THE DIPLOMAT
I follow her up the stairs. Gabriel might own her on paper, but he doesn’t own her body like I do. She moves like she doesn’t know what she does to me. But every sway of her hips is like an invitation wrapped in barbed wire. And even though it cuts, I accept it, over and over. I’ve memorised the sound of her footsteps, every breath she exhales when she thinks no one is listening, and if she stops, I stop.
We near the top of the stairs and pause. I almost smile. She doesn’t realise how much of her I’ve stolen already.
Twenty minutes. Less now. Fifteen. I can do fifteen. I’m not clock-watching, but I know when Mr Lewis gives a time, it’s not really about time, it’s about control. I tell myself to pull back. I won’t go any further. But then she laughs.
You laugh.
And it’s enough to unravel me completely. That timer is ticking. I storm into the room behind her, and the door slams behind me like a gunshot. She flinches, but only for half a breath. I don’t wait. I scoop her into my arms, and bury my face into her neck like I’m trying to inhale her into my bloodstream, and make her part of my anatomy.
I can’t believe how beautiful she is. It’s like the universe had one chance to make something untouchable and it created her. In my arms, she already feels like mine, like I’ve earnt her just by suffering the weight of wanting her so completely.
‘I’ve got twelve minutes, Stella. And while boss is in a good mood, I intend to use this time wisely, before he changes his mind and shoots a bullet up my arse.’
She nods. My beautiful Stella. My little bat, fuck. I feel my cock hardening, swelling in my trousers as she slips off her tattered clothing. It slumps to the floor, and my mouth gapes. She’s breathtaking. Not just beautiful – but striking. Her long, black hair clinging to her slick inked skin as the water from the shower traces lines of her like it’s worshipping her contours. Every curve, every muscle sculpted.
‘Well?’ she smiles.
I reach for her before logic finds its footing. Every part of me soaked wet-through to the bone. Clothes clinging to my skin, but all I feel is her. I force her backwards, slamming her back against the tiled wall, water crashing down on us.
‘You like the water, don’t you, Sal? You’d be hard-pushed to drown me here.’
‘Don’t be so sure of that.’
One day, I’ll claim every inch of her body, but right now, I unzip my wet trousers, and slide my cock between her legs. She spreads them wide, wraps her arms around my neck, and I hoist her into the air, legs wrapping around my waist as I slowly lower her onto my cock.
I thrust forward, pinning her against the wall. My hand reaches for her throat, keeping her steady, while the other disconnects the shower head. I grip onto the side of her throat, immobilising her as I slowly pull out, my hand holding her steady, stopping me from giving her pussy the full tenderising treatment like it’s some punch bag in a butcher shop. My hand brings the shower head closer, bringing it between her legs.
Fuck, she’s tight.
I lean forward, clamping my teeth onto the top of her shoulder as the stream of water hammers her clit. I bite harder, enough she hisses and writhes from the lack of oxygen, her legs dangling, toes barely touching the floor.
‘S-stop, Sal. I-I...’ she moans. I pull back enough to see the expression on her face.
‘Tell me I disgust you. I dare you.’ I thrust into her. My cock ramming hard inside her, the water jet on full. ‘P-please, Sal,’ she cries out. But I don’t stop. I want more. I love watching her come knowing I had something to do with it. I clamp my hand over her mouth, and she moans into it. The water beats down, steam fogging the air around us. I drop the shower head, and reach out, arm gliding along the tiled wall, fingertips searching for the familiar shape I’d seen when I walked into the bathroom. The electric toothbrush stands in its charger, the ridged plastic giving my hand just enough grip. The gentle hum buzzes through my fingers as it springs to life. Vibrations ripple through the handle. The sound is subtle, but Stella hears it. Her eyes flash wide. ‘Turn it off,’ her breath hitches.
‘Four minutes left, Stella.’ I reach down, teasing her arsehole with the pulsating toothbrush, and as she stills, she clamps so hard around my cock I almost explode.
‘Don’t you dare, or I swear to fucking God,’ she hisses. I push the vibrating toothbrush closer, and smile. It’s the kind of grin reserved for last rites. The kind of grin I know she’d rip from my face given half the chance.
‘Funny. I overheard Gabriel once say that if anyone dared whisper God’s name, he’d remind them who signed the lease to their soul.’
She writhes, very theatrically. ‘Come on, Stella. Oscars are out of reach.’
‘Put me down or I’ll scream,’ she seethes.
‘Oh, by all means,’ I chuckle, adjusting my grip. My cock growing impossibly harder. ‘We haven’t had a good soprano since the last one went into the wood chipper.’
Simultaneously I grab and aim the shower head against her clit, the toothbrush pushed just inside her arse. And she screams. Boy does she scream! Her scream pierces the air – it’s sharp, theatrical, soaked in fury. It’s ricocheting off the bathroom walls like a banshee. I can’t help it. I laugh. I’ll never get enough. What comes out of my mouth isn’t a chuckle – it’s a full-bodied, spine-curving release. It and my semen burst out, involuntarily. The absurdity of it hits me, as do her fists against my arms and back. I shake my head, still grinning. ‘Well, that was melodic. Try it in E-flat next time, ‘cause time’s up, baby.’
‘I hate you,’ she growls.
‘Be still my beating heart.’ I pull away, kicking my wet trousers to the side, and grab a towel.
‘Is this my life? I might as well be locked up. Both you and Mr Lewis keeping me here like a caged animal, to do with as you will.’
‘If my love is a cage, then I’ll have the bars forged in iron, and I’ll be your ball and chain you drag for all eternity.’
