Tainted Love (Book 1) (34 page)

I fall quickly to my knees and I start sucking him. Sending him to the back of my throat, he hisses and grabs onto the gold rails in the elevator.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he bites out.

I fellate him appreciatively, making slurping noises. He smells alluring
– of body wash and arousal – which creates a heady mix for me. I suck him harder and he grips the sides of my head to steady me while he fucks my greedy mouth.

Ben lifts me to stand and spins me around.
“Off,” he clips, tugging on my pants.

Deftly pulling my pants down, my sex tightens with delight. Ben drags me closer then impatiently bends me forward.

“Grab on to the rails,” he orders, but I faintly hear him over the blood roaring through my ears. He swats me hard on my ass and rephrases his command, “Grab on. Now!”

I do as I’
m told.

Shifting my black thong, Ben shoves his hot, throbbing cock inside, making me yelp. My legs wobble
as an instant orgasm threatens and he begins the merciless pounding of my sex. The elevator is filled with the smell of hot sex, the slapping of skins and the most carnal of sounds. I cry out with every pleasurable hit of my pussy, my vocal chords already strained.

“Don’
t. Ever. Defy. Me,” Ben breathes, with every swift stroke of his cock. “Never. Run.”

Gripping my waist he grinds into me and I squeal in ecstasy. My knuckles are white as I grip the rails hard for balance; balance that threatens to leave me if I ever come. I am drenched in sweat, my hair wet around me. He starts pounding me again and it feels too good for me not to come.

Ben wraps my hair around his wrist, sinks his other hand in my lower back and batters into me over and over and over.

With a rasp, he commands, “Come for me!”

I wail as I fall apart into a much-needed and long-awaited climax.

Ben follows as he releases my hair, grabs my waist with both hands and hammers into me until he comes in a visceral growl and violent shudder; prolonging my own orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Ben curses as he exits me. He spins me to him and I slink against him, too worn.

Leaning me against the elevator walls, he lifts
my blouse and frees my breasts, sealing his lips over one nipple and working his tongue across it. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite down on my bottom lip, absorbing every ounce of pleasure. He slips his hand between my legs, spreading me, and shoves two fingers into my come-moistened core.

Ben works me into a frenzy and I thrash against the elevator walls as I near another orgasm.

“You forget who has control,” he breathes as he teases my nipple.

“
Ben,” I whimper. “I’m sorry.”

Ben doesn’
t let up. And when he flicks his thumb over my swollen clit, I convulse; grinding against the rhythm of his finger. With a strained moan, I come; falling apart into pleasurable oblivion.

Ben straightens his clothes while I do the same. Feeling like an errant child
– which I am – I don’t look at him. It was such a childish way to behave and I mentally kick myself for it. Well, it wasn’t that bad since I’d gotten what I’d wanted.

But at what price?

“Look at me,” Ben orders.

I turn, keeping my eyes downward. He tips my chin up, but still I train my eyes to the floor.

“Look at me, Sullivan,” he demands harshly.

I timidly gaze up at him, meeting his intense eyes. He looks pissed and rightly so.

“Are you pleased with yourself? I’m late for my meeting,” he says coolly. Too cool, if you ask me.

“
I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No, you’
re not. I think you get a kick out of driving me crazy; out of making me lose control,” he contends.

“No, I–”

“Don’t,” Ben interjects, cutting me off with a raised palm. “You got what you wanted.”

He pulls his k
ey out, restarting the elevator’s descent. My mood worsens when he doesn’t look at or say a word to me the whole way down. Have I ruined this relationship before it’s gotten anywhere?

The doors open on the first floor and a few of his security team is waiting in the lobby for us. I step out of the car and turn to face him, wanting desperately to make sure everything is alright between us.

“Is everything okay, sir?” one of the men asks.

“
Yes,” he answers icily. “Good day, Miss Beal.”

An implacable mask slides over his face as the elevator doors glide slowly to a close.
Miss Beal
? Oh no.
Is this the end?

My heart twists when the doors close with Ben not giving me a passing glance.
What have I done
?

He is going to have to do a lot of damage control because of my little stunt. I guess I went too far this time and I caused him to lose control at the one place he embodies it. Will he still have the respect of his employees after
this?

I gasp and
stifle a sob as I remember his boss who must’ve seen what went on. Have I ruined Ben’s chances of becoming CEO? Is that what his meeting is about? Dread builds inside me and all I want to do is disappear, or turn back the hands of time.

If I had been thinking…no, I wasn’
t thinking. I never think when I want to have my way. I’m stubborn and foolish, and Ben would do well to never see me again after the stunt I’ve pulled.

“
Miss Beal?” Simon calls.

I turn to Simon whose concerned face threatens the tears I had only just tucked away. Smoothing my hair down, to hide the look of just-fucked dishevelment, I walk shamefacedly toward Simon who takes my book bag and follows me.

Smiling weakly at Simone who looks absolutely stunned and scared, I exit Fielding House with a burst. Simon rounds me and opens the door to the Phantom so that I may slide in. Handing me my bag, Simon gets into the front of the vehicle and starts the car, setting off into traffic.

“
Take me home,” I tell Simon, too despondent to face anyone at the moment.

“Will do, Sullivan,”
Simon answers.

At the apartment, I strip out of my clothes and head for the fridge where I take out an open bottle of Chardonnay. I know I should be quitting, but the events of today call for it. Pouring it into a champagne glass, I gulp it down quickly and head to the bathroom to run myself a bath.

Texting Rachel, I write:

Having one of those fluffy robes and French vanilla coffee days. Come straight home.

She responds shortly after:

Will pick up dinner on the way. *big hug*

I then type a quick message to Lizzie, just in case she is worried:

Hey Liz. Not feeling well. Went home.

Lizzie responds:

Feel better hon. I
’ll get you the info from the honors seminar.

Shit. I didn’t even remember that. I can’
t afford to miss too many of those.

Heading back into the living room,
I dial the number for the center manager at First Steps and wait for her answer.

“
Sarah Lyle,” she answers.

“Sarah, it’s Sullivan.”

“Hello, Sullivan. Are you coming in today?” Her voice is so warm and inviting that it makes me reconsider, for a moment, my decision to stay away. Considering my state of folly, though, it’s best for me to lick my wounds and live to fight another day. Besides, I’d have been too distracted to do any kind of counseling, mentorship or group session.

“That’s what I called about,”
I say. “I won’t be coming in today. I’m not feeling so well.” I’m feeling wounded is more like the truth.

“
Oh, I’m sorry. Is it the flu?” Sarah asks concerned.

“No. It’
s probably a bad reaction to something I ate,” I fib.
More like a bad reaction to something I did
, I chastise myself inwardly.

“
Well I hope you feel better,” she wishes, and I don’t know why, but I feel guilty about lying to her.

“Thanks, Sarah.”
I hang up and pour out another glass of Chardonnay and bring it to the bathroom with me.

Lying in the tub, soap suds frothing over my breasts, I take occasional sips of my champagne. The images of what happened earlier
plague my conscience and I can’t help but think that Ben deserves better.

Sighing, I rest my glass on the side of the bath. Picking up my cell, I type out a quick message to Ben.

If u never want to see me again after the stunt I pulled, I totally understand.

I don’
t expect him to respond and am startled when my cell phone alerts me to a new message. From
him
.

You piss me off more than anyone I know. A
nd right now is no exception. I’m in a meeting.

My eyes water and I toss my head back in full knowledge
that I have royally fucked up.

I feel a familiar pulling in my groin as I sleep. Tossing in bed, the hairs on t
he back of my neck rise and I’m filled with goose bumps as need swells in my core. My God, I feel him; my body hyper-aware of him even in slumber, indication enough that my body belongs to him.

I inhale his scent and open my eyes to see him watching me with his hands in his pockets. His face is placid, but a twitch in his jaw betrays him, making me aware that he is still angry. He no longer has his vest and tie on. His shirt is open at the top, revealing a chest that I desperately want to trail kisses on. Grabbing the chair I have in my room, Ben takes a seat in front of me.

I sit up in bed, unsure of what to say and equally afraid of saying any words, all at the same time. Crossing his legs, Ben watches me eerily. He’s here, so that must mean something…right? How did he even get in? I didn’t give him my key.

Rachel. She must’ve let him up.

The silence is excruciating, but I know what he needs. I slip out of bed and strip out of my tank top and pajama shorts, revealing my naked body. I grab the belt from my bathrobe and I hold it out to him in supplication.