Sweet Seduction Shadow (19 page)

If I didn't, was I as bad as him?

"We can protect you, enter you into the witness protection programme. Give you a new identity after this is done." Pierce laughed at that irony. "One that would get you through border control legally, should you decide to see the world." He offered a small smile. "But, we're about to take down his entire ring. Not a single arsehole will be left standing. The fallout will be well contained."

"Even you know prison bars are no hindrance to revenge," Ben pointed out.

"Abi's good at hiding, Ben," Pierce replied steadily. "You said she's the best you've ever seen."

My gaze flicked to Ben's face. He was not happy. But I couldn't help smiling. He thought I was the best.

"Don't be so smug, red," he said, not looking at me, but keeping his eyes trained on Pierce.

"Anyway," Pierce said, as though his next words would seal the deal, "I can't see you letting anyone touch a hair on her skin."

"Fuckin' A," Ben said with conviction, arms crossed over chest, brows down over granite-chipped dark eyes.

"We can make this as safe as possible. Protect her image while she gives evidence. She'd be doing it as Sarah Monaghan. You said yourself, she hasn't been Sarah Monaghan for years now. Connecting that girl to this woman would be damn near impossible," Pierce pointed out.

"But not completely impossible. You did it," Ben bit back.

"I got lucky," Pierce admitted. "A chance thing, no more."

"All it takes is a little bad luck for Abi and she's done," Ben replied.

Pierce let a long breath of air out and sat back in his seat. "All of this is just taking us round and round in useless circles. Maybe Abi's evidence isn't necessary. Maybe we've got enough to go on and it would be superfluous to our needs. Maybe it isn't damning enough to bother risking her with it."

"You better fuckin' believe it's not," Ben interrupted, Pierce ignored him.

"But we've got to walk this path and find out." Pierce's voice softened. "Do you want her to keep all of that filth inside and wonder if she should have piped up and got it out? Wonder if it makes her a little..."

"Stop right there!" Ben yelled, suddenly standing up and grabbing Pierce's shirt collar, hauling the detective over the top of the table that separated us. "Don't say another word."

But I knew what Ben was trying to protect me from. I'd already thought it.
Wonder if by not saying something I was as bad as Roan.

"Will you do what I ask?" I said to Pierce, still wrapped up in Ben's fist. He wasn't fighting him, he was simply standing there, arms loose at his sides, staring Ben down.

"You have my word, Abi," Pierce said steadily. "I won't push her, but I will ask. As for the rest of it, if you're prepared to sit down and discuss it, we can take it from there."

I nodded, accepting that as the best assurance I'd get. Ben released Pierce's shirt with a thrust, making the man stagger back awkwardly. He turned toward me, breathing heavily.

"You know how I feel about this," he said, voice once again so deep and rough it was hard to decipher the words. "Let the police deal with this. Your father's already risked his neck for that piece of shit. You don't have to, he did it for you. They have enough."

"But I'll always know," I said, reaching out and resting my hand above his heart. "Here," I whispered, and then shifted my hand up to his head, wrapping my palm around his temple. "And here. You wanted him gone from those places, then let me set those memories free."

His face fell, his whole body shuddered, just once.

"Fuck, red," he said almost inaudibly. "Why'd you have to be so fuckin' noble?"

"Would you have wanted me otherwise?" He shook his head roughly and then reached out and pulled me into his embrace. I don't know what Pierce did. For just a brief moment I pretended it was just Ben and me. No cameras or microphones. No one watching. Nothing between us at all.

In his arms, with his acceptance over something he was so set against, but I could tell he'd back me unfailingly in the end, I felt... truly alive.

I hated that this upset him. I hated that it brought back memories he'd fought so hard to hide from. But I also had faith that together we could face anything.

Together we could make each other free.

Ben was kissing me. It was erotic and sensual and I knew, in that moment, that it was elicit as well. Cameras were in this room. He'd told me, before we climbed into bed to sleep, that when the lights were switched off they turned to infra-red vision. Still be able to capture video footage of what happened in the dark.

It had been a warning.
Don't try anything, because ASI, and maybe even Eric, would be watching it all
.
But he was kissing me now. And not just a light peck on the cheek, or chaste brush of his lips against mine. This was deep and hungry and completely arousing.

For this sweet moment in time I forgot my fears of being watched. I forgot Abi Merchant would never do anything this risqué. I forgot everything except the man pressed hard against me and his hot, wet tongue devouring my mouth.

This was bliss. This was what my life could be like, if I didn't have to run anymore. Ben was better than any dream, better than any medication induced image I could form in my mind. For once in my life reality was better than any fantasy I could conjure up.

And I loved it.

I craved it.

I was lost to it and had no hope of surviving without my fix ever again.

His hand scrunched up my hair, tipping my head to exactly where he wanted me to be for the kiss. His other hand ran down the side of my body, slipping up under the T-shirt I wore and wrapped around my naked breast. He kneaded it hard, then tweaked the nipple painfully. Following that up with a soft sweep of his thumb to soothe. The contrast of bitter and sweet sent adrenaline coursing through me, making my skin tingle and my body come alive.

His large thigh pressed between my legs giving me the friction I so desperately needed. He drank down my moan and shifted his body further to cover mine, slipping into the cradle my legs created. I felt his hard, hot erection press into my stomach. And a corresponding wetness soak the curls between my thighs. I writhed against him, shamelessly seeking release by rubbing back against his beautiful body, while my fingers clutched his upper arms, nails digging into flesh.

"One orgasm like this first," he whispered, in that rough, hard voice of his. "Then quietly, beneath the sheets, I'm gonna fuck you." If the sheets covered us, then the cameras would only get a hint of what was really happening.

God yes, I could do this.

I wanted this. I
needed
this. I needed him.

"Ben," I whispered my thought.

"Yeah, red?" he replied, right next to me ear. "What do you want?"

You. Inside. Taking me hard. Letting me fly free.

His hand at my breast swept down over hot feverish skin to find exactly the right spot between my thighs. One finger swept up through the folds, coating himself in my moisture. He groaned in my ear, rubbed his erection against my stomach and then delved that finger deep inside. Right to his knuckle, then stopped.

I was panting, arching my back, offering myself up for him to devour. He didn't disappoint. His lips wrapped around a nipple over the material of my shirt, then his finger began to flick and swirl inside. His thumb found my nub and started up a pace of gentle sweeping across the bundle of nerves, setting my body alight. I felt the pull at my breast, the small nip of teeth at my nipple, and then he pulled out his finger and replaced it with his cock.

Holy shit. He'd said one like this first, then he'd fuck me beneath the sheets. And oh, dear God, he felt good. Thick and hard and stretching me deliciously wide.

"Fuck, red. Couldn't wait," he groaned out above me as he slowly sank further and further in.

Each glide out sent desolation through me, to only be replaced with elation as he pushed himself back in. Inch by torturous inch he made more progress inside, stretching, filling, taking all of me as I took all of him.

He was amazing, perfect. He fitted me in every way. I writhed beneath him, arched my body, wrapped my legs around his waist and met him thrust to thrust. His breath expelled across my cheek, his teeth nipped at my ear and the scent of his cologne engulfed me. Completely drew me under.

"Look at me," he demanded in a husky whisper.

My eyes sprang open, confirming this was real, this was what being alive actually felt like. I could see the dark granite colour of his eyes, even in the dimness of the room. I could smell his minty fresh breath from the toothpaste he'd used before climbing into bed. I could feel the hardness of his body, matching the softness of mine. Every dip he filled. Every curve, he wrapped expertly around.

"That's it," he breathed out above me, rocking his hips slowly, rhythmically against my core. Filling me, consuming me, claiming me. "Fuck, red. You're a fuckin' turn-on."

I nodded. Right then my entire body was lit up from within. I had never been so aroused as right now. Knowing cameras recorded everything, knowing Ben couldn't keep his hands off me, his cock out of me, even with the chance of being caught hanging over our heads. He needed me as much as I needed him.

He reached down and grasped my leg, behind my thigh and then lifted it out and up. The angle making him go deeper. He let a little moan out, then followed it up with an erotic sounding grunt as his thrusts increased. The pace beginning to take on a sense of urgency that matched my need to come.

"So good," he muttered above me. "So fuckin' worth it," he groaned as his head fell down and his panting breath washed over my naked chest.

Somehow I'd lost my T-shirt, I didn't remember losing that. But I was grateful for it. The sensation of his hard smooth chest brushing against the skin of my naked breasts was invigorating. I moaned loudly, received a swat on my butt cheek as warning and then his mouth covered mine to ensure I didn't make any more loud sounds.

I was in heaven, but I wasn't going to last. This was too good. Too sensational. I wanted to let go. I wanted Ben to let go with me.

"Ben," I breathed into his mouth. His tongue took advantage of the opening and delved inside, sweeping expertly around my mouth, then somehow positioning my tongue to be sucked hard into his mouth.

Oh shit, I could come just by kissing this man, but he was doing more than just kissing right now. His thrusts were timed to perfection, synchronised to each suck of my tongue in his mouth. The hand that had been holding my leg high and wide, slid down the inside of my thigh, sending shockwaves of delicious sensations through my entire body.

I was making all manner of sensual sounds that no amount of kissing could quieten. I think he'd given up trying, but he hadn't given up on anything else. The hand that had slid down my thigh pressed between us, and his thumb found my clit and began to rub. Each sweep timed to match the thrust of his cock inside and the suck of his mouth on my tongue.

Pulsing started up at every location he touched and sucked and thrust into. My body felt like a quivering, combustible mass. From head to toe I was his. To command. To direct. To control.

I whimpered, letting him know I was desperate, unable to say a word, too lost to the sensations to think clearly, and kissing him back just as hard as he kissed me.

"Now, red," he murmured into my mouth, pressed his thumb firmly against my nub and shifted his hips to change the angle of his thrusts.

I came apart with exquisite ease. A coiled spring unwinding in a shatteringly fast explosion of bliss. I arched beneath him, felt his shudder above me as my nerves pinged around my body, firing shots of electricity everywhere. I cried out his name as the orgasm slammed into me and heard him growl and then pick up pace with his hips.

One. Two. Three thrusts. His breath left him in a rush of air and a delightfully erotic sounding groan. And then I felt his release fill me, coat me inside.

Sweat clung to our bodies as we lay tangled together beneath the sheets and let the world coalesce around us slowly, bringing us down from that high.

God, he was good at this. I would never get enough.

"Red," I heard him say, his deep, rough voice sounding loud all of a sudden. "Red. Jesus, red. Wake up!"

No. No, no, no, no, no.

His hands at my shoulders shaking me, his breath washing over my face as he repeated his instructions for me to wake up.

Oh shit no.

Or maybe, this was a good thing. Yeah, I was going to go with that. Because there
were
cameras in this room, and having amazing, mind-blowing sex on film was not a stellar idea. Perhaps a vivid dream of Ben fucking me was better than the reality I had craved.

I groaned aloud in frustration and disbelief. I could tell myself that, but I still wanted the real thing. I'd had it now, I knew how good it could be. Hell, reality had invaded my fantasies, because the faceless man, who had smelled like Ben in my dreams, now looked like and sounded like him too.

I couldn't help it, a smile graced my lips. It was probably a little rueful, but at least my dream had an ecstatic end to it this time.

"What?" I asked, finally opening my eyes to a worried, and I was thinking, slightly amused Ben.

"Fuck, red," he said, on a breath of incredulous air. "Some fuckin' dream you were having there. You did
not
want to wake up."

Understatement. My smile widened. His lips began to tip up in a corresponding smile of his own.

"Wanna tell me about it, sunshine?" he whispered, settling his big frame in a more relaxed fashion against my side.

I was wearing my T-shirt, the one I'd managed to lose in my dream. But the familiar feel of his heat and hardness, lying down the side of me, wrapped up in the familiar scent of him, was calming, soothing.

Perfect.

But admitting I'd just had hard and fast and totally awesome, medication induced, sex with him in my dream was more than I could face up to right now. I shook my head to say no.

His smile became smug.

"Then, I'll just have to fill in the blanks. Like, maybe you were playin' with yourself. Fingers slick with your juices, legs spread wide as I watched."

My eyes felt big in my face, but I managed to shake my head again to say no. A small twitch took up residence at the corner of my lips.

"No," he confirmed. "How about me lickin' you, tastin' that delicious honey of yours, while you bucked and writhed and ground back against my face."

I raised my eyebrows at him. Really, I think that was his fantasy more than mine. However, I'd definitely not complain if it was on offer.

"OK," he said, a small amused smile on his face. "You're still not gonna tell me?"

I shook my head no, then cocked it to the side, waiting for another of his guesses. This was entertaining, and also it broke the spell of the dream with apparent ease. What would he think up next? And could it match my
Aurorix
induced fantasies of him?

I realised then, that those medication assisted dreams
had
involved Ben. Even before I had a face to gaze at on my mystery man, he had smelled like Ben's cologne. He had been Ben in my mind. Even before I knew Ben existed.

How was that possible?

"How about," Ben whispered, ducked his head down and nuzzled his face into the curve of my neck, "you were dreaming about me movin' inside you, right here, right now, under these sheets, with the cameras rollin'. Are you a closet exhibitionist, red? Is that what turns you on?" His voice was husky and deep, and if he thought I was turned on in my dream, he should pay attention to the sound of his words right now.
They
were undoubtedly turned on by the image he'd just created.

"You're a good investigator, Ben," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him and softly running my hands through his hair. I felt his entire body relax into me, as though my touch, or perhaps my words, gave him something he desperately needed.

He pulled me closer, our bodies flush against each other. We couldn't have been nearer unless he
was
inside me; an image that had done enough mischief already tonight.

"Do you dream like this a lot?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled as his lips still pressed against my skin.

I nodded, then found the strength to open up to him and admit, "It's because of medication."

I'm not sure why I told him that, but with Ben I found acceptance. I found open arms and a warm body that didn't turn away. If he could accept where I had come from, who I'd had to be for the past too many years, then I was pretty sure he'd accept the fucked up, screwed up, prescription-meds-taking me.

"What medication?" he asked softly, carefully, as though he was treading on egg shells, but desperately trying to get to the other side.

I stifled my sigh. He wasn't running, at least there was that.

"
Aurorix
," I said, resisting the urge to put space between us. "For anxiety." There wasn't really anything else to add to that. Running from Roan McLaren for so long would make anyone anxious.

He gave me a gentle squeeze of his arms, then laid a soft kiss against my neck, above my pulse there - which was fluttering a little too quickly, I think.