Tempted by Fate (The Fate Trilogy Book Two) (5 page)

Later, when I walked into my bedroom I
spotted a light blue dress on the bed. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the
intricate lacework on the sleeves and skirt as well as the tiny beads woven in
and out of the fabric. No matter how many dresses or jewelry Victor had given
me, I was always awestruck when presented with them. I was curious as to how
much everything cost, but I didn’t dare ask for fear of feeling guilty over
wearing such a lavish garment.

Just like the other clothes Victor had given
me, the dress fit like a dream. As I looked in the mirror, I noticed the fabric
hugged in all the right places and showed my figure off perfectly. The white
pearls hung right above my neckline, which showed just a hint of my cleavage
underneath. The dark blue heels fit comfortably. I walked around my room in
them as though I were walking around barefoot.

The fact that I used to stumble around in
such shoes seemed like a distant memory.

***

Thirty minutes later we were driving over the
long bridge that led us into San Francisco. I hadn’t stepped foot in the city
since the night I arrived at Victor’s mansion. The city’s beauty and charm
shone through in a different way than I ever remembered. It had been an amazing
few months; I had changed so much. The hills and old Spanish buildings that had
previously been so oppressive now seemed beautiful. By the time Oscar parked in
front of a hotel illuminated in the night by bright, yellow lights, the nerves
I had been harboring regarding the evening had mostly disappeared.

I stepped out of the car and smiled to
myself.The party was held towards the back of the building in a fancy banquet
room that extended with wide open French doors to the courtyard gardens. There
were already crowds of people socializing in small groups. The room hushed for
a moment as Victor made his appearance. Although I wasn’t looking at anyone
directly, I could tell that their eyes were on me, wondering who the new girl
was. I felt my upper back and neck begin to tense as they always did when I
started to feel nervous, and Victor gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. As people
began greeting Victor, the room turned back to the buzzing chatter of before. I
relaxed and took a deep breath; all I had to do was look pretty, smile, and
give short answers to questions when people decided to give me a moment of
attention.

As soon as I saw a server, I grabbed a glass
of white wine just so I could have something to do with my hands while Victor
talked to an endless stream of people about topics that went way over my head.
As the wine hit my system, I felt myself relax a bit more, and I was actually
starting to enjoy my time mingling with these rich, successful people, even if
my job was to just smile and laugh with them every now and then. I lost count
of how many women stared longingly at Victor, even those who were obviously
with their husbands or boyfriends. They annoyed me, but I would still smile at
them pleasantly when they looked my way, which in turn would cause them to
blush or look away. I think I had too much fun with that.

One couple came up to Victor with a more
familiar posture than the rest. The woman was older than Victor by at least ten
years, but she still held herself gracefully, her brown hair done up in a
tasteful chignon hanging over an expensive midnight blue dress and framing her
bright green eyes. She seemed to be the one who knew Victor. On her arm was a
boyish looking man no older than I was. He was several inches shorter than
Victor with unblemished olive skin and black hair combed to the side but
falling carelessly down toward his eyes.

Sure enough, it was the woman who spoke first
as they approached. “Victor, how
are
you,” she said warmly. “It’s been
far too long.”

“Catherine,” Victor said, matching her tone,
“I agree. You look wonderful.”

She smiled. I liked her. She was warm but not
threatening.“Thank you, dear. And who is this you’ve brought with you?”

Victor’s arm slid around my waist as he
squeezed me toward him. “This is Dove.”

Her gaze directed towards me. “And what do
you do, Dove?”

I looked toward Victor, but he was looking
back at me expectantly. “I’m a painter.”

I saw the man at Catherine’s side shoot his
eyebrows up. Before he could speak, Catherine shrieked with delight. “Oh how
lovely! Pedro is a graduate student in painting at San Francisco State.” She
looked at Pedro. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? Victor and Dove, this is
Pedro.”

“Nice to meet you,” Pedro said, in an accent
thick enough that I figured he probably wasn’t from the United States. He shook
Victor’s hand firmly. When he shook mine, he looked directly into my eyes. His
were a coffee brown.

“Pedro, honey, why don’t you go talk to Dove
about painting for a few minutes while I talk privately with Victor? We have
something important to discuss.”

We all looked at Victor, whose mouth turned
in conflict for a moment before he shook it free. “Of course,” he said, giving
my back a quick squeeze. “Dove, I’ll come find you in a moment.”

He turned and walked across the room,
Catherine in tow. Pedro offered me his arm. “We can walk in the garden,” he
said. “It’s much prettier outside.”

I took it and grabbed a glass of white wine
from a passing waiter with my other hand. Pedro wasn’t as attractive as Victor,
but it felt good to know I could get attention from other men too. It made me
feel beautiful.

Feeling the wine working through my system, I
decided to be bold and speak first. “So where are you from, Pedro?”

“Santiago, Chile,” he said with pride. “It’s
the capital. I just came here to study painting last August. It’s nice being
here, but I’m going to return home when I’m done.”

His accent made following his words a
challenge, but I felt exotic talking to him, as if I were back in Paris. “And
where did you meet Catherine?”

He shook his head and smiled, his teeth
bright white. “Did you learn to paint in school?”

So he didn’t want to talk about Catherine.
“No,” I said. “It’s just something that seems to come naturally to me. To be
honest I’m not sure where it comes from.”

“Ah yes, I know what you mean. It’s beautiful
when it just comes like that. To be a natural. I am jealous. What do you like
to paint?”

“Everything, but especially people.”

“I see. Maybe you can paint my portrait some
time.”

I laughed with pleasure. That did sound fun,
and it would be great to have another friend in my life. Before I could ask him
what he painted, I heard a familiar voice from behind us.

“Dove, there you are!” Victor said, a little
too eagerly. He grabbed my arm holding the wine roughly so I almost spilled it
on my dress.

“Victor!” I cried. “Pedro and I―”

“We have to go,” Victor said before I could
finish. “Pedro, it was wonderful meeting you. Catherine just went to the ladies
room. You should probably wait for her there.” We turned and left.

“Victor, what’s going on?”

He took my half-finished wine glass from my
hand and put it on an empty tray. Still holding my arm tightly, he steered me
through the rest of the party and out to the waiting car without a word.
Confused thoughts tumbled in my head the entire way. Had I said something
wrong? Was there an emergency having to do with Catherine? Could he actually be
jealous of me talking to Pedro for a few minutes?

The last thought made me fume. I had a right
to talk to people other than him. When we got into the car, he let me in first
then followed close behind and shut the door. I turned to confront him.
“Victor,” I started, “what―”

Before I could continue, his mouth sealed
over mine, his tongue invading my mouth and caressing my own with lush slides.
The kiss was slow and sensuous, not like the kisses he had given me after he
had seen his wife. That night he had been a lightning ball sending off sparks
everywhere. This time he had control.

With one arm, he picked me up from where I
sat and turned me so I was lying across the seat on my back. My arms went up
and my hands interlocked behind his neck. He broke the kiss long enough to tell
Oscar to drive around for a while over the intercom, then turned back to face
me, his arms straight on either side of my head to support his weight.

“Dove,” he said, “could you ever want anyone
else?”

I took a deep breath and got up my energy to
yell, to tell him I could have other friends and talk to other people without
him having to own me every second. But when I looked up in his eyes, I saw a
different kind of rawness than I had witnessed when he had seen his wife in
Paris. He was still the same strong man I recognized before, but the question
was genuine. He really wanted to know, and he really wasn’t sure.

“I only want you,” I said. “But―”

“That’s all I wanted know, Dove,” he said.
“We’ll talk about the rest later.” With that he shifted so his weight was on
one elbow, freeing his other hand. His fingers trailed up my leg. “For now,
we’re busy.”

He traced his fingers to my panties and
touched me gracefully as he kissed me hard on the mouth. I gasped into his lips
at the sudden jolt of sensation so soon after I had been ready to be mad at
him, tasting the red wine he had been drinking at the party. My fingers found
his hair and I pulled him closer to me, taking in his scent. As my underwear
shifted around, I quickly realized how wet I was. To my relief, I quickly felt his
fingers come up over the drenched garment’s waistband. I eased my hips up to
let him take them off.

I was exposed to him. I waited with
anticipation for what he would do next, each second heightening my arousal. In
the silence of the moment, I noticed the controlled way he was breathing. I
imagined the hardness of the bulge of his pants, though I couldn’t see it from
where I lay.

He bent down and kissed my ear, his tongue
teased lightly before his lips came together to nip the kiss closed. From there
he brushed his lips slowly down my neck to my chest, kissing my breasts through
my dress. As he moved lower still, I realized what he was going to do and
thrust my fingers into his hair, waiting eagerly. My hips rocked toward his
tongue.

He pinned them down with his forearm and held
me there. When I opened my eyes and looked down at him, his eyes were locked on
my face like they were trying to hold me still. I met his gaze for several
seconds before he dove down and I closed my eyes.

My body erupted with pleasure as I felt his
tongue work around my pussy. He was clearly an expert; the way he alternated
between using light and heavy touches, the tip and flat of his tongue,
established a rhythm while providing enough variety that I didn’t know what was
coming next. I squirmed and shifted against him, building toward an orgasm I
was anticipating greedily.

Suddenly he stopped. I felt him move back to
my ear and suck on it slowly, his tongue mimicking the motion my pussy had been
feeling seconds earlier.

“What do you want?” he whispered.

You
.
I opened my eyes and reached for his crotch, wanting to pull him out and make
him feel as desperate and needy as I did, wanting to exert the same control
over his body that he seemed to have over mine.

“I want you to fuck me, Sir,” I breathed.

He moved himself out of my grasp and kissed
my neck agonizingly slowly. “Tell me what you want me to fuck you with.”

I felt my wetness on the leather seat beneath
me. The burning throb of needing to fuck him had moved from my core to
encompass every inch of me, from my tongue in his mouth to my toes curling in
my shoes. I reached for the bulge in his pants again, giving his cock a squeeze
and felt it shudder through his pants. The heat of his arousal pushed me closer
to the edge as he pulled his hips away from my hand yet again. I heard the
sound of a zipper being pulled down and instantly reached for his heavy cock
and balls, feeling them in my hand before attempting to guide him into my
aching pussy.

“Please Sir,” I gasped, “your cock. Put your
cock in my pussy. I want it n―”
Before I could finish, he plunged into me, his cock hard with lust. I moaned
into his neck, tasting the sweat over his shirt collar, wanting to bite it down
to get to more of his skin. I almost came. I fought it down, nearly tearing up
with the effort.

He moved in and out a few times slowly and
deeply, his gaze moving up from my legs to my eyes. I ripped down the knot of
his plum tie and worked the buttons of his shirt so I could run my hands across
his bare chest. He had never had sex with me like this. A warm look slowly
developed on his face as his eyes softened.