Indecent...Desires (10 page)

I'm not sure I would give someone a chance to explain, if I'd bared myself to them, told them all my most indecent desires, and then found out they were seeing someone else. I'd be too humiliated, too disappointed, too…angry.

‘You've ruined it, you stupid cow,' I berate myself out loud. I push myself into a sitting position. I don't deserve to wallow in self-pity.

It's then that I notice that the lights are on in Lucas's flat. I scramble off the bed, move over to the window on legs that are shaky and unsteady. I press my hands to the glass, looking for movement, for any sign of him.

And then he moves into the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed, buries his head in his hands, and in my desperation I hammer on the glass and yell his name. ‘Lucas!'

But of course he can't hear me. He is too far away. The sensible part of my brain tells me to go straight over to his flat and ring the buzzer until he lets me in, but I can't bear to have him out of my sight, not even for the few brief minutes it would take me to get there. And what if he won't let me in? I don't think I could bear that either.

I have to get his attention somehow. I scoot over to the wall and switch my bedroom light on. The room is instantly illuminated and I know Lucas sees it, because his head jerks up. He stares at me. His face is cold, his cheekbones even more pronounced. He looks like he's been crying.

I don't know what to do. I stand where I am, my heart pounding too fast, too loud, my stomach in freefall. I did this to him, and now I don't know how to make it right. I don't know if I
can
make it right. Everything, now, is out of my control. Only Lucas can decide if he is willing to hear me out, to forgive me. There's nothing I can do.

Or maybe there is. Something he did for me so many, many times. I scramble over to the window, and then I reach for the zip in the back of my dress and pull it down, my anxious fingers making slow, painful work of it. The fabric loosens its grip on my breasts, my stomach, and I slowly ease it down over my arms, my hips, until it meets the floor and I am left standing in only my underwear and heels.

It's not even good underwear. An ugly strapless bra and big, belly-squeezing pants. And yet Lucas is moving over to his window, his gaze intent on me, watching me as I throw away my privacy and dignity. This is the only way I can think of to make him understand, to show him what is between us.

My bra is next to go. I drop it on top of my dress, an untidy pile in my otherwise tidy bedroom. Then I move over to the little table that sits beside my bed. I slide open the drawer, and take out the vibrator I've never had the nerve to use on myself. I used it on Lucas, and he used it on me, but I've never used it like this, purely to please myself.

I sit back on the bed, ease the buzzing shaft between my legs and lose my breath as the first wave of pleasure surges through me, made all the more intense by the fact that I know Lucas can see me. There's a remarkable sense of calm acceptance as my clit starts to throb and a corresponding wave of wet heat moistens my pussy. If this is over, if I have destroyed my chance of having Lucas Brady as my own, I will move on. It will hurt, but I will get there. And I will never settle for anything less than him ever again.

On the other side of the street, Lucas stands, watching me, his hands clenched into fists by his sides.
Why is he standing like that?
I wonder.
Why does he look so tense?
Am I making him angry? Does he want me to stop? All he has to do is walk away, put an end to this. I will understand.

But he doesn't. Then it dawns on me. He wants to touch himself. But he isn't, because I haven't given him permission. I thought I had ended the game. Maybe I had. And maybe, just maybe, when I turned on my bedroom light and exposed myself to him, I started a new one. I spread my legs wider, ease the wet gusset of my knickers to the side, exposing my pussy. Then I touch the vibrator to my clit. The direct contact makes me squirm and jerk, so I do it again, and then I find my hole with the tip of the shaft, and I slowly, slowly ease it home. My entire body fills with the pulsing buzz of the toy as I look at Lucas, lift my free hand, and beckon him over.

I'm not sure how I make it to the door to let him in, but I do. He stands there, filling my doorway, watching me with wary eyes as though he's not quite sure how this is going to play out.

But I do. ‘Lucas,' I say. ‘I'm sorry. I should have told you that I'd agreed to go out with him. But nothing happened. I want you to know that.'

‘I understand,' he says, swallowing hard, not meeting my gaze. ‘I get it, Meredith. Seriously, I do. I'm twenty-four, for Christ's sake. I was an idiot to think you would be interested in me.'

‘I am interested in you!' My voice is shrill, loud, and it makes my head hurt. ‘Martin Banks was a mistake. I agreed to go out with him and then I didn't know how to get out of it. I wanted to. You have to believe me.'

‘Martin Banks told me that you'd been flirting with him for weeks,' Lucas says coldly. ‘You chased him, Meredith.'

‘I made a mistake.' More than the one, if I'm honest. I turn away from the door, suddenly ashamed by my state of undress, by that extra seven pounds, by my tummy-control knickers and the big vibrator in my hand.

Lucas follows me inside, closes the door behind him. ‘Was I a mistake?'

I stop where I am. I wrap my arms around my breasts. ‘Why are you here, Lucas?' I ask, my voice faint. He's so close, I could touch him, but it seems that we still have things to resolve before we can take things that far. ‘Why are you here with me, after what I've done?'

‘Because…' He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Because I've never met anyone like you before. Because when I fantasised about being bossed around by an older woman, I never actually thought it would happen, and I certainly never imagined it would be someone like you.' He drops his hand to his side. ‘I didn't realise I would fall in love.'

‘Lucas,' I say. ‘Oh, Lucas.'

‘I know I'm too young for you,' he says. ‘I know I can't offer you any of the things that he can.'

‘I only want you,' I say, digging my hands into the front of his shirt. God, he's so warm and strong and he smells so fucking good. Just being near him makes me feel calm and insanely aroused all at the same time. ‘And…' I stop myself just in time.

His fingers meet my chin and tip my head up. ‘And what?'

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, a fierce flush as I face this final moment of truth. ‘It doesn't matter,' I say. I can't meet his gaze. It's enough to have him here, I tell myself. He is enough. I won't screw this up by asking him for things I know he won't want to give me, not on my timescale, anyway.

‘Yes, it does,' he says. ‘This won't work if we can't be honest with each other, Meredith.'

And that's the crux of it, isn't it. Honesty. ‘How did you get to be so smart?' I say, trying to smile.

‘I'm self-employed,' he says. ‘I watch a lot of Oprah. So come on, tell me what it is. Whatever wicked fantasy it is, you can share it with me, Meredith.'

I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. I know it's time for me to put something out there, something of me, and accept that I have no control over the consequences. What happens now is up to Lucas. ‘I…' I try to breathe, but it's difficult. ‘A baby,' I mumble. ‘I want a baby. I want to be married, and I want to have a family. It's not exactly naughty.'

My whole body goes tense, as I wait for him to walk back out the door. But he doesn't. He moves closer, instead. ‘Fuck, Meredith,' he says. ‘I'll give you a baby, if that's what you want.'

‘But you're twenty-four,' I point out.

‘So?'

‘By the time you're ready for that, I'll be too old.'

‘You're only thirty-four,' he points out, and when he puts it like that, it doesn't seem so old after all. It seems like nothing. ‘And who says I'm not ready now?'

‘And I suppose you won't always be twenty-four,' I say, thinking it through. At some point, this beautiful young man is going to be thirty, forty, seventy. And if I am lucky, I am going to get to watch him get there.

‘No,' he agrees. ‘So you better make the most of it while you can.'

I cup his face in my hands. ‘I love you,' I say. ‘You are the most incredible man I ever met, Lucas Brady, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but I was too scared.'

His arms come around me. ‘Scared of what?'

‘Scared that I'd tell you and you'd laugh at me. Beautiful twenty-four-year-old men don't commit themselves to thirty-four-year-old divorcees.'

‘Sexy thirty-four-year-old divorcees don't commit themselves to twenty-four-year-old men,' he points out. ‘We're too young, too feckless, too irresponsible.'

My hands find his shoulders, and I drape myself around him. I can feel the thick ridge of his cock pressing against the softness of my belly. ‘Have you done something feckless, Lucas?'

‘Yes,' he says, his breath a hot whisper against my neck. ‘I deserve to be punished. Please punish me, Meredith.'

‘What did you do?' I ask.

‘I fell in love with an older woman,' he replies. ‘It's wrong of me, I know. But I couldn't help myself. She's beautiful and clever, and she makes me so fucking horny.'

‘Then perhaps you should take off your clothes,' I say. ‘So that she can decide how best to punish you.'

He strips hastily, baring that lean torso and that flawless skin and the hard jut of his cock. I walk slowly around him, letting my fingers trail over his body, loving his warmth, the way his muscles quiver under my touch, the way he groans when I introduce the palm of my hand to his arse.

I move back to face him again, trail my hand over his chest, down his stomach, until I reach his cock, then I wrap my fingers around it in a firm, possessive grip. ‘Come with me,' I say. I lead him into my bedroom, position him in front of the window, sideways on. The light is on, but I turn it off. I have a different sort of punishment in mind for him today. Leaving him there, I lean over and open the window.

‘I want you to touch yourself,' I say. ‘Do you understand?'

‘Yes,' he says, his voice quivering with excitement.

‘I've opened the window,' I tell him. ‘So you need to be quiet. Is that clear?'

He nods. I circle him slowly, then, letting my nails scrape over his nipples, his balls. I want him hard and aching and desperate, begging me to let him come. His hands clench into fists at his sides. ‘You are not to make any sound,' I say. ‘No matter what happens. And you are not to come.'

One large hand wraps around his thick length and starts to pump. He lifts the other to his mouth, licks it, and then starts to work himself two handed.

‘You like to be watched,' I say.

He opens his mouth, as if to speak, but stops himself at the last minute.

‘Dirty boy,' I say. ‘Letting people see you behaving like this.' And then I do something I can't believe I'm doing. I pick up my hairbrush from the table at the side of the bed. I test its weight in my hand, and then I spank him firmly on the arse with it.

His whole body jerks, and he bites down on his bottom lip. His pleasure is almost palpable, full of joy, and it turns me on more than I can even begin to describe. I spank him again, on the other arse cheek, adding a matching pink glow to that side. God, this is wrong. I know it is. It isn't about punishment, not really. I'm spanking him simply because I like it. And because he likes it.

He is mine to control, to do with what I will, and that realisation humbles me. He is trusting me with something very precious, this beautiful man. That is why, when I hear his first mumbled ‘I need to come,' I set down the brush.

‘I told you to be quiet,' I remind him, as I kneel on the bed, my back to him. ‘Now come here, and fuck me.'

I place my hands on the mattress, angling my hips up. Strong hands find my backside, grip it firmly, then I feel the thick head of his cock nudging my slit. ‘You are to fuck me until I come,' I tell him. ‘You are to stay quiet, and you are not to come.'

He settles himself in closer behind me, giving me another inch of his thick length. I'm so wet that I can feel moisture making its way down my thighs. ‘You may begin,' I instruct him. And begin he does. ‘Harder.'

He thrusts more, deeper, but I sense that he is still holding back, and I can't have that. ‘Harder,' I say again. And this time, he obeys me, fucking into me with a fierce desperation that makes me scream. Still, he stays silent, as I give in to the rising urge in my body and cry out every surge of pleasure, as he fucks me so deep and so hard that I am not sure where I end and he begins. And then, unbidden, he wraps a hand around my waist and reaches between my legs and caresses my aching, sensitive clit, and I would berate him for it but he does it with such exquisite tenderness that I am quite undone.

He is caring for me,
I think to myself.
He loves me.
It seems unthinkable, but I know it to be true. I know it without question, that when he holds himself back like this, he is thanking me for making him. ‘I'm coming,' I say. ‘Fuck, Lucas. I'm coming.'

‘I know, darling. I know.'

And as the wave hits me, I remember one thing. ‘You can come, Lucas.' And then I am lost, drowned in the depths of the fierce bond between us, as I feel him spurt hot and thick inside me, filling my pussy with his lovely thick semen, fulfilling my most indecent desire. ‘You're not wearing a condom,' I whisper, as he rests his head on my back, his fingers tangling with mine.

‘I forgot,' he says lazily. ‘Give me half an hour, and I might forget again.'

‘I'll have to punish you,' I warn him.

‘Yes,' he says. ‘I think that you will.'