself in
the ecstatic haze of an orgasm. It’s a toe-curling, sheet- ripping sensation
that has me calling out like a woman possessed.

“Ah, Ay-den!”

Before I can catch my
breath he is over me. “I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he says, taking hold
of my wrists and positioning my hands either side of my head. “I want to bury
myself inside you,” he growls.

My pulse remains
unnaturally fast, making me pant and shiver at the prospect of being held down
and taken forcefully. My fantasy lover meets my post orgasmic gaze and I
witness the depth of his desire. I see the grey vastness of the cosmos in his
eyes and, for fear of falling into it, I close mine.

“Don’t look away,” he
commands.

But I must. My body
yearns for his touch but my rational mind still refuses to accept him as my
beloved.

“Tell me you don’t
want me, Beth,” he implores. “Tell me …” In one languid movement he slides into
me. “This is my home Beth; remember? You belong to me. Say it.” The rocking, in
and out movement has me lifting off the bed; I’m trying to free my hands but I
cannot. He’s gyrating his hips and leaning, fucking me with his cock and his
tongue and it’s all I can do to stop my heart from exploding.

He tightens his grip
on my wrists and picks up the pace, groaning with each penetrating thrust. I
watch his expression changing, becoming darker; a seductive smile is replaced
by a hard unyielding stare. I screw my eyes shut and allow my body to ride the
wave of passion dragging me down, deeper. That endless sea begins to swallow me
up …

“Beth … Beth ...”

Hearing my name
whispered so softly, I open my eyes. What I see causes my inside to clinch and
tighten. Gone are the grey tints of the universe I have come to expect; instead
I’m looking up and into a midnight sky sprinkled with flecks of starlight.

“Ayden,” I whisper,
letting go, not wanting to look away. “Stay with me.” I begin to grind my body
against his until our movements are synchronised.

Knowing I’m close he
coaxes me with his words and a smile. “Come on Beth, let me hear you.”

His wish is my
command.

With the promise of
his return I come loudly, panting and screaming my way through an orgasm that
brings me close to unconsciousness. My internal clenching grips him with the
force of an unyielding fist and triggers his climax. He flattens his body
against mine and grunts into my neck like an animal caught in a trap.
Gradually, he settles.

Once he releases my
wrists I wrap my arms around him and calm him with soft words while salty tears
sting my eyes. Breaking the bond, he raises himself and rolls to the side. His
head rests on his right palm. I stare at the ceiling too afraid to face him for
fear of coming face to face with this great pretender once again.

“You were on fire,
Beth,” he says, removing a few strands of hair from my cheek. “I’ve not
experienced that level of intensity before.”

I feel my heart
sinking but turn to face him, remembering to scatter my thoughts into a
thousand pieces. Only one remains …

Ayden is alive.

***

Troubled by vivid
dreams Mack climbs out of his crumpled bed at 4 a.m. The previous day’s
findings have added fuel to his already raging bonfire of determination. His
lounge carpet has become an expanse of white. The four files he has collated
are assembled like ice packs; as the bonfire burns, so they begin to melt and
merge. They have yet to meld but Mack reassures himself that it’s only a matter
of time until they do.

Laced with whiskey,
his thoughts wander. What he needs is a time machine to take him back twenty
years or more; to that time when three young children meant everything to each
other. He reaches for the faded photograph he removed from Elise’s apartment
and takes a lingering look, wondering what brought them together. He returns it
to her file and spots the SD card. Now seems as good a time as any to see
what’s on it.