~The wet lock~
She stared at the huge corporate headquarters in front of her, the doors slid open and she felt her stomach flip. What had she gotten herself into! She stepped into the vast space, her laptop bag slung over one shoulder as her heels clicked against the polished floor. Her strut was perfect and she knew it! She was ready to face him.
She had to get the contract! But the moment she crossed the threshold into the executive floor, she felt something she couldn't describe. Her pulse quickened without any warning. She was perfect at this, why was her body betraying her at such a critical moment? Maybe it was her nerves flaring before the big pitch!
She walked into the boardroom and her eyes met the long obsidian table that dominated the space. She stood at the far end as she placed her bag on the table, setting up her laptop and adjusting the projector. Her fingers trembled slightly but she didn't give that any attention. Then the door opened and he walked in like he owned the room, but he actually did. Daimon Vuss, his name was everywhere for the past decade, he'd appeared from nowhere and within months, he'd become one of the top fashion designers in the country. He never showed his face in public, many believed he had a hideous face or he had a nasty scar that people would fear! He was not wearing his signature silver mask like he always did!
She wasn't prepared for this! His broad shoulders wrapped in a charcoal suit caught her eye, they never popped in the magazines! She pinched her left palm, she needed to focus. She didn't notice his eyes fixed on her for a moment, his gaze lingered a bit too long. She now understood why he wore the mask, he was mesmerizing to look at!
"You must be Ms Steary." His voice made something stir in her chest, a memory she couldn't quite grasp. He didn't smile as he approached extending his arm. She took it and his grip was warm and soft. She was stunned. "Mr Vuss, it's an honor." His gaze swept over her and it was not professionally. He looked at her the way a man looks at a woman he has undressed before! He seemed to know the curve of her waist, the taste of her skin, the scent of her hair. She flashed a smile. She pulled her hand back, flustered. "Shall we begin?"
"Sure." He gestured to the seats, but he didn't sit at the head's chair. He took the chair directly beside the one she'd chosen. He was too close! She could smell sandalwood, and her thigh almost brushed his when she shifted. focus, this is just a presentation! She told herself but her body language betrayed her. The projection lit up with data. Lily spoke about the integration protocols and how the seamless synchronization of her project with the runway lighting and model tracking would make any gala event a sight to behold. Her slides were flawless but she was acutely aware of him beside her.
His gaze traced the line of her throat, the curve of her lips when she paused to take a breath. Hi fingers drummed slowly on the table, a rhythm she recognized without knowing why. She stumbled over a word. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" He smiled. Lily remained expressionless but she was terrified! "I didn't say anything."
"Right." She cleared her throat. "As i was saying, the integration reduces latency by....." "Tell me , Ms Steary." He leaned forward after interrupting her. His knee was now brushing hers under the table. She felt the contact like a spark. "Do you believe in fate?" "I believe in data Mr Vuss." "Data doesn't explain everything." His voice was now low and almost intimate. "Some things can't be quantified, like moments... they change you. Some even haunt you forever." She could feel a tremble creeping up from her neck. "Mr Vuss, I'm not sure i follow. How is this related to anything we've discussed?"
"Call me Daimon." He shifted closer. His thigh pressed against hers! "I have a feeling we know each other better than you think." what was happening! lily, get it together, he must be messing with you. She tried to tell herself but nothing seemed to calm her down! The air between them had turned thick and electric, it was supposed to be a professional meeting. She could feel the tension on her chest. Her nipples tightened beneath her blouse.
"Your presentation is excellent," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "You don't have to finish it, you'll get the contract. But i want to discuss the personal impact of your software. How it connects to the human elements." "I'm not sure i follow." He stood, walked around the table and then he was behind her. His hands rested on the back of her chair, his chest so close she could feel him breathing. He leaned down, his lips almost brushing her left ear. "You've presented enough for today L, i want to show you something in my private office." She was shocked. What had he just called her? l, how does he know that! This can't be happening!
She should have said know but he knew something nobody deserved to know. Her past: a past she couldn't remember. All she knew was her nickname. L. Her body reacted differently. Her pulse surged, not in fear, but in hunger. She could feel her cunt clenching, the slickness was soaking her. Every breath she took was filled with his scent. "Okay." She heard herself whisper.
She followed him, matching his every step. She walked into his office. She shifted her gaze form one corner to another. The lighting was dim, like a candlelight. A massive desk dominated one corner, covered with sketches that captured her attention. She wanted to be lead there, maybe he wanted to show her some of the sketches. But he lead her to a leather sofa, and when she sat, he didn't sit beside her. He knelt!
Right there, on the floor between her legs, his hands resting on her knees. She was terrified: the adrenaline was kicking in and she was ready to kick him hard on the stomach. He looked up to face her, his gaze was soft, like he'd seen his first love. "I've waited eight years for this," he said. "Every night, every goddamn night. I've dreamed of your taste." "What are you talking about?" Her voice cracked. "I don't..."
But something was breaking open inside her. A buried memory, the way he looked at her, it was so familiar and it hurt. A sharp pain tore through her skull and she buried her head on her palms. He reached up and lifted her head gently. He traced her jaw with his thumb. "You don't remember me." " I.. i don't.." "Barcelona, a warehouse near the docks, you were nineteen, you were crying. And i.."
The world seemed to stop for a moment. It was all coming back to her. Barcelona. The ropes that had bitten her wrists, the cold concrete floor she had been forced to sit in. The terror! Then ..him. A man who'd appeared from the shadows and set her free. She could remember how he had held her trembling body in his arms, the warmth of his chest as he told her she was safe. He had killed two men in front her, he did it all for her.
He had taken her to a hidden cabin, they were both intoxicated by a substance they couldn't name. They fell on the bed, clinging onto each other like survivors. She remembered everything now. His hands on her skin his mouth kissing her neck so tentatively, the way he'd pushed into her; slowly and deeply as she sobbed with relief and pleasure. She remembered arching beneath him, screaming his name. what was his name? "Jaime!" She breathed in awe. " Your name was Jaime."
He smiled and there was pain in that smile. "Why did you leave me? I looked for you everywhere!" Her words cut through him like swords. "I had to disappear. You were being hunted, i couldn't stay. But i never forgot you L. Not for a fucking moment." "Why didn't you tell me?" Tears burned her eyes. "Why didn't you say something the moment i walked in?"
"Because i wanted to see if you'd feel it." His hands slid up her thighs spreading her wider. "If your body would remember mine." She couldn't think straight. All she could do was feel the heat of his palms on her skin, the aching emptiness between her legs that had been waiting for him for eight damn years! "I remember," she said, her voice breaking. "Show me." He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. "Show me you still want me L."
She grabbed his hair, that same dark hair she'd tangled her fingers in that night. She pulled his face against her cunt grinding against his mouth through the fabric. He groaned, a sound that showed he was dying to have her. His hands went under her skirt, hooking her panties aside as his mouth went on her directly. He wasn't gentle, he licked her like a starving man! His tongue was flat against her clit, his fingers spreading her open. She cried out, her back arching as her heels dug into the leather. It was exactly like that night. He knew exactly where to press, where to suck hard as if every detail of her body had been carved into his memory. He adored her.
"Fuck Daimon." "Call me Jaime," he growled against her. "I want you to scream the name i had when i first tasted you!" She was already close. The years of denial, she had wondered why no other man had ever made her feel this way. It all crashed down as he buried his tongue inside her, fucking her with it while his thumb circled her clit. She came with a sob, her hips bucking against his face, her juices flooding her mouth. He drank her like a man who'd been dying of thirst!
When she finally slumped back, shaking due the orgasm, he rose over her, his cock straining against his trousers. He didn't ask permission. He unbuckled his belt, freed himself; thick and hard and he pressed the head against her entrance, still wet from his tongue. "I've dreamed of this," he said, his voice filled with passion. "Every fucking night, I've imagined burying myself inside you again." "Then do it," she said softly. He drove into her with one brutal thrust. She moaned as he filled her completely. There was no gentleness now. This was eight years of hunger unleashed. He fucked her on that leather sofa, slamming into her hips hard as she sobbed in pleasure.
She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. She met each thrust with a roll of her hips that made them both groan. Her nails raked down his back. His mouth meet her throat as he kissed her tentatively. "You belong to me," he snarled. "From the first night, you were mine." "Yes, Jaime." She managed to utter beneath her soft moans. He drove into her again and again until she cam a second time. Her cunt clenched around him so hard that he groaned in pleasure, then he followed, his hot cum flooding her, marking her from the inside.
They lay tangled together, their breathing harsh and ragged. The city skyline glowed through the windows. The rain has started as it streaked the glass like tears. Lily looked at him, Jaime, Daimon. The man who'd saved her and haunted her all this years. His face had changed, but he was still had that gaze she longed to see. "You're not disappearing this time," she whispered.
He kissed her forehead softly. "Never again."
