The Gate (Dark Path Series) (27 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Max didn’t speak while he carried Erika up to his suite. He hurried out of the elevator and down the hall, almost dropping her as he unlocked his door. Her wheezing broke the silence. Her body vibrated, most likely from the force of her orgasm.

An orgasm I allowed another man to give her with his tongue in her cunt
.

The urge to beat Rosco almost overtook every logical thought in his brain. But he’d given his permission to test Erika. He hadn’t expected her to go that far, but she had. There was no choice for him but to erase the other male’s intimate kisses and touches on her body.

He set her in the shower, unmasking and stripping her. She stood in a daze while he paused to inspect her face. She was hot to the touch, her pupils dilated.
If someone drugged her….

He bit down on the inside of his cheek and cupped her chin, making her look at him. “Did you take something? Is that why you were so open to—?”

“No one gave me anything. I did it all on my own. I might be a little tipsy from the vodka I had with my juice, but I wasn’t drunk and could have stopped anytime.” Giggling, she ran her hands over his chest. “You look so sexy in your red shirt.”

He held her to him, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head. Keeping one arm around her, he turned on the hot water. Soon the room filled with steam, and he helped her into the stall. Yanking off his clothes, he joined her.

“I need to clean you.” When she nodded, giving him permission, he picked up the soap.

He washed her all over, from head to toe, scrubbing away the garish makeup and then stopping to clean between her legs, his soapy fingers slipped over her trimmed curls. His rage ripened again as a vision popped in his head of Rosco’s tongue moving over the bristled hairs there. Soap wasn’t going to cut it. He would have to go one step further.

Shutting off the water, he dried her and then himself. After wrapping them both in towels, he led her into is bedroom. “Lie on the bed.”

She looked like she would argue, but he kissed her hard, pressing her to the mattress.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

Entering the bathroom, he grabbed a shaving can, razor, and another towel. She stared up at the ceiling, wiggling her foot in impatience. If he’d been in a better frame of mind, he would have found that adorable.

“I’m going to shave your cunt. I can’t let you keep your bush, knowing another man has—”

“Okay, do it.” Perched on her elbows, she opened her legs.

Unfastening her towel, he kissed her stomach. He then laid the other towel under her. Shaking the can, he sprayed cream in his palm and wiped it over her mound.

“Keep still. I’ll be gentle and quick.” Grabbing one of her folds between two fingers, he swept the razor blade over her tender flesh.

She jerked her foot. He did one side, wiped off the razor on the towel then the other side. As hair fell away, pink plump lips were revealed. He wanted to nestle his nose between them, inhale her dampness, and devour her.

When he finished, he took his implements back into the bathroom, leaving them on the sink. He wetted a washcloth with warm water and came back over to his prone beauty to wipe any last residue away. When she was clean, he ran his fingers over the smooth skin. He kissed her stomach and navel then, with his thumbs, spread apart her lips and feasted there.

She pulled her knees up to her chest. He swept his palms under her ass, pressing her to his mouth. She tasted like the menthol from the shaving cream and his lips tingled as he sucked and kissed. His tongue rooted in deep, curving up and licking her clit, enjoying how her juices beaded there. He slurped, joining in the chorus of her moans.

He continued his ravishment by mouth, not stopping even when she wailed his name and came. Her juices coated his lips, and with each lick, she released more for his satisfaction. It wasn’t until she went limp did he cease his oral play.

He climbed up on the bed, wrapping his arms around her. Resting his cheek on her stomach, he stared at the wall, waiting for her next move.

“Do we talk now, or do we fuck?” She tapped his head.

I despise hearing that word from her mouth.
He balanced on his palms, crawling higher until they were nose to nose. Her legs came around his waist, his cock nuzzling her hairless cunt.

“Oh wow, that feels different.” She bit her bottom lip, groaning.

“Imagine what it will feel like with my dick in you.” He brushed his fingers over her forehead. “It’s not just fucking between us. You do know that?”

“Then what was that downstairs?” A blush stained her chest and her face.

As he rubbed his nose over her cheek, he ground his teeth “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

When she dug her heels into his back, shifting to her side, he moved with her. But she didn’t stop rolling and ended up straddling him. He held her waist. He couldn’t remember the last time he allowed a woman on top or let one ride him during sex.

“Then I guess we fu– um, have sex.” She ran her palms over his chest.

“There’s nothing more I would like to do.” He waited for her to lie on her back so he could continue.

“It’s my rules now, or I walk out of here. I want to be on top, and instead of me tied to the bed, you are. No negations.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. His response would either have him inside her or alone with no relief and her walking out of his life forever.

“What if I let you stay on top, but no bondage. Would you agree to it?” The last time he’d been tied up was when he was eighteen. From that experience, he would never go through it again. Not even with Erika.

“What if binding you saved our relationship and made me trust you again?” She circled her fingertip over his nipple. It tightened, and his cock twitched.

“If I agreed to your suggestions, we would move forward? I’ve forgiven you for your mistake with Chris.” There was no guilt in bringing up the other man who’d tried to steal her from him. She had come of her own free will. He just needed to bide his time. Perhaps he would make a concession and agree to some light bondage where he could always escape from the ties if he so chose.

She stared down at his chest, her hair hiding her face. She stopped her tracing, dropping her hand away. “Can I use a scarf on you?”

“Go get it. I’ll wait here.” He folded his hands behind his head, trying to remain calm, collected.

Climbing off him, she went to his dresser where he kept an assortment of toys, cuffs, and other instruments. Expecting her to bring a few of those special toys with her, as well as the scarf, his disappointment mounted when all she carried were condoms.

“We don’t need protection anymore,” he stated. “I’m clean and not fucking anyone else.”

Curling her fingers around the box, she nodded. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” She stared at him with raw honesty in her eyes. “I’m not fucking anyone else either. Just you.”

He exhaled loudly, all the tension and stress from the past few days leaving him. He held out his hand. “Come here, then. Take me.”

Dropping the box, she knelt on the bed, straddling him again. The scarf, a rather ordinary, one landed across his face. He didn’t pull it down but peeked over the edge to watch her kiss the head of his cock.

“You’re always hard.” She lifted up on her knees to slide down on him.

He gasped both in surprise and pleasure, his hands latching around her hips. “Next time warn a fellow.” He arched as her feminine muscles swallowed him. He’d missed the beautiful woman who compelled him to shout up to the sky in ecstasy. Fucking Erika was as close to Heaven as he could get.

“God, that’s so good.” She licked her lips, sitting over him. She didn’t rock or circle her hips. She sat there, staring down at him.

“Kiss me now,” he ordered. He needed to feel her mouth on his, to steal her breath away, taste her saliva mixed with his own. He wanted them to be one in every way.

“My rules tonight.” She slapped his stomach then eased up and down.

He fought to hold back his climax. He moved the scarf away from his face, but she wiggled up higher, grabbing the fabric. Smiling, she brought his wrists together, tying the silky bond around them.

He almost lost his arousal as she tightened the knot, looping it around the bottom of the headboard. It wasn’t tight at all. He could escape whenever he wanted.

“You know why I want you like this, right?” She dipped down, pressing her forehead to his.

“Yes, to give you all the control, making it seem like I have none.” He jerked up, causing her to gasp in pleasure.

“You’re such a bad boy. You need to be punished.” Grabbing his chin, she kissed him roughly, using her teeth to scrape and peck his lips.

He let her kiss him as she wanted, not joining in. She scratched her nails over his arms, marking him as hers. He wanted to laugh out in joy, but instead lifted his hips to make her fall apart and cry out his name—
only
his name.

Soon enough, Erika moaned, begging him to move faster. Not once did her mouth leave his, so he engaged a different type of kiss. One that caused her to rock faster over his cock. His tongue mimicked the sex act they did, circling, penetrating—just like his dick in her core. With tongue in her mouth and cock in her cunt, she wrapped around him, tugging on his hair, the sting causing that familiar tingle in his lower back.

He almost broke his bonds, but managed to grasp the iron columns, gyrating his hips, the one weapon he possessed besides his dick to make her come.

She rose up, bouncing hard, circling her pelvis. “Max,” she moaned.

Sweat trickled down his face and his chest as he stretched himself to the limit. He refused to find his pleasure before she did. He would outlast her even if they needed to go all night.

She fell forward, her movements growing sluggish. Whimpering, she dug her nails into his hips. “Come before me! I want to last!”

“No,” he said through gritted teeth. A sharp pain ran down the side of his neck.

She smashed her mouth to his, curving her arms around his face to block his vision. He lapped over her mouth, biting down, enjoying her grunt of pain. She counteracted with biting him back, and he tasted blood.

He wouldn’t last much longer. She linked their fingers together. Their eyes met.

“Erika,” he groaned.

“Max,” she gasped.

With a final thrust, they fell off that precipice…together.

Chapter Thirty

Finding the space next to him empty, he sat up. He caught sight of Erika, dressed in his wine colored shirt and jeans, sitting in a chair near the window. Snowflakes fell from the murky gray sky behind her.

“What time is it, and why are you dressed? Come back to bed, keep me warm.” He lowered the sheet to show off his ready and willing cock.

She didn’t obey his command. On her lap lay a bulky folder filled with papers. “It’s almost seven. I’m not going back to bed with you. I need to get home. I’m hoping no one has called the police looking for me since I didn’t leave a message or tell anyone where I went.”

“You mean Milton? I’m surprised the cops aren’t rushing in here to arrest me for snatching you.” He snorted, and moved to get up.

She lifted her palm. “No, stay where you are. Does Chris have any idea about this place?”

“He does. He’s been here before.” He smirked. “Convenient how he forgot to tell you.”

Eyes widening, she shook her head. “It looks like you aren’t the only one who has kept things from me.”

“I thought we were past keeping secrets from one another. We fixed everything last night—”

“Max, we’ve just touched the surface of what needs to be resolved between us. But I can’t now. I have to deal with my father’s wake, his funeral, and then the will, not counting I still have to pack for New Orleans—”

He bolted upright.
What the hell is she talking about?
“What do you mean New Orleans?”

Staring at the ceiling, she exhaled. “I’m going away for awhile. I’d planned the trip for the holidays, but after everything that’s happened, I moved it up. I leave next Monday.”

“You’re running away from me?” He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs. He wondered if he got on his knees and begged her to stay if she would.

Rising, she went to him, standing between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and set his cheek on her stomach.

“I need time to think about you.” She swept her fingers through his hair. “My future. About…Chris.”

He flinched upon hearing that bastard’s name and tightened his hold. He could have her lying under him, buried inside her in seconds if he so chose. But she would still leave, and he would be in an even worse place.

“When will you be back?” he asked, sniffing his shirt. Knowing his scent would be on her skin gave him some peace.

“I-I’m not sure. Not before the new year.” She backed away. “I’m asking you not to contact me. I need the time alone to evaluate my life.”

“Can I call you to check in? When you get your new phone, will you keep the same phone number as before?”

She tilted her head. “How did you know my phone’s missing?”

He sat back on his elbows, showing Erika how aroused he still was for her, and how easy it would be for her to climb on top of him again. “Milton told me he found your phone. He didn’t tell you he had it?”

“No, he didn’t.”

He tsked and shook his head, acting puzzled.

She rubbed her forehead. “I’ll make sure to keep my same number.” She grabbed her coat and the folder off the chair. “Please thank Catherine for keeping my clothes and belongings safe last night. She was…indisposed. Half awake. We didn’t have time to talk.” She dropped the folder on the bed.

Sitting up, he took her hands in his, peppering kisses on her knuckles. “I never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I’m not going to start now by trying to keep you here. But make no mistake, I’m not a patient man. There will come a point where we will see one another again.” He rubbed her palm across his cheek. “And when we do, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you.”

The Erika he’d met weeks ago would have blushed and stammered. The new Erika standing before him laughed and bent to kiss him. Her lips clung to his, their tongues tangling. He started to lie back on the bed, but she stepped away.

After pulling on her coat, she opened her bag, pulling out her inhaler. She shook it then dropped it on the bed. “I have a spare. But I don’t think I’ll need to use it anymore. Take care, Max.”

“You forgot something.” Grabbing the folder, he held it out to her.

“That’s for you. It’s fascinating reading.”

He opened it, cursing when the picture of Page stared up at him. He threw the entire thing across the room. The pictures and papers littered the floor.

She didn’t comment on his tantrum. He rose from the bed.

Shaking her head, she backed away. “I called a friend to pick me up. She should be here any minute. I told her if I wasn’t down by seven, she should call the police.”

“Shit, Erika, you think I would harm you?” Lifting his thumb to his mouth, he gnawed on his nail.

“You have it all wrong. I don’t trust myself. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be stuck in this fantasy world you’ve created and never want to leave.” She spread her arms wide. “We need to separate. It’s the best thing for both of us under the circumstances.”

“And what about Milton? Do the same rules apply to him?” Growling, he bit down on his nail. Blood trickled along the edge of his cuticle.

She gave him a sad smile, walking out of his bedroom and his suite without answering.

He didn’t follow her. He went over by the window, looking down below for her to appear. Minutes later, she crossed the street, climbing into a compact car and hugging the female driver. The car drove away.

He rested his palm on the glass, his reflection staring back at him. The snow fell fast, sticking to the window. Blood from his thumb dripped down the side of his hand.

He remained there until his blood pooled in the crook of his elbow and the urban horizon was a wonderland of white. He sat on his bed, snagged the scarf Erika had used on him, and held it to his nose, breathing in deeply. His foot landed on one of the pictures. Digging his heel into it, he twisted his foot until the photo crumpled from the force.

***

Roger Walsh’s funeral service was attended by many. Over a thousand had showed, but less were invited to the cemetery. Just family, close friends, and business associates. The day was a bright, sunny one, although brisk with snow on the ground. Erika huddled under her long black coat, Alyson and Kim standing on either side of her. Chris stood behind her, keeping his hands on her shoulders even when she tried to knock him away. But she let it go, not wanting to start a scene.

She didn’t shed any tears. She’d cried enough. For the past few nights, she would awaken, clammy and sweating, her cheeks damp with tears. She’d then end up in the shower, sitting on the floor of the stall while blistering hot water ran over her. Unable to sleep, she would lie on her couch, staring at her new cell phone, the urge to call Max causing her to shiver.

She missed him desperately, irrevocably. But she still didn’t text or call him.

The priest ended with some scripture about everlasting life and a soul’s final resting place. People paid their respects. All she wanted to do was go to bed and sleep.

“Do you want to wait until everyone has left, so you can say your final goodbye?” Alyson rubbed her back.

“No.” She hugged her friend. “I’ve said all my goodbyes.”

Kim wrapped her arms around her from behind, and she welcomed the support.

The women separated. Before she walked toward the limo, Chris pulled her in his embrace. She kept her arms at her sides, waiting for him to finish.

“The next time I can get away, I’ll come see you in New—”

“No.” She pushed him away. “I told you I need time to myself. You’re not welcome. Please respect my wishes.”

His mouth straightened into a taut line. “You can’t stay angry at me forever. We need each other.”

“It’s not the time or the place to argue.” She patted his arm. “We’ll be in touch by phone and emails. Okay?”

Before he could say anything else, her cell vibrated, and she took it out. A text message from Max popped up.

I’m here for you and always will be.

She scanned the area, her stomach flipping. Max stood next to his car, staring at her. She brandished her cell. He smiled but then stood up straight, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

“Erika,” Chris whispered from behind her. His front met her back, his hands coming around her waist.

She tore away from him, stumbling on the grass. Both Kim and Alyson looked back and forth between the two men.

She shook her head at Chris, showing him her phone. “I know what you did.” She didn’t expand on her statement, just walked away with both women toward the car. But she made the mistake of looking back.

The two men stared at one another, stiff and angry. Max said something to Chris, and when Chris stepped toward him, Max climbed into his car, started the engine, and drove away.

After climbing into the back of the limousine, she dug in her purse for her inhaler but remembered she no longer carried one.

Alyson grabbed her hand. “Do you want to talk about what happened back there?”

“No. I’m sick of talking.” She laid her cheek on the cold window, closing her eyes. Soon, her breathing returned to normal.

She didn’t acknowledge Kim, and least of all Chris when they got inside. She chose to ignore them all. Cursing herself ten times a fool, she typed in a message.

Thank you for coming.

She waited for him to text back. It never came.

Hours later while lying in bed, she almost sent another text, but held back. Hadn’t she told him she needed time?

She didn’t break down in tears. She was pretty much empty of them. Instead, she sat at her desk and started writing—a totally different story that didn’t feature an innocent little girl and her cat. It was about a sheltered, naïve woman, freed of her inhibitions by a bewitching man who had stolen her heart and soul.