Authors: Lena Black
I clasp my hands around the back of his head and massage softly.
“That wouldn’t have been a problem. I would’ve crushed hard on you like every other girl in a hundred mile radius.”
“But it’s you I would choose. It does
n’t matter what age I found you. I would choose you every time.” He gently pecks my forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin. I turn a bright red. I didn’t blush before him, and now I act like a fresh, innocent virgin, never having felt a man’s intimate touch.
“We should go. I don’t like being late,” Hunt states.
He moves away, reaching his hand out to mine. I clasp on, and he leads us to the elevator downstairs. When we enter and the doors shut, my pulse begins to quicken, and I become lightheaded. I’m already raring for him. The confined space only heightens my urges. I want him right here, right now.
Reading my antsy body language, Hunt’s lips find mine in a fiery blaze of passion and lust. He t
akes them with a thirst I match as our tongues dance and swirl together.
His hands cling frantically to the back of my neck and curve of my rear. Our bodies grind into each other as they flourish under one another’s eager touch. I place shaky hands on his wide, solid shoulders and leap up. I cradle my legs around his waist, and his stiff cock presses into my aching cleft, pining for his masterful thrusts.
He slams me into the wall, his body pinning mine, cock grazing my black lace panties. Damian’s mouth wanders to my neck, kissing, biting, and licking his way down to the collarbone. I throw my head back, and my mouth goes slack. His arms fold around my lower back, holding me so tight I feel his rapid heartbeat against mine.
In
this consuming, private moment the doors slide open, and I’m wide-eyed, staring into Liam’s serious gray gaze. His expression is collected, seemingly unfazed by the two horny, teen-like adults sucking face in front of him.
I quickly jump off and shove Hunt away,
fixing myself. Damian snatches me by the waist, bringing me back to his side, with a cocky grin plastered on his face, staring at Liam.
“
Banks,” he says with a nod of the head and guides me out of the elevators.
“Mr. Hunt,” he greets him, also with a tip of the head.
Damian walks us to a pearl white Cadillac town car with tan interior and opens the back-passenger side door for me. Before climbing in, I kiss him on the cheek. He shuts my door and strides around to the other side. Liam holds his door ajar for him and he slides in next to me, seizing my hand in-between us. His fingers grasp tightly, lacing them with mine.
“Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t leave you yet. I’m not ready.”
There’s a ghost of a grin on his pensive face, eyes shadowy pools of hurt.
“Why are you sad, dark prince?”
Liam gets in and whisks us off to the airport.
“I’m afraid of being away from you, of losing you to my past. I’ve never been this terrified to lose something, someone. Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m incredibly happy you’re with me. I can’t stop thinking about you even when I’m with you. I want to be with you forever…Do you comprehend what I’m saying, Gabrielle?”
I comprehend, but how does he want me? Of course I hope as his wife, but I’m unsure of his stance on marriage. I don’t know what he expects.
I peer down at the hand he holds onto, gently rubbing my ring finger. I imagine a ring, a symbol of our love and commitment to one another, adorning it.
I glance back at his wretched face and it’s plastered to mine. “You want to be with me for the rest of your life. How?”
He examines me in confusion. “What do you mea
n how? You choose to be with me and I with you.”
I shut my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. How do we live out our days?”
He gets a look of clarity. “Married, of course. Then you’ll justly belong to me.”
I realize
then, he won’t consider me truly his until I bared the name Hunt.
Gabrielle Hunt does have a nice ring to…what am I thinking? I need to get a hold of myself. We haven’t even moved in together yet. Not that it would be right to even consider moving in right now. I need time to think. Maybe after the trip I can take a little time to organize my thoughts and figure out what I want and how fast.
He interrupts my contemplation, “I
’m not opposed to lascivious cohabitation, but I prefer to make it official ASAP.”
“Damian, we’ve just spent our first weekend together. You need to slow down. I can’t keep up!”
He appears affronted.
But he craves so much, far too hastily. Why won’t he listen to me when I tell him this?
I glower out the window at the Monday hustle, taking in long, steady breaths, attempting to calm down before I say anything else.
“Don’t pretend as if you don’t want the exact same thing. You’re worried about what your fucking friends and family will say. I refuse to live by what they think is appropriate. I can see it in your eyes, in the way your body moves, in the way you kiss me. You’re mad for me, as I am you. Stop fighting it.”
“I’m not worried. Oh no…I’m goddamn petrified,
and it’s not by what people think, but by how
you
make me feel. I’ve never felt this intensely for someone before
. I’m scared
of losing you. This is too good to be real, and like you, I expect the other shoe to drop
. I’m scared
of losing myself, something I worked really hard to find after that cocksucker took any sense of self I had.
I’m scared
my past’s in the present more than I like to admit. Above all, I’m gut-wrenchingly terrified you’ll open your eyes and discover I’m not as fabulous as you seem to think I am.”
“I’m scared, too. Let’s be scared, together.” He grips my chin and kisses me so hard my lips burn. He parts slightly to say, “I’m not blind to who you are. You’re an intelligent, talented, strong, compassionate woman, who makes me want to drop to my knees and adore every inch of her inside and out. Elle, I see you, body and soul. I love
all
of you with everything I possess, and I promise to give you all of me, forever. As long as I have breath in my lungs or blood pumping through these veins, I won’t give up on you. I would die for you, Gabrielle.
My Gabrielle
.”
He slinks his arm around me and culls me into him,
which is how we remain the rest of the ride.
W
e arrive at the airport and drive right onto the tarmac, where I notice the monstrous Boeing-757 waiting…For us? The front half of the vessel is white and the tail end is black, cut diagonally down the center. What catches my eye is the huge black D and white H painted at the midpoint mark where the inverted colors divide.
Damian is the light I strive to bask in and Hunt is the darkness I struggle to escape from, both are my salvation.
Ironic
.
I glimpse at Damian and he’s grinning
from ear to ear.
“T
hat’s your plane?” He nods, gauging my reaction. “She’s stunning…You’re not a billionaire but like a
billionaire
.”
“I’m
not on the low end of the name. And if you decide to marry me, it’ll all be yours. Our children and future generations will be well taken care of.”
“Shit! Now were talking about kids?” I squeak.
“Yes, children usually come with the marriage package. That’s years down the road. I want time for only us. We can discuss kids once we’ve had a chance to settle into the relationship. I’m only letting you know where I stand. I’m putting my cards on the table and showing you my hand. You
do
want kids, right?”
A tiny piece to a big, complicated puzzle.
“Yes, someday. I would love for them to be yours. Little parts of us I can love and protect.”
“You’ll make an excellent mother one day. Now, let’s board the plane. We can talk more then.”
He slides out and goes around, opening the door for me. “Thank you,
Mr. Hunt.
”
“The pleasu
re is all mine, future Mrs.” I shoot him a look, and he shrugs. “Cocky, Hunt. You haven’t proposed, and I certainly have yet to accept.”
“As always, you make the chase quite fun.” He offers me his hand, assisting me out of the car and escortin
g me to the plane.
It’s amazing
. There’s a bar toward the front of the cabin, large flat screen TV’s and enough seating for a very large party. The décor is cream leather chairs and couches, black carpets, and dark woods. It’s a soaring version of The Artemis.
He motions to a chair,
and I take a seat. He selects a chair facing mine.
“Why don’t you sit next to me?”
“I want to watch you as we take off.”
“I would rather you’re next to me. I need to hold your hand.”
He rises and moves beside me, clasping my quaking palm and stares me straight in the eyes. “Are you afraid of flying?”
“No, I’m afraid of crashing and take off. I like the comfort holding your hand gives me,” I
reply as a gorgeous, auburn-haired flight attendant walks up to us.
“Mr. Hunt, we’re almost ready for takeoff.” She’s giving her biggest grin and gawking at him a little too long. He doesn’t notice because he’s too engulfed with gazing at me. “Can I get you
anything
?” she asks, emphasizing the last word.
“Would you like
anything
before we take off?” he asks me, allowing the word anything to roll of his skilled tongue. I shake my head, and he dismisses her. “We’ll take breakfast once we’re in the air. That’ll be all.”
She looks disappointed, hastily retreating and disappearing up front. The doors latch closed, and the engine comes to life. I’m getting nervous, and I have
a lump in my throat. I grip onto him tightly, and he places his other hand over them.
“Everything will be fine, gorgeous.” He gently strokes my white knuckles. “Let me strap you in.”
I reluctantly release his hand, and he reaches for my belt. He clicks the buckle together, binding me to the chair with the slightest smirk, and I realize he’s enjoying this. Once I’m fastened in to his liking, he secures his own.
The captain crackles onto the speaker, announcing we’re standing by for departure and the clear weather up to Seattle. The plane starts to creep along the runway, picking up speed rapidly. I take long breaths as my body’s forced back into the chair, vibrations from the plane lightly pulsing through me. My he
art drums anxiously in my chest with the occasional palpitation jolting me. My nails dig into the black leather armrest and Damian’s hand, but it doesn’t seem to faze him as he remains staid, relaxed even. I snap my eyes shut and focus on soothing myself. Suddenly, the vibrations stop as the wheels finally leave earth, and we climb into the skies.
In the clouds
I
follow Damian as he leads me down a short passage toward a door in the back. He opens it to reveal a rather spacious cabin. Larger than what you’d expect to find on an airliner. There’s a Queen-size bed against the back wall, cream leather couch to our right, and a seating area with a few chairs to our left, everything matching the front. I notice a small door next to the entrance and realize it’s a restroom.
“What are you planning on doing with me in here, Hunt?”
I lick my upper lip, and he peers at me with a dour gaze. “Not what you assume.”
He turns and locks the door.
“What, then?”
“I want privacy so I can ask you those questions regarding the cocksucker, as you so eloquently put it.”
“Now?”
“What better place than a plane? There’s nowhere for you to run and hide. You
must
answer me.”
“As if I wouldn’t anywhere else.”
“Would you care to have a seat?” He gestures to a chair in the corner of the room, and I saunter over to the bed, taking a seat at the end.
“Would you?” I ask, rubbing the spot beside me.
He decides on the couch and grabs cushion on the closest side to me. He crosses his ankle over his knee and places a hand on it, the other arm flung along the back of the couch.
“May I ask you a question before the interrogation?” I stare at him from under my lashes.
“Anything,” he replies, watching me absorbedly.
“If I answer these questions, will you tell me a piece of your past? You choose what you tell me.” Hunt remains frozen for a moment, staring at me with trepidation in his eye. “What better place than a plane where you can’t run and hide?”
He smirks at me and shakes his head. “Ok, smart-ass. I’ll tell you about me.”
“Great. Shoot, slick.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I was terrified if I did
he would kill me.”
His eyes burst open. “Why?”
I squirm. “He threatened he would if I spoke a word of it or attempted to leave.” I look down at my laced fingers, suddenly ashamed of my past.
“That answers my next question. Why didn’t you eventually tell
Julie or your parents?
“I didn’t want them to freak out and press charges. I didn’t want it to destroy how they saw me, replaced with a weak, pathetic figure.”
“Didn’t you want him to pay for what he did?” he asks, obviously annoyed.
“He did…with his miserable life. I’m free from fear, and I don’t need to fret about him coming back.”
“I’m thrilled he killed himself. He saved me the trouble of doing it myself.” I cringe at the thought. He continues his line of questioning. “What does Chase know about it?”
“Only what happened the night he found me.
I think he put it all together when saw me lying on the floor. He hated himself for not figuring it out sooner. He wanted to know everything, but I only told him what I thought he could handle. I couldn’t bear to make him feel worse, especially, when it wasn’t his fault.”
“It is partially
, Elle. You couldn’t possibly have been that skilled at hiding it.”
“It wasn’t as if I was strutting around naked in front of him, showing off the bruises, cuts, and bite marks!”
“Bite marks?”
“He enjoyed biting during sex.”
“Rape...You mean rape. Are you ever going to tell anyone else? The fucker
is
dead.”
“I still believe it would ruin relationships. How can I tell
Jules her saint of a brother was actually the devil? If I told her now, when his death is a fresh wound, she may flip out. I love her and refuse lose her to that monster, even if he is six feet under.”
“Why did you tell me?”
“I had an overwhelming need to do so. I wanted to show you my ugly truth.”
He
finally pauses for a moment, taking an abysmal breath.
“
Do you really want to know about my past?”
“Yes. It made you who you are.”
On cue his hand goes to the back of his neck, rubbing out the tension.
“I’ve had many things happen to me in my life, horrifying th
ings. I don’t want to discuss the details of my parent’s death or what my uncle did to me. I’m not ready to go into it. What I will say about him…he was an alcoholic abuser, not worth the shit on the bottom of my shoe. He was the reason I was messed-up by the time I went to live with the Montgomery’s. I didn’t trust anyone, and I refused to let them get close.
“When I was fourteen, I got into trouble with drugs and fighting because I was mad at the world and myself. I drowned
my demons with drugs, alcohol, and sex, which only made the situation worse for me…”
“Wait, Olivia wasn’t your first?”
“No,” he replies simply, not wishing to go into it. “May I continue?”
“Yeah, of course, sorry.”
“After my mother caught me with pills, they sent me away to rehab for six months. I’d received help for the addiction but not the rage. I was still angry when I came home…The night Olivia showed up I had planned to relapse, which is why I hadn’t attended the party with my family. I’d gotten my hands on some pills earlier that day and was contemplating taking them. That’s why I’d decide to go swimming and skipped the party, to clear my head and figure out if I really wanted to sabotage the work done in rehab and five months I’d been home.
“
When I came up for air, she was there like an answered prayer. As much as you hate her, she helped save me from myself. I’m not excusing everything we did, but it may give insight into why I did it.”
“I understand why you did, but I can’t fathom why she did. You were an angry, confused, and abused young man, a baby really. She was an adult and retained a better handle on her sanity. The fact she’s your sister is what really stumps me. How could you not see each other as siblings?”
He doesn’t look me in the eye.
“I didn’t really know her before my parent’s death, and she was living in New York when I moved in. She had a strained relationship with her family. The only other time she came home was when I was in rehab. I didn’t see her how I see
my little sisters. I just didn’t.
“
You’ll never really understand or accept it, and I don’t expect you to. How could you? It’s a completely fucked situation. My only concern is you don’t think or feel any less of me. And not just because of her, but my drug and behavioral problems as well.”
His han
ds glide through his hair as he glowers into nothingness, sorrow eclipsing his emerald eyes. I snap at him, trying to bring him back to me.
When he looks
, I say, “I do think and feel differently toward you. I have more respect and a better comprehension of who you are. I love the man I’m finding out about, emotional scars and all. I’ll never leave or think less of you for things you had no control over, mistakes you made…I’m curious about something.”
“
You, curious? Never.” I give him a look, pouting my lips. “Ok, sorry. What are you curious about, gorgeous?”
“You said Olivia wasn’t the one who introduced you to this lifestyle.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“
Would you like to tell me who did?”
“My col
lege professor.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. I can feel my cheeks burn as the shock washes across my face.
“Yo
u must understand, Elle, Marlena taught me how to control myself and everyone around me. These woman opened me up to the world, to a way of taking charge of my life.They helped me through everything I was dealing with
.
I participate in this lifestyle because I receive sexual fulfillment from the experience and it gives me a channel to direct my need to control and discipline you.”
“Do you feel your past has anything to do with your need to do so?”
“No, I don’t believe it has to do with those demons.”
He finally pauses, assessing my emotions. He stares
at me like a broken little boy.
How can he believe that his past has nothing to do with his control issues?
“But you said it was.”
“No, I said I have a greater understanding of the things in my life I can’t control, which in turn gives me a greater need to do so with everything else. Yes, I was referring to my past in regards to the uncontrollable circumstances. Nevertheless, I believe my need to dominate is innate. I’m a dominant man. It’s who I am, what I crave.”
I can’t believe he thinks that’s true. How does he not see the way it affected his development as a child?
I don’t want to bring it up. Not now anyway, so I ask, “Your professors name was Marlena?”
“Yes. However, I was never allowed to call her by her first name.”
“What did you call her?”
“She preferred Mistress or Professor
Devlin.”
“How old
were you when you started your affair with her?”
“I was nineteen.”
“How old was she?”
“She was
two years older than I am now.”
“Did you love her?”
“No. I respected and trusted her. I would even goes as far as to say I cared about her, but I did not love her. You are the only one.”
I sigh, relieved.
“How…”
“Gabrielle, I would love to go into this more, but could we give it a rest? I’m feeling drained.”
I have a million questions I’m desperate to ask, but I don’t want him to get scared and close up again.
“Sure, of course. I’m just curious.”
“I know, babe, and I’m going to tell you more, but we don’t have to do this in one conversation.” He rises and takes a seat next to me on the bed, caressing my cheek with a strong hand.
“I love you, Gabrielle.”
“I love you, too.”
“You’re everything I could ever hope to find in a woman and future wife.”
“Damian, I can’t talk about this now.”
“We aren’t going to. I’m only saying I can picture the possibility of a future with you.
I promise to ease up on marriage talk. I’m going to focus on you living with me for now.”
“I nee
d more time. I want to take some to think when we arrive home, maybe a night with the girls. I need to figure out what I want and when I want it.”
“You need to be away from me to think
?” he asks, slinking an arm over my shoulders.
“Yes.
With you I don’t think, I do, and it’s unhealthy.”
“Who says? I don’t think much about it, and I know what I want. I don’t need to
, because I feel it.” He sighs. “If you require space to figure us out, I understand, but I don’t like it.”
“I’m not asking for space. We’re together. There’s no thinking about that. I need to know if moving in this fast is right for me,
for us. Even if I decide I want to, it won’t happen right away, and I won’t give up my place.”
“As long as you give it serious consideration, I’ll give you all the time you need.”
“I’m taking one night away to get my thoughts in order and make a properly weighed out decision, then at the end of the week I’ll give you my answer.”
“I
think I can handle one night.” He leans in, planting a soft kiss on my eager lips. “We should head back to our seats. We’ll be arriving soon.”
I’m a little disappointed, and oddly enough, extremely randy. “What about joining the mile high club?”
Hunt laughs.
“Now isn’t the time. N
ot after the conversation we just had, but on the way back, definitely.”
“I look forward to it, Mr. Hunt.”
W
e arrive at Sea-Tac and head to his place in Hunt’s Point. Liam drives us in Hunt’s black Land Rover, Chopin serenading us softly over the speakers.
“Hunt’s Point? Was that intentional?”
He smirks at me. “No, it just happened to be where I found what I wanted. I do enjoy the coincidence. It has a nice sound to it, don’t you think?”
I chuckle. “Yes, very. How many properties do you own?”
“Personal or business?”
“Personal.”
“New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, Boston, Park City, Paris, two back home and a private island in the Caribbean. Nine, with a few more properties I’m waiting to acquire.”
“That’s preposterous. Why would
anyone need so many homes?”
“
A few are vacation homes, the rest for when I travel on business. I prefer not to stay in hotels. Less privacy.”
“Holy shit. That’s just…”
Hunt’s face is stern, lips set in a tight, straight line. “I won’t apologize for my hard work and reaping the rewards. I didn’t grow up wealthy like you. I earned it, and I’ll not be made to feel guilty about how I choose to live my life or where I choose to do it.”