Insidious

  Despite my position, my sense of empowerment returned. I reached again for his erection, not freeing it, but rubbing, on my own, without his guidance. His jeans strained as his cock twitched below the material.

  “Do you remember the question I asked you this afternoon?” he whispered, hot, needy breaths bathing my skin.

  Hell, I couldn’t remember my own name. There’d been too much. “Which question?” I asked through panted breath.

  “If you would fuck my fingers… I promised you no sex until you’re ready, but damn, girl, you’re so fucking ready. You just don’t know it. Let me give you the best orgasm of your life. If I can do that with only my fingers, then you can just imagine what I can do with my cock.”

  “S-Stewart, I-I don’t—”

  He reached under my shirt, stopping my words with the caressing of my breast, teasing the taut, hard nub of my nipple. “You don’t want me to stop? You don’t think you should say yes, but you want to? You don’t know what it’s like to have an orgasm?”

  I buried my face against his wide chest, hiding my embarrassment in his cotton shirt. Everything he’d just said was true. It wasn’t how I’d planned on finishing the sentence, but nonetheless, it was true. Again, the amazing scent of cologne overpowered my already overloaded senses.

  Continuing to fondle my breast, he reached for my chin and brought my eyes to his. “Don’t hide from me. I want to see every emotion behind your incredible eyes. That’s what I want out of this agreement. I want to watch those eyes as I take you places you’ve never been.”

  I nodded.

  “Words, Victoria, I need to hear it.”

  “I want what you just said.”

  His nose nearly touched mine, as he probed, “What did I just say?”

  Damn him! He was going to make me say it. “I want to feel your fingers. I want to have an orgasm.”

  Letting go of my face, he reached for the waistband of my panties and teased the elastic band. “Have you ever had an orgasm?”

  I shrugged. “I think. I’m not sure.”

  A low chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. “Darling, if you’re not sure, you haven’t. Now, I still haven’t heard exactly what you want.”

  The tension continued to build as his hand found my thighs.

  “Shit, girl, you’re so wet, you’ve soaked these panties.”

  Again, my cheeks blushed. “I-I should have worn the yoga pants. It’s just that…” I shyly admitted, “…I was about ready to go—”

  He reached down and shifted his growing erection. “Fuck!” he interrupted. “Tell me what you want before I rip these panties right off of you.”

  Gathering strength from his need, I reached for my own waistband and pushed the satin and lace down over my hips. “Stewart, I want you to fuck me with your fingers. I want an orgasm.”

  His smile grew, while his eyes shimmered with seduction. “Tori, my darling, that’s one request that I’ll never deny you.”

  The rough texture of the wall bit my back as his body once again pressed me against the outside of the building. When he lifted one of my legs with his knee, I reached for his shoulders. Before my exposure registered, his fingers opened my swollen lips and spread my wetness. I tensed at the intrusion until one of his fingers slid between my warm folds and inside of me. Simultaneously a long hiss filled my ears. It took me a moment to realize that the sound was coming from me. Everything he was doing felt incredible. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable like it had been with Wesley.

  “Oh, fuck! You’re so tight.”

  Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I fell into the rhythm of his thrusts when without warning he added another finger. “Oh, God!” I breathed against his chest. Never had anything felt so good. Never had I been wound so tight. Each time his fingers probed deeper and deeper, I had the sensation of climbing a mountain: higher and higher. My breathing labored as I neared the precipice. As the peak showed itself in the distance, he expertly brushed my clit and ignited a fire storm within me. An uncontrollable whimper escaped my lips as he rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves.

  “Relax, baby, let me give this to you. Don’t fight it.”

  Was I fighting? It sure didn’t feel like fighting.

  I nodded, closed my eyes, and floated against his chest. His knee bounced, lifting me up and bringing me down. In and out his fingers slid. It was all in perfect rhythm, a harmony of sensation as my mind and body reached the crescendo that he’d orchestrated. Then in perfect timing, in unison, he pinched my clit and my nipple. My world exploded. Flashes of light like I’d never known sparkled behind my closed eyes. Every muscle in my body tightened and imploded. Though it came upon me fast, it didn’t end the same way. No. I held tightly to his shoulders as waves of pleasure rippled through my body. It wasn’t until I fell slack against his chest that I realized I’d been yelling out.

  My legs gave way as embarrassment washed over me. Stewart picked me up and sat me in the chair. Awkwardly, I realized I was still bare-assed. He knelt before me, lifted my chin and placed his fingers to his lips. Inhaling deeply, he said, “Tori, you’re incredible.”

  Slowly, he sucked my essence from his fingers and licked his lips. As he reveled in his display, mortification overtook me. I tried again to look away, but his words stopped me.

  “No, I want you to watch. Can’t you see how good you taste? I could go down on you all day. Tori, you have no idea how fucking hot you are, how sexual. There are so many things I can teach you, but I can’t teach that. You’re fucking perfect.”

  Slowly, my mind processed my still-exposed sex, as my cheeks once again blushed. “I think I need to get dressed,” I muttered as I reached for my panties.

  They were too far away, and my muscles were Jell-o. Chivalrously, Stewart reached for my underwear. With a grin, he placed it near his nose, closed his eyes, and inhaled.

  “Please…” I said, self-conscious of the wetness of my panties.

  “Please?”

  “I’m…” I truly didn’t know what to say.

  “You’re perfect. That’s what I said, and I don’t say what I don’t mean.” He lifted my feet one by one, placing them into the leg holes of my panties. His blue eyes bore through me, as if he could see something others couldn’t. I remained silent as he slid the soft material up my legs. When they were almost in place, he said, “Tori, don’t ever be embarrassed about your reaction. It was beautiful and honest. That’s what I want from you: honesty. Now, tell me what you’re thinking.”

  My mind was mush. “I have no idea,” I replied honestly with a giggle. “I am embarrassed, but I don’t know why.” I lowered my eyes. “It was unbelievable. I’ve never…”

  Helping me stand, he secured my underwear over my hips and whispered near my ear. “Remember what I said. My cock is much better. You haven’t experienced anything yet.”

  The dark sky beyond our bubble reminded me of the late hour. “I think I’d better get some sleep.”

  “Yes.” He grinned. “Tomorrow is a big day. Can you find your way back to your room?”

  Nodding, I replied, “Yes. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night.”

  “WHERE THE HELL were you?”

  The words echoed through my bedroom suite, bouncing off the walls and windows as I blinked my eyes. The flood of sunlight assaulted my sight, burning my vision, where moments earlier I’d seen only peaceful dreams. I’d been sound asleep, alone in my bed. With my drapes suddenly opened, I struggled with reality. What was happening?

  Before I could acclimate, the soft blankets cocooning my world moved, and cool air struck my warm, suddenly exposed skin. Thankfully, I still had the protection of my nightgown and panties, as I squinted against the light and focused on the faces before me.

  “What the hell?”

  As the haze faded, both my husband and his right-hand man came into view. Stewart was beside my bed, in the wheelchair, and Travis was standing near the open drapes. I had no doubt that Travis
had been the one to wheel Stewart from his downstairs room to my suite.

  Stewart continued his glare. “Where the hell were you last night?”

  Reaching for the blankets, I covered myself and scowled toward Travis. “Get the hell out of my room.”

  It took every ounce of my energy not to jump from my bed and slap the smug expression off his arrogant face. Instead, I scowled toward Stewart with my lips pursed in silent disobedience. Finally, he turned toward Travis. “Leave us. I’ll call for you when I’m ready to be taken back to my room, or…” He looked at me. “…Mrs. Harrington can tend to her husband. After all, isn’t that what good wives do?” Stewart shrugged. “But then again, good wives aren’t out until all hours of the night.” He nodded. “Go now.”

  “Yes, sir,” Travis replied, all the while his eyes fixed on me.

  Fighting the sickening feeling I always had in Travis’ presence, I taunted, “Yes, Travis, run along. I’m sure there’s someone else who you can make miserable for a few minutes.”

  “Always a pleasure, Mrs. Harrington.”

  I stared his direction as he walked the length of my suite taking his time before he finally closed the door and left us alone. Turning toward Stewart, I asked, “What the fuck? You let him come in here while I’m sleeping?”

  Despite his disease-ridden body, his eyes were quick, dark, and responsive. “I asked you, my wife, a fucking question—twice. Where were you last night?”

  Throwing back the covers, I eased myself from the bed, and walked toward the bathroom. “With Val; I told you I was going to go out with her.”

  “At the damn hospital?” His voice came muffled from the suite, echoing as it traveled into the tile-covered bathroom. “You went out with your sister at Memorial Hospital all night?”

  After doing my business, I washed my hands, and splashed water on my face. While making Stewart wait, I tied my long hair back into a low ponytail, grabbed my robe, and casually re-entered the bedroom. “Yes,” I said, as I tied the cord around my waist. “We didn’t go out. She had rounds. As you may have inferred from our conversation, I was pissed, and I didn’t want to be here.”

  “Victoria, you were gone until one in the damn morning. You’re Mrs. Stewart—”

  “I goddamned know my fucking name! I was at the hospital with my sister. We were discussing a new project for the Harrington Society, a string of cancer clinics here in the US. Tell me, Mr. Harrington, what part of that was inappropriate for your wife?”

  “The one-in-the-morning part.”

  “Check the damn hospital records: about ten o’clock there was some big emergency, a pile-up on I 95 or something. They needed Val in the ER. I waited for her in the doctors’ lounge. Honestly, I fell asleep.” My gray eyes narrowed. “I’d had a rather emotional day.”

  Without a smidge of remorse, his clouded blue gaze remained fixed.

  Thankfully, there had been a big car accident. I’d heard about it on the radio on my way home. A quick call to Val’s cell phone and my story was solidified.

  I continued, “She woke me when she returned to the lounge and I came home. It’s a pretty fucking torrid story. I mean, seriously, I’d hate for your wife to be doing anything without you present, oh, like getting fucked.”

  His unwavering gaze matched his steady tone. “What did you just say to Travis?”

  My mind spun. “I don’t remember. I told him to get the fuck out of my room.”

  “No. You told him to run along. Like some goddamned child.”

  My breath quickened as I looked around my room. Shit! This wasn’t all about the late hour. This was about my visit to Craven and Knowles. “Travis has no right; you have no right, to allow him in my room.”

  “This isn’t your room. Your room is in my room—our room. It always has been. I don’t like you sleeping in here and it’s going to stop.”

  I blinked slowly and took a deep breath. “Well, I may have promised to sleep in your bedroom, but you made me promises too.”

  Stewart’s blue eyes paled, and his ashen face fell toward his chest. “Take me back to our room. I’m not feeling well and we’ll talk about it there.”

  A sense of duty nudged at my conscience as I looked at the remnants of the man I’d married. No longer was he the larger-than-life mogul. The cancer had taken his strength and his pride.

  “When was the last time you had your pain medicine?” I asked with less than a tinge of concern and more of a desire to have him medicated.

  “Last night, after I’d finally given up on you coming home.”

  “It’s time for more, don’t you think?”

  He grimaced as he lifted his eyes. “No. I want to talk about this.”

  I turned his chair toward me and sat on the edge of the bed. “Then talk. I’m not having this conversation in front of Travis or any of your harem of nurses. You want to talk, let’s talk.”

  “I was there. Tori, I’ve never lied to you.”

  “Virtual presence isn’t the same as being there.” I fought the absurdity of our conversation.

  “I-I can’t physically be there anymore. You know that. There are so few enjoyable things left in my life. There’s such a short time… can you blame me for wanting pleasure where I can get it? I’m still a man with needs. I want that.” He lifted his hand toward me. “This.”

  If we’d been talking about almost anything besides the topic at hand, I could have felt a pang of sympathy. But we weren’t and I didn’t. “Yes, I can blame you. You’re the only one I can blame.”

  “That’s not true. I heard you went to Parker’s office.” Of course he did. “You looked at the contract. Tell me whose signature was on it?”

  “Yours and—”

  “And yours,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You agreed to this before we were married. Like I said, nowhere in that document does it say I must be physically present. It states that you’ll comply. You could still hear my voice. I could still see you.”

  I stood abruptly, securing the robe around my waist and fought the Dark Lullaby threatening to replay in the recesses of my mind. “I fucking complied!”

  His cold, clammy hand reached out to mine. “Tori, you were perfect, as usual. Give me a private show right now. Let me see my sexy wife in real life. I wanted that last night too. You know how much I enjoy having some of you after I watch. By not coming home, you denied me that pleasure.”

  My heart sunk. “Stewart, I have to meet Maura today…” I looked toward the clock on the bedside stand. It was almost eleven o’clock. Shit! I’d slept late. “…in about an hour.”

  His clouded eyes narrowed. “I’ve received many requests from our friends. As you know, we haven’t been able to accommodate them, but now we can. Is that what you’d prefer? Say the word, Mrs. Harrington: a private show for your husband or another visit to the warehouse?”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled. The ghostly scent of Parker’s cologne whiffed unmistakably through my suite. I opened my eyes abruptly. He wasn’t with us. We were still alone; it was only my imagination. I fought the growing nausea as I assured myself I wasn’t losing it. “Please…”

  A sadistic smirk emerged from his graying complexion. “All of this is of your own free will, my Tori, completely consensual. Now, tell me, which do you prefer, here or the warehouse? Perhaps both? The day is young.”

  “Stewart, what about Maura?”

  He nodded toward my bedside stand. “Your phone is flashing. Maybe she’s left you a message. Maybe she’s unable to attend. If not, you can call and cancel or postpone.”

  Debating my options, I walked toward my phone. Each step on the plush carpet seemed as though I were stepping through quicksand: the next step more difficult than the one before. Picking up my phone, I read the screen. There were three text messages. It didn’t take long to see that none of them were from Maura. I closed the app. I knew who at least one was from, and I couldn’t stomach Brody’s kind words with Stewart’s darkening blue gaze watching my every move. I kept
my back toward my husband as I said, “The messages are from Val. She was worried about my driving home so late.”

  I turned to his raised brows.

  “What’s your decision, Mrs. Harrington?”

  Exhaling, I turned back away and searched my contacts. Finding Maura Craven’s name, I hit CALL.

  Catching her voicemail, I made my tone as light as possible. “Maura, I’m sorry to do this to you on such short notice. Stewart’s having a difficult morning. I don’t think I should leave him today. Please, dear, give me a call and we’ll reschedule.”

  I disconnected the call and turned back toward my husband. My chest became heavy as I saw his flaccid penis. He’d obviously lowered the edge of his sweat pants and exposed himself while I spoke.

  Not hiding my cruel tone, I asked. “Did you beat off while you watched yesterday?” I knew the answer. He couldn’t get off with a Hoover vacuum. The disease and medicine had taken away more than his ability to stand.

  “Come here.”

  Resigned, I moved forward. My new concern was getting to the bathroom in search of lubricant. Without it, there was no way that cock would get inside of me. Momentarily I remembered my arousal from the night before. If only I could relish the idea of Brody’s come being there with Stewart’s dick. Maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to enjoy the irony. Seductively, I leaned down and kissed his lips. Summoning my most appeasing voice, I said, “Let me go get ready for you. I’ll be right back.”

  He reached for my hand and placed it on his dick. “No. You can get ready right here.” His hand tugged at the cord around my waist, opening my robe and exposing my nightgown. “Mrs. Harrington, you are overdressed for this show. I believe you know my rules.”

  Allowing the robe to fall from my shoulders, I pulled the nightgown from my head.

  “Panties. Tsk tsk. Those were never needed when you slept where you’re supposed to be sleeping.”

  “I can’t sleep with the nurses checking on you all night long. You know that.”

  “Panties. Off.”

  The lace fell to my ankles.