Read Beauty and the Dark Online
Authors: Georgia Le Carre
GEORGIA LE CARRE
Noah Abramovich
“Boys will be boys, young men must sow their wild oats,
and women must not expect miracles.”
- Little Women, 1869
T
asha Evanoff! Blonde, blue eyes, plump mouth, and skin so white, it’s almost blue, until summer comes, then, it turns wheat-gold.
What the fuck is
she
doing at the door of my office?
For a
fraction of a second I actually think I must be dreaming. How can I not be? In that frozen instant I hear babushka’s throaty old voice again.
‘Listen carefully to me, Noah. The moment a newborn baby emerges into the harsh light of this world, it loses its magic. It adjusts and plays the game of life, but the powerful desire for the return of its magic never goes away. The urge sits beyond the reach of memory and waits, because sometimes if a man is very, very lucky, his magic will cross paths with him again.’
Tasha Evanoff is my magic.
Not a living soul knows this, but I have secretly lusted after her for years. I forced my eyes not to follow her around her father’s magnificent living rooms, or stare at her beautiful bikini-clad body lying on the sun lounger by the pool because I knew our worlds were never meant to collide.
Today she has wandered unbidden into mine.
Closing the door, she leans seductively
against it, her sexual energy radiating across the room. She is dressed exactly the way I expect the daughter of an obscenely rich and corrupt man to dress. A flawlessly cut, knee-length white dress teamed with a soft-pink cardigan, and low heeled, round-toed, immaculately white pumps. Her only adornments are a subtle string of dusky white pearls grazing her throat, and velvet black clips holding her shining curtain of shoulder-length hair back from her face.
The intention behind her choice of attire is obviously not erotic. Virginal even, but the sexual tension coming from her fizzes between us like a bottle of shaken champagne. It puts my nerves on high alert.
I stand.
‘Hello, Noah,’ she drawls. Her father is a Russian bastard, but her mother comes from British blue-blood stock and her accent is pure upper class.
‘Why are you here, Tasha?’ I ask. My body is taut and hormones are buzzing all over the place, but my voice comes out flat and devoid of all expression.
‘Surely, you’re going to allow me to sit first,’ she says with a hint of irritation.
‘Of course.’ I wave towards the chairs opposite my desk.
She walks towards the chair on the left, slips into it, and puts her knees firmly together. Her eyes are beautiful blue stars, the pupils, dark pits of nothing.
Would you like a drink?’ I offer politely.
‘Thank you, no,’ she refuses, then she thinks better of it. ‘Actually, yes, I will have one.’
‘What can I get you?’
Her gaze flickers over me. ‘Um … cognac if you have it.’ And after a slight pause, ‘Make it a double.’
I walk to the bar and feel her eyes burning into my back as I automatically pull a glass from the cabinet. My mind is churning. I grab the cognac bottle and uncap it. One thing is for sure: She didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood.
I tilt the bottle and pour out a generous measure.
I try to think why she is here and I cannot imagine any reason she could possibly have for coming to my office at this time of the night. I wipe the frown from my forehead and turn around. Casually, I walk up to her and hold out the drink.
She lets her fingers brush mine as she takes it. Of course, they are as befits the pampered daughter of a dangerous man, silky soft.
‘Aren’t you having one?’ she asks, one eyebrow arched.
‘No.’ My voice sounds thick and strange.
‘Oh,’ she exclaims, gazing up at me.
It’s like looking down at an angel or an apparition. It has a hypnotizing almost paralyzing effect on me, probably because I’ve never been this close to her before. I struggle with the crazy urge to grab her and devour her sulky mouth.
Fuck! I need to put something between us. I walk around my desk and sit down. Silently, I watch her drain the glass. The way her white throat moves as she swallows, the movement so erotic my cock stirs. She clasps the empty glass loosely in her lap and looks at it. The silence stretches between us.
Odd. Tight. Strained.
But I hold my tongue. Let her break it.
Finally, she looks up. ‘I’m … getting … married in six months,’ she says quietly.
I already knew that little fact, Tasha.
You’re marrying the good-for-nothing son of a psychopathic billionaire.
It’s a marriage brokered in hell by her fat fuck father, a thoroughly ugly and detestable man. If he knew she was here it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Blood on the floor would be the least of it.
I say nothing and she fixes me with those unnerving eyes of hers.
‘Well, anyway, I thought that before I settle down I’d like to try life a little.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I can’t fucking believe she’s going where I think she’s going.
‘Yeah. I want you to have sex with me tonight,’ she says very quickly into the tense air.
Noah Abramovich
M
y entire body reacts to her words. My heart hammers in my chest and blood races so fast into my cock it hurts, but years of training keeps my face poker straight. Until today she has never even so much as looked in my direction and now she wants me to fuck her. Something’s not right. I steeple my hands on the table.
‘You might need to explain yourself a little bit more.’
She gives a one-shoulder shrug, a careless, elegant, infuriating movement. ‘What’s to explain? I want us to … fuck.’ The Princess had to struggle to get that last word out.
‘Why?’
‘Because … because I want to be … taken by someone like you.’
Like me.
Now, I get it. The spoilt, bored rich girl is going to become the spoilt bored wife of a spineless fool, but before she submits to that endless boredom she wants to experience something dirty with someone from the wrong end of town.
The Princess wants to be a slut for one night. And the person she has chosen is me. I lean back in my chair and let my eyes roll all over her. Well, well, well. All that untouchable beauty just laid out for me to soil and dishonor.
‘What makes you think I want one night with you?’
Her smooth brow crinkles. ‘Don’t all men want a no strings, dirty night with a perfect stranger?’
I stare at her. This is what happens when you shelter your daughter to death.
She mistakes my silence for reluctance. As if any man in his right man would refuse her. Swallowing hard she straightens her spine as steely determination sparkles in her eyes. She has, after all, come from her father’s loins.
‘There will be no consequences to you. No one will ever know. After tonight we will probably never meet again, and even if we do it will be as if this night never happened.’
‘Where does your father think you are now?’
She licks
those lips that I want to bite. ‘In my bed. Asleep.’
As if my lustful thought has transferred to her, her white teeth sink into her bottom lip. I inhale sharply. Pure lust is a powerful, bewitching thing. I have always detested weak people whose only excuse for doing things they shouldn’t is:
It was the moment. I simply couldn’t help myself.
In that instant I get what they are talking about. Every cell in my body is screaming at me not to take the poisoned chalice, but as if she has cast a spell on me, I stand up, walk around the desk like a zombie, and hold out my hand.
She wants dirty sex.
I know
all
about that.
Sure I’ll give her a night so dirty her toes will curl. I’ll make it so unforgettable that in years to come while her husband’s half-flaccid dick labors inside her, she will close her eyes and remember my cock thrusting inside her.
A glimmer of a smile appears on her lips. She puts her hand in mine, I tug at it, and she allows herself to tumble against my body. Her body is softly curving and immediately molds itself into the hardness of mine. Her perfume rises up and fills my nostrils. I breathe it in. It’s been a long time, in fact, I can’t remember the last time a woman could disarm me in this way.
But she only wants dirty sex with you. She is yours only tonight.
‘Are you wet?’ I ask, my voice harsh.
She shakes her head, her eyes huge.
My eyebrows rise. ‘You sure about that?’
‘Yes.’ Defiant.
Without warning I grab her round ass and stick my other hand under her chaste dress. She struggles, but I tighten my hold, making her efforts puny and useless. Her eyes flash as my hand slips beneath her panties and touches her bare pussy. I plunge two fingers into her cunt. She gasps and goes rigid.
‘Then …’ I extract my fingers from inside her. ‘What the fuck is this?’ I ask softly as I wipe my fingers on her downy cheek.
Her amazing eyes flicker.
I bend my head and lick her cheek where I smeared her slick juices. She tastes like musky honey. Unforgettable. I already know I’ll miss her taste when she leaves in the early morning hours. Deeply inhaling the scent of her I force my tongue into her mouth. At first she doesn’t do anything, and then she starts to suck it.
Fuck, this woman drives me
crazy.
I withdraw my tongue and look at her. My cock is straining against the zipper of my jeans.
‘You’re never going to have another night like this so no more coy games and no more lies tonight, understood?
’
She nods silently.
‘Are you wet?’
‘Yes.’
‘How wet?’
‘Dripping,’ she says hoarsely.
I smile faintly. ‘Will you do anything I ask tonight?’
‘Yes. Anything.’
Tasha Evanoff
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6G10QgJm1o
Wet
H
e steps away from me suddenly and I feel as if someone just replaced my kneecaps with Rowntree jelly sweets. He walks to his desk, leans his slim hips against the edge and crosses his arms over his chest.
Under the overhead light his black hair glints, but his eyes are shadowy and hooded, impossible to tell the expression in them, but I feel their sultry gaze unhurriedly travel over my body. Raw, feral animal magnetism rolls out of him in waves that hit me and bring a rush of heat to my belly. I become as vulnerable and exposed as if I am naked.
‘Take your panties off.’ His voice is pleasant, but throbs with heat.
My breath speeds. Surely he doesn’t mean for us to do it here. Maybe he imagines he can degrade me as if I was some sort of prostitute he has hired for the night just because I offered my body. I won’t have it. My spine straightens.
‘Are we going to … um … do it here?’
‘No.’
‘Then why?’
He remains motionless. ‘Because I want you to.’
No one has ever spoken to me with such fearless disrespect, uncaring if they might hurt my father’s feelings. A thrill of excitement goes through me. The air crackles with sexual tension as I slowly, deliberately, slip my hands under the hem of my dress and drag my underwear down my legs. I let them fall to the ground and step out of them.
‘Bring them to me,’ he barks.
I bend down, pick up the lacy scrap, and dangling them on one finger walk up to him. He puts his hand out, the palm outstretched and I drop the lace into it.
He smiles, his eyes smooth like wet marble, the skin at the outer corners crinkling. He blinks—he has eyelashes a girl would kill for—and my breath catches in my throat. I feel as if he’s cast a magic spell on me. I can hardly think. The air seems thick and every breath I suck in is difficult and noisy.
The intoxication is so complete I don’t see what he does with my underwear. One moment he is holding it and the next his empty hand is touching my lip. The skin on his thumb is rough.
‘Tasha Evanoff,’ he breathes softly.
My lips part.
His hand gently releases my clips. ‘You won’t need any of these where we are going.’ The clips fall noiselessly to the carpet.
He tunnels his hand into my hair, fists it at my nape, and pulls so the curve of my throat is exposed to him. My belly tightens with the look of pure lust that comes into his eyes. He pulls me toward him with a fierceness that startles me. I fall onto his hard body and stare mesmerized up into the scorching depths of his black eyes. Feverish excitement races through me. Between my legs I glow and pulse. Lord, I’ve
never
wanted a man like this.
‘Fuck, there is not enough of the night left for what I want to do to you,’ he says suddenly, and in one smooth movement straightens, pulling me upright with him.
He phones someone called Viktor and tells him to pick him up at the backdoor. Then we go out through the back of his nightclub, my body stiff with tension. Sometimes his hand arrives on the small of my back to guide me in the right direction. He puts out a big hand and pushes open the double doors of the kitchen. Every man in that kitchen gapes at the sight of Noah and me. I guess he doesn’t make a habit of going out through the back with his women. Outside it is chilly and I shiver.
‘Cold?’ he asks, looking down at me
‘A little.’
A car is waiting, and the driver, presumably Viktor, is standing beside the open back door. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of me before he blanks them of all expression. I wonder if he has recognized me, but it is extremely unlikely. My father keeps me well out of his world. I thank him and get in while Noah walks around to the other side and slides in beside me.
‘Turn the heating up,’ he tells the driver.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper.
He turns to look at me, his strong cheekbones catching the light from the streetlamps and the look in his eyes makes me lick my lips.
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