“I’m Martha,” she beamed. “You must be Trent’s other half. What a pretty little thing you are. I’m all alone for this function. My Steven didn’t want to come tonight, says he got a headache. Would you mind terribly if I sat next to you. I don’t fancy sitting next to that pervert, Howard. He’s got a sneaky paw and blames it on his muscles spasms,” she rattled on not giving me a chance to correct her or get a word in.
Laughing, I glanced at Trent over her shoulder, and he nodded. I had no idea why but something in his expression told me she needed the attention. “Sure.”
“Oh, thank you, my dear.” She grabbed Trent’s placeholder, scooted around the table, swapped it with hers and returned to my side.
As she took his seat and studied the menu, Trent approached me. Slipping an arm around my waist, he drew me close. “She lost her husband six months ago, hasn’t accepted it yet and thinks he’s still alive,” he whispered in my ear.
I gasped and glanced at the old woman. Anyone looking in would think she was just a happy, easygoing person. My heart ached for what she must be going through.
“Her family hasn’t been the best of support. I’ve got a friend trying to help ease her into the truth. You don’t mind, do you?” He leaned back to look at me. I shook my head. “I have no idea where Drake is and I need to be up on stage for a bit.” He glanced around the room.
“It’s okay.”
“I promised not to leave you alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Thank you.” Dropping a quick kiss to my lips, he headed for the stage.
I lowered myself into the seat next to Martha and she immediately reached for my hand. Smiling, I caressed her hand as the emcee began speaking.
Half an hour later, after the formalities were over and just before dinner was served, Martha had found another lady her age to talk to about crocheting. I left Trent chatting to colleagues in search of the bathroom, instead, I found a door that led out into beautiful white rose gardens draped in soft lightening that probably looked even more spectacular under the sun. Needing a few moments to myself, I followed the stone pathway that curved between the bushes, stopping occasionally to smell the fresh flowers. I had barely walked a few paces when I heard a soft cry. Surprised, I glanced around but saw nothing. I paused to listen, and another soft cry sounded a moment later. Guessing it was probably a kitten, I did a three-sixty trying to pinpoint its location. Seeing nothing, I moved and rounded a corner in the pathway. I stopped short and backtracked a step yet couldn’t take my eyes off the vision in front.
The sounds came from a woman. She stood about twenty feet away with her back pressed up against the glass wall of what looked like a greenhouse. Her eyes were closed, her white dress gathered around her waist and her soft whimpers were courtesy of the man kneeling in front of her, his face buried between her legs. And judging by the pure ecstasy on her face, he probably excelled at eating pussy. I was about to step back when the woman’s eyes opened, and her heated gaze clashed with mine.
I balked. My breathing faltered for just a moment. To my surprise, she didn’t move or let her lover know they were being watched. Instead, her gaze stayed riveted on me, burrowing itself into the depths of every nerve cell connecting my brain to my pussy. A quiver shot through me, I felt the primal heat as it started at my nape and flowed all the way down to my toes. I shuddered. Stunned by my body’s reaction, some part, urging me to turn, run, move —do something to get away but stupidly my feet didn’t listen, and my breathing wavered once more. When her hips bucked up against his face, I almost groaned with her, the pulse between my legs now an erratic throb. I was suddenly desperate to touch myself, to feel what she was feeling, to slide my fingers deep inside my pussy until I burst into a million shards of pleasure that would be my orgasm. I clasped my neck, fingers spread, and pressed down lightly, compelling myself to breathe slowly.
Then she came. “Oh, God, yes,” her voice was low and husky, dripping with naked lust, yet her eyes stayed on mine tethered by some magnetic force that prevented me from looking away.
Giving her no reprieve from her high, her lover shot to his feet and in one quick move, lifted her with his hands under her thighs and impaled her on his cock. One of her hands on his nape, the other on his arm, she closed her eyes against his thrusts. The disconnection, however, didn’t break my spell. Their sexual sounds filled the air and my breathing hitched, my pussy clenched tight. Was it possible to come just from watching? I had to get out of there but somehow my legs wouldn’t move.
“That turns you on, doesn’t it, Ash. Watching other people fuck,” Trent’s gravelly voice rasped in my ear. Instead of shock at his appearance, my body responded to the sound of him. I trembled, now desperate to have him touch me. “Is your pussy dripping right now, sweetheart? If I had to slip my fingers inside your panties would they come out wet and warm, smelling of lust and hunger?”
“Given your insolence, why haven’t you fucked me, yet?” I asked, without turning to look at him, the pleading in my voice embarrassingly naïve for a woman who’d given him shit about his arrogance.
“Why don’t you tell me what you want?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Didn’t I just tell you what I want? For you to fuck me?”
He stared at me, against the halo of light shading his head, his eyes were the color of midnight sin itself. “Sliding my cock inside you until we come, won’t bring me the same satisfaction as you telling me what you really want. I want to see inside you, Ash. To take a peek at all your fantasies, the darkest ones, the ones you’re too shy to tell your friends, your husband. The secrets I want to make come true.”
A surge of arousal coiled in my belly, squeezing tight. “What makes you think I have any?” I asked, my voice almost breathless. My palms turned clammy from having clenched them each time Trent spoke. I swallowed hard to push down the nausea—the threatening queasiness of telling someone what I desired. How having someone watch me fuck myself—or better still being fucked while being watched—turned me on, made me so damn wet, it dripped down my legs in anticipation. Was I sick? Would he look down on me if I told him?
“Tell me,” he urged as if reading my mind. The breath staggered in my chest, wishing to blurt it out. When I said nothing, he cupped my chin and turned my face away. “Look at them, sweetheart and tell me.”
I watched as the man slowed his thrusts to kiss her. I wanted to see his face, to hear what he said to make her smile with such adoration when he pulled back. He began moving again. The squeals she let out and the intensity of his grip on her thighs indicated he was fucking her hard and fast. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as they moved in a perfect harmony I envied. Still, I kept quiet, unable to voice what I really wanted.
“Turn around.” I did as Trent asked. “Look at me.” I lifted my eyes to his. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”
Aware another couple was fucking a few feet away from us and other people could walk past at any time, I glanced around. “Here?” Even though I asked, a deviant thrill crested through me and I was shaking.
As if he read my mind, he replied, “You know you want to.” He moved closer, slipping his hand around my waist. “Sex is a form of art, Ash. There is nothing degrading about it. Some people just prefer a little more thrill to their pleasure. It’s no different to an extreme car racer or skydiving. You just need to embrace it.” He cupped my face and slowly tantalized my lips with his. “Would you like me to force your desires from you?”
Staring up at him, I was drawn into that look of understanding, of encouragement. How was it possible that this man who didn’t know me, could see right into my soul where others had failed? I sighed. “About six months after I woke from the coma and while still coming to terms with my memory loss, I attended a party with a friend, a nurse at the hospital. She didn’t tell me it was a sex party. Although I wasn’t forced into participating sexually, I was turned on watching other people fuck and took part in the various activities. Some included dancing.” I paused unsure if I wanted to divulge more.
“Hey.” Trent rubbed a slow finger along my jawline. “There’s no one here but the two of us and there’s nothing wrong with attending a sex party or dancing at one for that matter.”
I chewed my lip, realizing what he’d assumed. “You don’t understand.”
