Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 (27 page)

A few ‘uh-huh’ and ‘okay’, prompted Irena to continue. Matt walked away, but I was unsure if he was out of hearing range.

“Their relationship went from professional to romantic early on. He seduced her, stating he was in love with her and wanted to ensure her happiness. She claimed the police stormed in, they were all grabbed and detained, but she hadn’t seen them until she was in the van being whisked off to the US and then to federal prison. While in the airplane, she was seated in the back with two men in suits, whom identified themselves as Federal officers, escorting her back to Boston to face criminal charges.”

“What does this mean?” I asked Irena.

I heard a shuffle of feet, and knew Matt remained in the hallway.

“There’s no record of either men being arrested in DR or extradited to the U.S. And you’ve already identified Eric was one of the men wearing a suit when exiting the plane, and Tony was dressed as a crew member. They all parted ways when they arrived in Boston without incident,” she added.

“I had my techs run photo recognition and we got a hit on Eric Pierce. And Perla, as we suspected, his name is not Eric,” she concluded.

“What did you determine?”

“His real name is Merrick Piers Darden. He comes from a prominent family, who own a private investigation company in the west coast called Piers Recovery, Investigative & Security Management. In the industry it’s known as PRISM. They’re a leader in innovative investigative practices and applications used by in the industry. They specialize in network security. The company has many divisions ranging from personal body guards to security for technology. They are one of the best in the world. He’s really good at keeping his face off the internet and social media, apparently scrubbing as much evidence about himself because it could affect his role in the company. However, I don’t know why he would take on this role, putting himself in center stage unless there was an investment. Can you think of any connection?”

“No. I cannot.” I answered honestly.

“I’ll keep digging. We’re working on finding Tony. But I’m hopeful these two men are no longer a threat to you.”

“Okay. Thanks for the update. Keep me posted as soon as you . . . figure out more.” I said, and we hung up.

I looked at the time on the wall clock. It was approaching eleven, and I still had to deal with Matt. Expecting punishment for seeing Brady, I’d hoped he would be lenient, but then again, I wanted to be disciplined.

*****

The lights were off in the bedroom. However, the city lights haloed his body as he stood by the window.

“Who was that?” He asked when I entered the room.

“Just some project stuff,”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“On Friday when we have our business lunch, I don’t want to mix business with pleasure,” I said presumptuously, kissing his chest.

I couldn’t help but touch him. He looked so inviting. I realized I was touching him with my ring-less hand. He moaned under my soft touch, and I felt satisfied, knowing I pleasured him.

“Are you ready to meet my parents tomorrow?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to meet the parents,” I retorted, thinking about the Parisi family, and how they embraced me as a daughter.

He didn’t respond, and I wondered if he was nervous too because he didn’t try to reassure me all would be fine. However, his hands stroked my back, pulling me toward his body, and I felt all of his hardness, strength, and need.

Matt held onto my hips and lowered to his knees. My heart migrated upwards, constricting my throat in anticipation of what he would do. He pulled my panties down until they fell to the floor, lifting my gown’s bottom. His head disappeared within the fabric. I felt and heard his nose take a whiff of my scent, and a moan reverberated on my mound. All of my body tingled. I didn’t want to move, savoring his act. Matt owned me, and I didn’t want to do anything to disappoint him and bring him to a stop.

A light lick of my pussy and my body quivered uncontrollably. I placed my fingertips on his shoulders for stability. His touch was enough to render me a spineless mass. As he widened my thighs for access, I couldn’t help but tilt my pelvis for more pleasure. He threw my leg over his shoulder as he held onto my buttocks with both hands. His greedy mouth tantalized me in a series of nips, suckles, tugs and licks. When I heard him grunt, I realized I gripped his skull with more pressure than intended, and I released the tension. I massaged his scalp and ran my fingers lightly in his growing hair. He moaned at my touch.

Pushing my leg off his shoulder, he turned me and pressed my front against the thick pane of glass, “Baby, what are you doing?”

He didn’t say a word, lifting my dress over my torso. My arms didn’t protest and instantly rose up over my head. My breasts pressed against the glass, feeling heavy and swollen. The coolness of the glass was surprising, given the summer heat. Matt parted my legs, stroking me from behind, and I felt slight fear. Images of us fucking in the office made me wince. I remembered the titillating danger of being caught. While I knew the odds of being seen were minimal, I feared someone, who looked upwards or outside of their window, could see my man take me from behind.

My breath caught when I felt him slick himself within my folds. I cried out when he entered me. The heat of my exhalation fogged the window, misting my view with each thrust. I retracted my face from the glass, looking out over the city while my man claimed me. My fingertips stabilized me as I arched back and rose up on my tiptoes to receive him deeper and harder. His breath on my shoulder tickled my senses, and I reclined my head back to feel him closer to my body.

“Do you like being fucked at the window?” he asked. I nodded and moaned something resembling ‘yes’. “For all in the city to see you?” He hissed.

I ignored his dirty statement. I didn’t want to feel shame or guilt. I wanted to be fucked like this, and I didn’t care as long as I had him with me. If this was my punishment, then I could take it—every time.

“Can you imagine someone seeing us like this?” He asked. I shook my head. “Picture someone across the street in one of those buildings with a high power lens or telescope.”

Matt pulled me hard into him. I cried out at his words and drive within me, scanning the view to find such a sight. His fingers rubbed my clit rhythmically with his thrusts.

“Do you think someone down there is looking up at the large row of windows and can see me bang you against the glass? Watching your tits bounce as I pound into you?” His words could elicit my orgasm more than his actions. A few hard drives made me cry from a sweet fullness in my folds. I felt the urge I felt the other night when he made me ‘gush’, as he called it.

“I’m sure she’s watching your face. Even from this distance, she can see all the changes in your expression. You should see how beautiful you look when you’re in the throes of passion. You’re even more beautiful when your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your pretty little mouth open just enough to stick my dick in,” he stuck his fingers in my mouth and I sucked him as vigorously as I would his long, thick cock. He groaned loudly, withdrew his fingers and pulled out from deep within.

“I want you to show her how a woman should suck a man’s dick,” he commanded.

Like I did almost two weeks ago, I lowered to my knees while looking up into his gleaming eyes. His lip curled into a smirk. He enjoyed the control and the degradation. At least he thought it was disgraceful to be obligated to suck him. One cannot be shamed if permission is granted to do such things. If he thought I was being submissive, he was wrong. I relished in the empowerment of being the only woman who could bring him pleasure. I took him in my hands: licking the crown of his cock; sucking lightly at the tip; and gripping him tight as I quickly fucked him with my mouth and hands.

Matt finger combed my scalp, gathering my long hair in his hands and twisting it into a thick rope. He wound it around his hand. He controlled my movements like a puppeteer. As I tried to move forward, he pulled me back. The pain was intense, but I was not deterred. I wanted to suck him dry. I pumped his shaft with both hands, suckling the tip as he held me still. He thrust deeper, holding himself inside my mouth longer. Each time I gurgled for him to give me breathing room, he would cry out and pull me back. I knew he was ready to give me his release, and I wanted him to cum.

When I felt his salty release in the back of my throat I coughed. I pulled away, spitting the excess fluids into my cupped hands. I had felt the nausea building at the taste of him. I stood up and ran to the bathroom to clean up, embarrassed for not swallowing as usual. I didn’t want him to be angry or disappointed.

“I’m sorry. I was out of control again,” he said. I shook my head and rinsed my mouth.

“No. It wasn’t that. It was just intense. I’m sorry for stopping,” I said.

His eyes widened, surprised I wouldn’t stop our play.

“It wasn’t too much?” he asked with a gleam in his eyes.

“I told you to do your worst, and I meant it,” I whispered.

Matt lifted me up into his body, and walked us to my bed. He opened up the curtain and let me in. The bed was made and the sheets smelled fresh. I was tired and wanted to crash, but his presence made me hyper and expectant. He didn’t enter the enclosure. I listened to hear what he was doing. I was hoping to hear the clink of metal or the whip of leather, but there was nothing. When he returned to the enclosure he was dressed in a t-shirt and lounging pants. I was puzzled, expecting him to give me my release.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going home,” he said.

“What?”

“I have an early day in the morning.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at Pentagon.”

“Why don’t you stay here?”

“It’s better if I go,” he ended, kissing my forehead.

A string of expletives went through my mind. One moment we were in ecstasy and the next moment he ran off. My insecurities hijacked my mind. I concluded, by not letting me have my release, Matt was punishing me. There was a time when he didn’t like my leaving his side, and now he didn’t plan to spend the night with me. I ached not having his body beside mine. I missed our early morning sex where I would top him and ride him until we both came hard. Matt’s discipline called for deprivation. As a result, I felt desperate to force a solution.

With the anticipation of meeting Matt’s parents, I spent the entire day frazzled and fearful of failing to rise up to Matt’s expectations. Everyone cleared out of my way because of my out of control hormones, intermittent sickness, and pressure to get back to a normal routine at Pentagon. By the time I looked up, Matt sauntered through my door to pick me up.

“It’s time to go. I told Josh he can have the evening off.” I didn’t feel comfortable dismissing him so early, but I couldn’t tell Matt why.

“I have to go home and change,” I warned.

“You look great,” He said.

Matt stopped when I glared at him. Even he could sense not to cross me on this day. After a harried change, we made our way North to meet his parents at a steak house. Matt thought it would be best to eat at a neutral place where no one felt any pressure to cater to anyone else, leaving the service up to the restaurant staff. We were first to arrive.

Matt reserved a quiet back room large enough for at least twelve people. It was quiet in spite of the bustling front dining room. Soft jazz music played over low lighting. It was very subdued. He set the mood to ensure a successful first meeting. When the waiter went to serve me wine, I abruptly stopped him by placing my hand over the glass and ordering juice. Matt looked at me oddly. I smiled curtly, and returned to look at the menu.

From behind us, I heard a bustle of movement. Matt rose up to greet his parents. With a silent prayer and a flip-flopping stomach, I also turned to greet them. I was stunned to see them in person. An attractive older couple, who looked very similar to the man I loved. A kind smile came from his father, Matthew. He extended his arms to embrace me in a hug. His mother, Leona Keene, stood in flats was my height while I wore heels. I understood where Matt obtained his height. She was beautiful, representing the quintessential Mediterranean women. Her dark, medium length hair was styled in loose waves. She smiled sweetly, but I felt it was forced.

Instead of a hug, Leona extended her hand to take mine. I could see the ravages of rheumatoid arthritis in her thickened joints. Dr. Keene, as she had me call her, told us all to sit. I instantly knew who ran the family, which gave me every indication of why Matt found me alluring in my control. We made small talk as they perused the special menu with our names stamped at the top: Dr. Matthew Keene and Dr. Leona Keene, and Dr. and Mrs. Mathias Keene. I knew he told them we were married, but seeing it in scripted gold lettering on linen bonded paper made it real. Focused on our gold emblazoned names caused me to ignore a question posed to me by Matt’s father. Matt prompted to focus.

“I’m sorry. I’m just hungry. I missed lunch today, working through so many issues at work.”

“Oh, what are you working on?” Matthew asked.

“Our design team has redesigned one of the towers on the Pentagram project. We are including an indoor-outdoor water park, and there’s some delay with those plans, so I may have to take a trip to California next week,”

“You didn’t tell me that?” Matt interjected.

“We haven’t had our Friday meeting,” I smiled at him, and turned back to Matthew. “The architects have proposed many designs, but they want me to check out some of their structures installed at California parks. We’re even talking about installing an outdoor park at Pentacles in Vegas. We’re hoping to expand the family tourist market because Vegas is becoming more family friendly for tourists.” I informed.

“I take your deep interest in promotion toward families as a sign you are family oriented,” Leona interjected.

“Yes, of course,” I looked at her with a sincere smile. I looked over at Matt and I could tell he was sending her non-verbal messages. “One of our biggest hopes is to have a family,” I looked to Matt for confirmation, and he nodded vigorously in agreement. “Our projects are designed to keep the family in mind, wanting them to experience things together, individually, or as a couple during a single family trip. We want the experience to be so memorable they return often, making it a tradition for their family. Right now, I’m working on our Cinq Hotel in Miami. We’re reviewing our marketing strategy to target families,” Matt rubbed above my knee, startling me. I smiled at him, “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No. It sounds like you’re highly passionate about what you’re doing.” Matthew added.

“I am. It’s the first time in years I can express my opinion, vision, and execute my plans. My teams have been really great. Pentagon is a great place to work,” I beamed.

“Well, you just don’t work there. You have so much control now that you have the stocks,” Leona argued.

“Mother, I’ve shared my stocks with my wife because she is more than capable of overseeing my percentage of ownership I’m too busy with my practice, so it makes perfect sense for her to vote in my best interest, and she’s done a remarkable job,” I covered his hand in mine, assuring I was fine.

“Mrs. Keene . . .”

“Dr. Keene,” she corrected.

“My apologies,” I said, and smiled. “I know how all this appears. I know as a mother I would be concerned about my son marrying someone I fear may hurt him, but . . .”

“Don’t you mean ‘when you become a mother’? Is there a child I don’t know about? This impromptu marriage would make sense if there were a child? Do you have children too?” She fired off in rapid succession.

“If you let us answer, we can tell you there are no children. Perla conjectured your concerns, placing herself in your shoes,” Matt defended.

I wanted to cry. It seemed like I couldn’t catch my breath.

“If you’ll excuse me” I said.

I stood up. Matt and Matthew stood respectfully, and I walked out of the room. Matt called out behind me. When he caught up to me, I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks.

“I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him. “I told you I have a lot going on, and I wanted to be in a better frame of mind before I met your parents. I know she doesn’t like me. I can feel it,” I sobbed. “But I will be fine. I don’t need her to love me,” I said unconvincingly. He pulled out his handkerchief, and I dabbed my eyes. My mascara ran lightly. “I have to get myself together,” I said, kissing him gently so as not to get more berry colored lipstick on his lips. “I love you,” I said.

Once inside the bathroom, I sobbed quietly. I needed to get my sadness and frustrations out. The pressure I felt from our conflicts were becoming too much for me to handle alone. It wasn’t time to reveal anything. The circle of people who knew my plan had to be small for fear of disrupting a perfect execution. I also didn’t resolve some of the missing pieces of the puzzle. I pulled myself together, taking time to fix my face. The redness in my eyes wouldn’t fade by the time I returned to the table. I took in deep breaths before entering the room. The men stood up, I loved seeing my man act in unison with his father. It was an indication Matt would always be gallant.

“I’m sorry. I hope we can order. I’m sure everyone is hungry,” I said without making eye contact.

Matt cleared his throat, and Leona began speaking. “Perla, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It is not my intention to treat you this way. I’m just concerned my son will have a second failed marriage because his impulsivity gets the best of him.”

“Mother, that doesn’t sound much like an apology when you redirect your disappointment at another person and assign fault.”

“Matt, surely, you can understand she’s just concerned,” I held his fisted hand, which rested on the table. “Dr. Keene, I fell in love with Matt because you two have raised a remarkable man. From his chivalry to his support of my career and goals, I’m extremely happy to share my life with him . . .”

“Then how do you explain the ‘love triangle’ with Brady Clay. Just this morning I saw pictures of you two dining with Margaret at a fancy restaurant in the city,” she informed.

I spent my entire day worrying about work, forgetting my troubles. I looked to Matt. He hadn’t mentioned it.

“Matt knew of the dinner. I didn’t withhold any information from him.” I answered.

“So you withhold other information from Mathias?” She interrupted.

“Brady was in my life as a little girl. He has a skewed sense of devotion to me. He claims to want me as his life partner, but I fear it’s his fantasy gone wild. I’ve never given him any indication I want to be with him. The pictures you have seen were taken without my consent and out of context. Even Maggie disapproves of any relationship between me and Brady.” I tried to reassure.

“Oh, really? Why would that be?” Her tone, condescending and illuminating, made it sound like I’m not worthy of Brady’s love and affection too. Matt called for the waiter.

“She feels he is best suited to remain the brother figure she wanted for him to be. Maggie took care of my mother as she was recovering from her first bout with cancer, and Brady took care of me like a big brother. When I told her I was with Matt, she was delighted for me.”

“I bet she was,” Leona said just loud enough and tinged with sarcasm before we were interrupted by the waiter.

Matt saved me from any more conversation, talking about his practice. When he finished, he transitioned to plans for our honeymoon, despite my not filing the license, which we hadn’t discussed. I smiled through his discourse, thinking he sounded hopeful and enthusiastic to have me visit Malaga, Spain where Leona’s family were from. Matthew was kinder, more open to conversation, and embraced me within the topics of conversation.

Leona looked at Matthew with an intense love. He was an attractive man, certainly intelligent, and nurturing. She looked at her son with admiration whenever he spoke of his practice or Pentagon. Only when he spoke of his hopes and dreams with me, did she change her tone and gestures.

“Matt says you’re very involved in charitable, medical causes.” I asked Leona, refusing to be deterred by her coldness.

“I help provide free medical treatment to teenaged mothers in Boston and in Miami. The girls need a good doctor to see them through various stages of their pregnancy. I’m usually supported by medical residents and other medical volunteers. Matthew does the pediatric care for the infants. He goes to local daycares to provide free services. It is a passion project for us.

“That is wonderful. My older sister had her first baby at sixteen and it was a struggle for her to get free to low cost medical assistance. She made her way through high school, community college and then finished her nursing degree three years ago. We’re really proud of her accomplishments despite the adversity.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t suffer the same fate,”

“Mother!” Matt fumed.

“It’s okay,” I soothed. “Dr. Keene is speaking statistically,” I stated with a smile, and put my hand on his shoulder. “I danced at the insistence of my mother. I danced everywhere and at any time. You can’t do a pirouette with a large belly,” the men laughed at the suggested mental image. “I didn’t have my first boyfriend until college, and I was sure he was the one. I married him. Because of very odd circumstances, our marriage failed. And now I’m lucky to be with Matt. I fully intend to start my family when our relationship is devoid of obstacles,” I concluded.

“Young lady, obstacles will always be thrown at a couple for the rest of their lives. It is how they handle them together that matters.”

“Agreed,” I lifted my water glass in a toast. “To relationships worth fighting for,” I said.

The men eagerly raised their glasses, clinking with us. I rose up off my seat to ensure to clink with Leona’s, looking her directly in the eyes.

*****

A weight lifted off of my shoulders as we drove to the mansion, but the Keenes followed us back to the house, which unnerved me. I would have preferred to return to Boston, but Matt was adamant. When we arrived at his home, he whisked me off to his bedroom. I kicked off my shoes; took off my dress, dropping it on the floor; and went to bed in my bra and panties. I snuggled into the comfortable sheets. The bed was the most cozy I’ve ever slept in. With sleep overtaking me, I recollected the occasions when this bed could have ignited on fire with our heated passion. Matt was always sexy and giving, but in this house, he far surpassed his talent for making me come. I felt his caresses on my back as he worked his fingers to remove the clasp of my bra.

“What are you doing?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“I want you,” he said breathily.

“Not tonight, babe. I’m tired.”

“I’m horny.”

“Your parents are here.”

“So, they’re in the other wing of the house.”

“I’m not having sex with you while you parents are in your house.”

“It’s our house, and I want you to get on top and fuck me,” he said.

“No.”

“Perla, you’ve never said ‘no’ to me. What the fuck is wrong?”

“Am I going to get to come?”

“What?”

“Since the night I came back, I’ve not been allowed an orgasm. Is that part of your punishment?” I asked.

“I told you each encounter between us would be worse.”

“Oh, they’re worse, alright. And tonight it’ll be worse for you because your mother is in this house, and I’m not doing shit to make her hate me more.”

“But we’re married,”