Destroy Me (18 page)

Flipping her over quickly onto her stomach, he pushed her thighs wide apart and entered her instantly, his cock so hard that he knew he would not last long. The frenzy of her cunt on his face, the scent it, had driven him insane and he needed to come urgently, needed to pound her hard and fill her with his come.

Her body drove him to the edge of his resistance, he couldn’t hold back with her, he needed her like the sweetest of drugs, like his body became whole again once inside her.

Pulling out of her quickly he turned her over. He needed to see her eyes, needed to see their desire for him, needed them to feed him as he buried himself inside of her.

He drove into her with long strokes, his hands gripping her arms, pinning them above her head, throwing back his head as he exploded inside of her, his eyes like a stormy green sea as she joined him in climax, her legs wrapped around his waist.

He took her again shortly after, lifting her up onto his cock, pressing her down on it to ride him, and as her breasts swayed he brought them to his mouth, sucking a nipple as she rocked against his cock, loosing herself in her rhythm as he reached for her hair, gripping the length of it in his fist possessively as he felt her come on his cock, her thighs locked in tension until she collapsed down onto him, her legs weak and shaking from the waves of pleasure that had rolled through her body from his cock inside of her.

Lifting her gently off him he lay her on her side, lifted her leg and rammed his cock inside her from behind, filling her instantly as he pounded into her without gentleness, the animal in him driving him on, seeking only release again through her beautiful body.

She felt like an addiction to him, of the most illicit kind, the curves of her body, her warmth, and her total abandon to him.

“I’m not letting you go Tara. I can’t,” she heard him say, his mouth so close to her ear.

Moving around to climb on top of her, he thrust into her again, deep and full thrusts, each time taking her closer to orgasm once again, his ability to make her come multiple times astonishing her, binding her to him in a dangerous way, knowing she would never find this again.

Eventually, they had no more left to give each other, and they fell asleep, Tara curled up against him as he held her in his arms.

Chapter Twenty Five

She woke suddenly and realised the bed was empty. It was not yet light and she wondered where he was. The light of the bathroom was off and he was not in there. There was no-where else for him to be in the small hotel room. She sat up. She looked on the floor and his clothes were gone.

He had left her in the middle of the night.

She put the bedside light on, confused at first, and then realised that this was what he always did. He never stayed with her. Why would tonight have been any different?

Her hand went to the Tiffany necklace around her throat, holding onto the pendant.

He would never have contacted her, had the police not become involved. Were it not for the terrible circumstances, she would still be in London now, alone. Once the situation they found themselves in had been resolved, he would return her to London again, in the blink of an eye, just as easily as before; disposing of her once more.

She had resolved on her trip over here, not to let him hurt her again, and here she was, falling for him all over again, letting him do whatever he wanted to her, encouraging him to hurt her. She needed to stop. She had to be as cold as him. She wished she had it in her.

She lay back down. There was nothing she could do about it at that moment.

She drifted back to sleep, her body exhausted and aching from making love so excessively with Damien.

She felt a hand on her face, and jumped in alarm. Opening her eyes, she saw Damien staring down at her, sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed.

“God, you frightened me!”
She had no idea what the time was but the sun was bright through the curtains.

“Good morning Sleepyhead. You’re body clock is probably all over the place.”

He was smiling, oblivious to her thoughts.

“I have to get to work for an early meeting. Come to the office when you’re ready my love.”

Sitting up she stared at him.

“You left last night.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I told you. I don’t work for you.”

“I thought we discussed this.”
“We didn’t discuss anything. You simply told me.”

“I will see you there as soon as possible.”

He bent and kissed her cheek.

As he turned to leave, oblivious to her annoyance at his nonchalant behaviour, she saw her shoes lying bedside the bed. Reaching down she grabbed one and hurled it at his head, narrowly missing him. She threw the other one for good measure, the heel hitting him squarely between the shoulders as she let out a scream of frustration.

He merely laughed, picked the shoes up off the floor where they had landed and took them with him.

Closing the door of the hotel room he laughed out loud. God she was wild. He loved that about her.

He felt a little guilty that he had left her alone last night. He had driven back to his flat, changed and gone for a jog. Shattered and exhausted though he had been from their frenzied love making, his head had begun to pound as he had woken up in the darkness with her. He had needed to get out. He had dreamt of an old friend he had not been able to reach in time, had watched helplessly as his friend was gunned down in cold blood metres away from him by an enemy combatant, Damien unable to reach him, too busy fighting others firing straight at him from all directions, pinned down under a savage attack. He’d had to leave.

Tara stormed into the shower. She took her time, trying to calm down and stop the anger running through her, tried to stop thinking about the insensitivity and sheer arrogance of the man.

She ran rang room service and ordered breakfast. She was starving.

Waiting for it to come, she combed her wet hair and watched the breakfast news, suddenly wondering if the disappearance of Marc Chambers would be in the newspapers. She would pick one up when she went out.

She needed to buy some clothes; she had brought very little and now it seemed she would be staying here for a while.
She would also need to let Joseph know; he was going to find it peculiar that she had just left without telling him, and she wondered if it might be better for Damien to tell him.

There was a knock on the door and she opened it to see a member of the hotel bringing up her breakfast.

As she sat eating it she watched the news headlines, but to her relief there was no mention of Chambers. She had to admit she was finding the whole thing almost surreal, as though none of it could really be happening. She wanted to pretend it was not real. She wished the threat would disappear, because when Damien wasn’t with her, she felt scared.

After breakfast she dressed quickly, picked up her handbag and left the room.
Downstairs she booked another night at reception.

She headed down the sidewalk to the subway station, intending to go shopping for some clothes and toiletries. She would be spending Damien’s money but she had no choice, she had not been paid by Joseph yet.

Grabbing a newspaper by the entrance to the subway, she scanned it as she rode the metro.

Her heart started beating fast when she saw a small headline a couple of pages inside the newspaper, mentioning Chambers’ disappearance. Though nothing written pointed to Damien, it made the situation feel very real to her in that moment. She closed the newspaper and placed it on the seat beside her, wishing it to go away. Reaching for her iPod she turned some music on to take her thoughts away.

Reaching the plaza with the shops she wanted to visit, she buried her thoughts and focussed on picking up some items of clothing she knew she would need; some dresses, jeans, tops, a jacket, and some lingerie.

She realised Damien had walked off with her favourite shoes after she had thrown them at him. She hoped he hadn’t thrown them in a trash can somewhere.  She picked up another couple of pairs of shoes. Carrying all of her bags, she found a coffee shop to have a much needed coffee before heading to Damien’s office.  She knew he was expecting her there and
that if she didn’t show he would only come for her back at her hotel. But if he thought she was going to buckle down and get to work, he had another think coming.

It was just after two when she exited the elevator on the top floor of the building which housed his office. Looking around the room as she entered, seeing a roomful of men, she felt shy and self-conscious again. She recognised a couple of them from the time they had been at Damien’s house, guarding her.

She heard Damien’s voice suddenly from across the room, where he stood talking to Brenton.

“Tara. Go to my office please.”

Immaculately dressed, his figure stunning as always in one of his sharply tailored suits; the crisp white shirt fitted to perfection across his chest, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as she made her way to his room.

Following shortly behind her, he went straight to the blinds at the windows and closed them. Though they were up on the top floor, other offices were across from his in the building opposite.

His face was fixed as he turned round, a muscle at the side of his jaw flexing with anger.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Out.” She met his eyes head on. “Oh, and can I have my shoes back please?”

He started laughing. “You’re astonishing; we’re in the middle of a murder investigation, only for me to find you’ve completely disappeared for hours, with no idea of where you’ve gone, I call the hotel and you are not there. I don’t know if the police have picked you up for questioning and hauled you away, and you’re concerned about your shoes!”

He continued to laugh; the tension he had felt when he had discovered her missing flooding out of him, her flagrantly carefree attitude like a breath of fresh air amid the turmoil.

“You seem to have an inability to understand that you are not free to come and go just as you please.  I explicitly told you we need to keep as close together as possible in the circumstances, and instead you choose to go wandering off for hours, without telling me. Your behaviour is completely unacceptable.”
“Really?” she replied with sarcasm. “You have no right whatsoever to tell me how to behave.”

The shocking glint in his eyes told her she was provoking him now, and his dominance was sure to follow. An excitement ran through her as the air between them grew electric.

“In this case, I do. Do I need to put a collar around you’re neck? Put you on a leash? Is that what you need?”

He approached her and his hand went to her neck, enclosing around it. Pulling her slowly toward him he lowered his face to hers, level with her eyes as he held her gaze, and the most powerful feelings of possession ran through him, a feudal territorial need for her fuelled by an awakening of what he thought could be love for her. 

His hand left her neck and she watched as he undid his tie, pulling it from around his neck and placing it around hers, forming it into a knot.

Holding on to the length of it, he looked down at her.

“Should I keep you like this Tara?”

Pulling her by it he brought her against his body and as she anticipated him taking her there in the office, forcing her into a sexual position that most pleased him, he slowly brought his lips down to hers and kissed her, his eyes fixed on hers as their mouths met, and the intimacy of their close embrace took her breath away as his kiss deepened.

His other hand ran through her hair, his fingers entwining in it and holding her firmly, controlling his lust for her, holding himself in discipline to prevent himself from taking things further. He sought a more fundamental need from her in that moment; a comfort from her soul.

Loosening his hold on her, he broke off. “Did you have lunch?”

“No.”

“I’m taking you to eat.”

He wanted to spend time with her, away from the office.

Undoing the tie from around her neck he placed it back around his own, trying it neatly. Taking her arm, he led her out of the office.

“I’ll give you your shoes back later,” he grinned.

In the elevator, the sexual tension between them grew as they met each others eyes, but he restrained from touching her.

He considered taking her to the Club but changed his mind; though it had been the scene of their erotic sexual encounters from the beginning, it also held reminders of Chambers now. Instead, he walked her to a hotel rooftop restaurant not far from the office.

The view of the City from the terrace roof was incredible. As they stood at the edge, his arm went around her waist.

“Did I tell you I have a house on the Almalfi coast in Italy? I imagined you and I there, in solitude.”

“When?”
“Before you returned to London. Perhaps one day we can go there; if you can manage to keep us out of trouble for long enough that is?”

“Damien; I’m truly sorry for everything that’s happened.”

“I know you are. Besides, none of it’s really your fault. You just have a mischievous streak about you that encourages me to tease you. Trust me. You know I’ve always looked after you.”
She pulled out of his hold. “You sent me away.”

He looked to be considering his response.

“I know I’m not an easy man to be with.”

“I want to be with you.”

He deflected instantly. “Let’s go and eat shall we?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Come. You must be starving, you haven’t eaten all day.”

He was already walking back inside. Frustration tore at her.

Following him in, she sat at their table as he ordered champagne.

“Why won’t you talk to me? Why did you send me away?”

“I don’t do relationships Tara.”

“You just fuck women?”
“I told you before; I spend much of my time alone. It’s the way I choose to be.”
“Good you for.”

He often found her expressions odd; the British sayings she used were hard to translate sometimes, but sarcasm was a universal language.