Sweet heavens, woman!“It’s supposed to be.”
“Surely, not the first time?”
“For someone as eager as you, even the first time.”
She snorts a delighted laugh.
I press a tiny bit deeper and begin to pump, while the ball of my hand rubs against her swollen clit. With each measured stroke, she pants, writhing against me. As I build up momentum, she tightens and strains. And then her entire body arches upward, mouth gaping, eyes shut. A few more rapid strokes, and she comes with a deep, throaty “oh.”
I pull my fingers out as she lies next to me, her body limp and satiated, and her eyes still shut. Slowly, I move my hand up her tummy, breasts and arm, tracing along the contours of her body until I cup her cheek.
She plants a tender kiss on the inside of my wrist. “It was so much better than when I do it myself! Like, no comparison.”
“That’s the whole point,” I say with a smile. “If solitary pleasures were better, the human race would go extinct.”
She gives it some thought. “True.”
“Ready for more?”
“Not yet.” She sets her still misty gaze on mine. “Can you give me a moment?”
“Take as long as you need! I’m not going anywhere.”
Her expression changes.
My bad—I should’ve resisted the touch of sarcasm.
Or had she never lost awareness of my dicey situation and of how little time we have? Whichever it is, sadness is now clouding her eyes and pulling the corners of her mouth down. Reality has kicked back in.
DARREL
Stella turns on her side, facing me, tucks a folded arm under her head and trails her fingertips along the planes of my chest, shoulder, and arm.
I remain passive. My arousal hasn’t gone away, but my head is cleared enough to permit some reasoning. An exchange between Yvonne and Lana caught on the video earlier comes to mind. Yvonne told Lana she was working on having me develop Stockholm syndrome.
What if Stella is in on it?What if she’s the cornerstone of that plan? Can I set my lust for her aside for a moment and analyze this rationally?
OK, here we go.
If her goal is for me to develop a bond and affection for her, then she’s almost there.
On the other hand, she does genuinely want me. A drenched pussy doesn’t lie.
On the third hand, she won’t call Adam.
On the fourth hand, she got the spy cam, like I’d asked. Thanks to her camera, I was able to look behind the scenes and see the parts her mother had compelled me to forget.
What does all that leave me with, besides a four-handed Shiva?Can I draw a conclusion? I believe I can, and I don’t care if it’s dictated by my gut feeling more than by reason: Stella is honest with me.Debate closed.
Her fingers are now running in little circles over the bandage covering my rose and ribbons tattoo.
She gazes into my eyes and strokes her way back to my chest. “So, tell me, Sir Darrel Vlovsky, ex-military, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a bodyguard.”
“Assuming it’s true, were you at work when you fell into that crevice? Who were you guarding?”
“It’s classified.”
