She let out a low cry as he stroked her. “Now, please, now,” she begged. She felt wanton, as she never imagined she could. Sophia, you’re in a car, for God’s sake. She shooed the thought away.
“Sophia,” he moaned as she stroked up and down his length.
“Please, Ethan,” she rose onto her knees, positioning herself and put her hands on his shoulders for leverage.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said thickly and entered her with one swift thrust of his hips.
She threw her head back and gasped with pleasure.
“You are mine, Sophia. Mine,” he murmured as he held her hips, diving into her hard and fast.
She lifted her yellow-diamond eyes to meet the blistering azure of his gaze and ran the tip of her tongue over his lips. She licked his jaw.
He made a sound deep in his chest, a laugh and a groan combined as he lost himself in the pleasure, just as she was. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her deeply. Demanding and possessing, he thrust and fingered her.
The car moved slowly through traffic and they were oblivious to everything but themselves.
She pushed down the other side of her dress neckline and brushed aside her bra, grasping her breasts, offering them to him as she moved up and down, slowly.
“Jesus, Sophia,” he took a breast in his mouth and suckled.
Her face sank into the hollow of his neck. She kissed and nibbled him, deranged with the unexpected danger she felt from being exposed.
He pushed again.
“Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, Ethan.”
She bit his suit on the shoulder to muffle her shout of pleasure. She loved the feel of him inside, filling her. She tensed up as he groaned and thrust fiercely.
The pleasure tightened and spiked, rising high. Higher and higher. And burst, flooding her with heat and warmth, making her dizzy with its force.
Crazy. He held her tightly while she came back to herself. “Sophia,” he said, when he could find his voice. You are crazy, Ethan.
“Oh,” she gasped softly. “You are crazy. We are crazy.”
He drew back a little to look at her, with a smile on his face. She has telepathic powers.
She gazed at him dreamily, “You have no inhibitions, have you?”
“I do. But I lose control when I’m with you. I’ve never made love in a car.”
She stroked his beard, “Neither have I.”
The warmth of their lovemaking fogged the windows, and his mind started to thicken again along with his arousal, still inside her. He took her hand and kissed it. As he did so, his gaze strayed to the tinted window. “Curse it,” he blurted.
“What?” she demanded in a murmur, her forehead still on his shoulder. “What?”
“We have arrived,” he said, adjusting his trousers. “Here,” he extended a handkerchief to her and ran his fingers over her hair combing the wisps that had escaped her braid.
“It’s okay,” she said, stuffing his soiled handkerchief in her purse and picking up her gloves and coat from the floor of the Rolls Royce. She smiled naughtily at him, “You are debauching me, Mr. Ashford. I should be working. Instead, I’m having sex with you on the backseat of your car with your driver in the front, probably listening.”
He shook his head amused. “Of course he was not listening, Sophia. The glass is soundproof.”
The car parked in the garage and Wilkins got out and opened the door for her with an impassive face.
Sophia blushed and looked at Ethan, who just laughed and whispered in her ear, “I can assure you he doesn’t know what happened here. Come on, baby, let’s move this to the bed.”
“Ethan, Ethan,” she shook her head at his eagerness and exited the car with a bright smile on her face.
5.35 p.m.
Sophia waited for Ethan in his sitting room. She pulled 1984 from the shelf and leafed through it.
Ethan approached her from behind and put his arms around her and inhaled her scent. “You smell so good, my darling. What are you reading?” He perused the book over her shoulder, “George Orwell?”
“I read this book when I was very young. It made a huge impression in me. Do you remember the book well?” She turned in his arms to watch his face.
“Yes. Why?”
“Room 101. Have you ever imagined being in a room with your worst fear?”
He looked at her askance, “No. Never. Why, Sophia, I don’t even know what my worst fear is. Not rats, for sure,” he chortled.
“Mine is moths and butterflies.”
“You’re kidding,” he laughed this time. “I don’t believe it.”
“I’m serious. I loathe butterflies and moths. That’s why I said earlier today that I didn’t wear jewelry depicting these insects. That room was the most effective and horrible torture I could ever imagine undergoing,” she shuddered.
Ethan hugged her, “Don’t worry, darling, no one is going to torture you.”
Chapter 6
London, The City, Victoria Embankment.
The City of London Bank Headquarters.
Wednesday, January 20th, 2010.
10.10 a.m.
Alistair Connor MacCraig entered the meeting room from the connecting door of his office. The room was empty. He looked at his vintage Patek Philip Perpetual Calendar Moonphase.
Wales is already ten minutes late. Alistair didn’t do late. He opened the door to the reception room, looked around and noticed the back of two heads, one dark, one fair, inclined close together, engaged in an intimate conversation. He motioned for his personal assistant to come in. “MacKeenan, could you please let Mr. Wales know that he is late while I start the meeting?”
Sophia looked at her watch and whispered to Edward, “I hate waiting.”
“Heavens, Sophia. It’s only been ten minutes.” He smiled at her. “How did you cope with Gabriela’s pregnancy?”
Her hazel eyes sparkled and the corners of her lips twisted. “Perfectly fine. I was already working then and if I was bored I just invented a new idea for her room or bought something new for her.”
“Poor, poor Gabriel,” he chuckled.
“Poor Gabriel?” She giggled, remembering how protective and overwhelming her husband had been. “Poor, poor me! He panicked when I told him I was pregnant. In the last month, he almost locked me inside the apartment.” She repressed a laugh and whispered to him. “When I told him it was time to go the hospital, I thought he was going to faint.”
The secretary approached them. “Mr. MacCraig is ready to receive you. This way, please.”
“Sophia, let me do the talking,” Edward whispered in her ear before entering the meeting room.
She paused at the tall, wide door, raised one eyebrow, looked at him, and made a face.
Men! “Trust me, Edward, I won’t put my foot in my mouth.” She put a hand on his arm, squeezed and stepped into the room.
Alistair scowled at his watch again and turned to look out at the London skyline. A well-known boredom took over his soul.
Another unvaried, insipid day. Yesterday, today, tomorrow. Every day is the same. Will light ever come back to my wearisome life? He heard the room door open again.
Another dull meeting discussing this contract. Today, I’ll get this account. At least, something to brighten my day. He pasted a smile on his face, turned on his heels and steeped forward to greet the CEO of Leibowitz Oil. But he stopped dead in his tracks.
Suddenly, Alistair’s private sun shed a bright ray of light from behind the dark, heavy clouds that had enclosed his life for more than five years.
Fuck! Davidoff is accompanied by a woman. A magnificent beauty. His world spun on its axis, leaving him lightheaded. He watched, paralyzed, as she paused at the door, made a teasing face at Davidoff, rested an elegant hand on his arm, spoke something, and gave him a reassuring smile.