FALLEN: A Dark Mystery Romance (LOVE IS WAR Book 1) Read online

  “Too fucking wet,” he says, slowly peeling the band of fabric away from my tingling sex.

  Cold air rolls over the smooth flesh that’s pulsing with pleasure between my folds.

  I spread my legs a little.

  “You really want it,” he says while my eyes get caught into the scene unfolding in front of me. “As much as she does,” he adds.

  The woman’s mouth moves faster, mirroring the motion of her hand.

  “She’s gonna get it from him. Do you want it too?”

  I have no time to answer as I sense a tide of pleasure ramming through my blood.

  The man on the coach starts groaning as the woman fills her mouth with him. He pulls her up, switching places with her. She kneels on the sofa, her back to him, her hands gripping the edge.

  He stands tall behind her.

  I still can’t see their faces. His cock bounces, hard and heavy. One fist closes firmly around its root, his free hand going straight between her legs.

  She’s wet and swollen, his gaze glued to her entrance. The sight alone makes him grunt with pleasure. Two fingers keep her open while he slowly slides his hard length into her.

  I barely suppress a moan, my clit getting even tenser.

  The man behind my back runs his hand up, sweeps the front of my neck and drapes his fingers around it, probing my mouth with his index finger at the same time.

  I part my lips and wrap them around it. He adds another one as I get a rush of pleasure.

  “You want what she has?”

  I tilt my head down, my mouth watering around his fingers, my tongue swirling.

  Without finesse, he pushes my pants down, snagging my panties with them, low enough to expose my skin. The wool of his pants rubs against me, feeding my need for him.

  His shaft twitches against my skin.

  My eyes cannot tear away from the couple, the very same thing happening to the woman in front of me.

  One finger slips between my folds while the two in my mouth keep sliding in and out.

  Reaching back, I grip his hips. Strong and muscular, rocking slightly, they push his hard-on against me.

  “Fuck...” I mumble.

  The man inside the room grabs the woman’s hips, plunging his glistening cock into her. The image lodges in my mind pulverizing my restraint.

  “I want you in me,” I growl.

  His fingers slip into me, sliding into a pool of wetness. He retrieves them just as fast and presses the smooth tip of his erection against my entrance.

  “Keep your eyes on them,” he says.

  His voice is hoarse, his breaths heavy.

  He enters me. Slowly. Stretching me. Filling me to the brim. My body welcomes him, washing him with wet arousal.

  His fingers splay on my stomach while his free hand wraps around my neck. Securing me against his body, he starts to move, igniting a storm inside me.

  I lose it right there. Nothing matters anymore as I squirm beneath his touch. My blood churns heat as ragged breaths roll from my lungs. The pleasure comes in waves.

  Effortlessly.

  Overwhelming.

  Impossible to resist.

  “Don’t stop,” I mutter, experiencing a mind-blowing pleasure.

  My lids get heavy, my eyes getting hazy as my mind, for once, quiets down.

  I sink my fingers into his thighs, quickly nearing the climax.

  The woman sitting on her fours lets out a crying moan.

  Her hair gets swept off her back as the man pulls it with his fist. He pounds her without mercy, and she takes it, shuddering with pleasure. They both come. Him, groaning behind her back while she lets out a crying squeal. His cum starts dripping down her tights.

  My center pulses, my heart racing. The tension spiraling fast.

  The man behind me is no longer gently, his touch no longer tender. His fingers press into my neck with force, his body hammering me. The sound of slapping skin echoes in my ears. Harsh, brutal thrusts that make every fiber of my body vibrate with joy.

  Groans and moans mesh between us.

  He almost cuts my air supply as he breaks my body against his. Moments of ecstatic pleasure sweep through me, back to back, making me convulse in his arms.

  It’s only minutes later, when our bodies pull apart, that I briefly close my eyes, and catch my breath a little. By the time I lift my gaze, the room in front of me is empty.

  I turn around. There’s no one behind me.

  Paralyzed, I glance around. There’s no trace of him.

  I pull my panties up, and close my pants, crushed by panic. Dazed and frazzled, I collect my coat and rush out the door.

  Tormented, I dash through the corridor, find the exit door, and jog all the way home.

  14

  TESS

  I burst into the house, run upstairs, tear off my clothes on my way to the bathroom, and toss them on a chair.

  The stream of water doesn’t hit my skin quickly enough. I let it flog my face, my lips. My shoulders. A soothing scent of mandarin and oranges blends with the steam fogging the mirrors in the shower.

  My mind is blank.

  Blank as if a door was shut.

  Blank as if a wall had been built.

  Blank as if the past was carved out of me.

  I stubbornly try to push that door open, but all I do is hit that wall, searching in vain for the moment that could tell me what has actually happened.

  Calmness takes over me, but only briefly, and then the thoughts begin to swirl again. Angry thoughts shouting words at me, blaming me, incriminating me. Harassing me.

  I don’t have an explanation.

  They start bouncing around in my head, filling my mind with more nonsense.

  Why did I have to leave the house?

  The thought that I can no longer rely on my judgment makes me drown in panic. My hands begin to tremble, my entire body shaking.

  It was good, says a thought inside my head.

  What was good? asks the other.

  They clash before they crash and burn, leaving me wondering.

  What is wrong with my head?

  Absently, I turn the water off, run a towel over my body, and dry off my damp hair. I shrug on a plush robe and tie the belt before I shuffle out of the bathroom.

  The only light in the house comes from the street. I chose not to turn the lights on, preferring to leave it that way. Feeling my way down the stairs, I manage to reach the kitchen.

  A faint light comes from above the oven.

  Mechanically, I go through the motions and make myself a coffee. It’s too late for caffeine, way too late, but something tells me that a sleepless night lies ahead.

  Barefoot, I walk into my office.

  I switch on the reading lamp, set the cup of coffee on the table, take a seat on the sofa and slide my laptop onto my knees.

  My hand rests on the aluminum frame for a moment.

  What happened? asks a quiet thought.

  I lean back into the couch and tip my chin up, my gaze shifting to the ceiling.

  The better question is...

  What is going on with me?

  I close my eyes.

  That very moment, every pulse and tick of my slacken body rolls over my senses––the beat of my heart, the soft swishing of my blood running through my veins, the soft whisper of my breath rolling in and out of my lungs.

  I can still feel the dampness of my hair, the heat oozing from my scalp, and the scent of orange peel.

  What is happening to me, really?

  Am I losing my mind?

  Is that how it looks like?

  With blocks carved out of memory? With things that no longer feel real or make sense?

  Is that it?

  Am I reaching that point where I leave reality behind, and start to mess things up? For me and everybody else?

  I slowly release a long exhale.

  Only if I knew.

  My fingertips begin to stroke the metal.

  I finally bring my gaze down
and flip the laptop open. I skip everything that belongs to the reality I know. Work communication, Allan’s messages. Viola’s and mom’s. I skip Anna’s emails too.

  Without wasting time, I pull up that private website and type the password.

  Nothing changed.

  The screen looks the same, dull and white, stripped of links except for the one inviting me to play the last clip.

  Am I courageous enough?

  No, I am not. I know that for a fact, but I don’t think I have a choice right now. This could be my hell, and yet, the way I see it, I may as well begin to walk through it.

  A different screen pops up, filling the window with a cinematic view.

  A dimly lit room with a red couch, armchairs, and a beautiful chandelier. A large mirror covering the wall in the back.

  My heart stumbles.

  I jerk upright, my muscles hard and tense, blocks of steel against my skin.

  My breath turns shallow as I watch. I stare at that image, and it feels as if I take a peek into an abyss.

  Soft music plays in the background. I check my sound settings. Everything is set to the max. Seemingly, I can’t get better sound.

  The camera sweeps the room, the angle suggesting that the recorder is set in the wall. Bits and pieces of broken memories rush to me, making no sense. They feel like pieces of a puzzle swept away by wind before they fall into place–– wrong places, baffling me even more.

  My mind struggles, the way it always does when refuses to be useful.

  Something’s wrong with it, but I can’t waste much more time analyzing it.

  More snapshots come to me, mismatched like confetti littering the sidewalks after the New Years Eve.

  My eyes stay on that wall mirror as if the answer lies behind the shiny surface. No explanation comes my way, and then the camera begins to focus.

  I see them. Right there, in plain view. The brunette kneeled in front of a couch where a man sits.

  Tucked between his legs, she looks up at him, she wears nothing but a thong, most of her face blurred, but even so, I can see the mane of dark hair waving down her shoulders.

  The man spread his legs, even more, accommodating the woman. His unbuttoned shirt reveals much of his chest and his muscular abs.

  My eyes slant down as the camera shifts its angle. The gadget zooms in on him, giving me a full view of his groin, His fly is open, his erection cuffed by the woman’s hands.

  Veins swirl around his girth, his shaft plumped with blood. She runs her hands up on him, smoothly rubbing the chiseled crown.

  I suddenly feel warm.

  She brings her head close to him, parts her lips, and tilts her chin down, slowly rolling her tongue up his length. I clench my thighs.

  She does it again. His body tenses.

  The sofa feels hot beneath me, the robe too thick around my chest, almost suffocating me.

  I loosen the belt and crack the window open. The cold air rolls in, but it can’t cool me off.

  My skin feels as if I run a fever. My eyes burn, and I am almost heaving. A voice in my head keeps telling me to stop the clip, but I ignore it.

  She pushes up and tips her head down, getting a better angle at him. My eyes tear away only for a second as I start checking the mirror in the background.

  A memory forms, like a short blip in an ocean of silence, and just as fast it dies out. I swing my gaze back to the woman.

  Her hair covers her face as she paces herself and gives him a good sucking. He shifts his muscular arms, lifts her hair, and arches for her. I wish I could see her expression.

  Tense, he rolls his hips to meet the woman’s lips. Mouth open, I stare at them. The more he does it, the more aroused I get. Warm wetness trickles down between my legs.

  The tension between them intensifies.

  He rises to his feet and guides her to the couch. The frame fills with the view of her back as she slides onto her fours, zooming in on the smooth skin of her shoulders, the delicate bones of her arched spine and the swell of her butt.

  My eyes shift to him, my temperature spiking. Pants clinging to his hips, he grabs his curved up erection and enters her.

  She starts to moan, and I have no other choice but mute the sound. My head falls back against the couch, my eyes narrowing as he begins to thrust into her.

  Shallowly breathing, I watch him entering her over and over again, the rhythmical motion spurring so much pleasure in her.

  Soon, he picks up the pace.

  I can’t resist and turn on the sound again. Tingles roll down my skin as the heavy breaths and moans echo in the air.

  An unstoppable need grows in me.

  He starts to pound into her, and the tenser he gets the closer I get. Captivated by the images flashing in front of me, I swing my eyes from his waving abs to his strong grip on the woman’s body, and the wet hardness sliding in and out of her.

  Her moans make my own pleasure spin out of control.

  I slip the laptop on the table, my eyes still on them.

  My back sinks into the couch, my feet resting on the table on either side of the laptop, my legs spread open.

  I no longer register my surroundings.

  It’s only them and me. It’s only that man entering her as if he enters me. It’s only their bodies feasting on each other while mine gets high on pleasure.

  He thrusts. I feel. He grips. My skin vibrates. He arches his back and drives his cock into her, my nipples harden. He pushes his chest out while slamming into her. She takes his pounding with sheer delight, feeling exactly what I feel.

  The moment they near their orgasm, my body gears up for one as well. I don’t even touch myself, I’m that close, and I want to delay that moment as much as I can.

  So I only watch them.

  Eyes heavy.

  Eyelids lowered.

  Lips swollen.

  Mouthwatering.

  I run the tip of my tongue over my lips. I wish I’d have them crushed into a kiss. I wish I could taste that amazing sensation.

  He pumps her roughly, and a pull tightens in my belly.

  Crisp air sneaks into the room, sweeping my chest, my stomach and the flesh between my legs, but all I feel is a warm breeze.

  I’m burning and tensing and I’m on the cusp of coming, but I still don’t touch myself.

  He pounds her faster, and faster, her growling making my hair bristle, the blurred motion of his hips as he plunges into her tipping me over. A loud gasp falls from my lips as I feel the impending pleasure.

  The moment he pulls out of her, grabs his cock, strokes it fast and blasts his load on her back while she shudders in the aftermath, I arch my back, slip my hand between my legs, and ride my own climax.

  A growl bursts out of my lungs, and ragged breaths rock my chest when I hear the pounding on the main door.

  And then Allan’s voice.

  “Tess?”

  15

  TESS

  I jolt upright, pain clawing at my chest, my heart beating in my throat as my eyes widen in horror.

  More pounding on the door follows.

  He calls my name again.

  Panicked, I look around. Today is Thursday. He wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow evening.

  In one motion, I wrap my robe around me, tie the belt, slap the laptop shut and dash to the door only to swivel back, flip it open, curse as I’m waiting for the screen to light up and close the incriminating window.

  “Tess? Are you there?”

  I dart to the office door, spin around one last time, sweep the place with my gaze, making sure that everything is in order and sprint to the entrance.

  Distraught, I unlock it.

  “Hi,” I say, smiling faintly.

  “Hey...” he mutters, studying my face.

  We lock eyes, his expression suggesting that he has noticed my flushed cheeks.

  “What the hell is this?” he asks.

  “What?”

  My voice trembles, my eyes slipping away for a mome
nt.

  He glances over my shoulder, the suspicion in his gaze making my stomach clench.

  “Is someone else with you?” he asks.

  I should pretend at least that I’m offended, but for some reason, I don’t want to argue with him right now.

  “No,” I say.

  His gaze slants down.

  “What were you doing?” he asks, not showing the slightest intention to walk in.

  “Working,” I toss at him the first word that comes to my mind.

  His eyes stall on my hand, my grip tense and my fingers trembling as I hold my robe together.

  He flicks his gaze up fast, taking me by surprise.

  “Why did you change the lock?” he asks.

  My mouth falls open, my eyes set for a second on the specks of snow landing on his hair.

  I shift my focus back.

  Oh. Damn it. I forgot about the lock.

  “Um... Long story,” I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.

  He sets his briefcase on the wall table in the foyer while I close the door. How come I didn’t hear the engine of his car? As I pull the door shut I spot his SUV, parked across the street.

  I must have heard it, but it hasn’t registered with me.

  “I expected you tomorrow,” I say.

  “We finished a day earlier, and I caught a late flight this afternoon.”

  He shrugs off his coat and brushes a few snowflakes from his suit pants while I take a few steps behind him.

  “What did you work on?” he asks, moving his eyes back to me.

  I turn to stone.

  “Um... A book.”

  He unbuttons his jacket, his eyes drilling me with suspicion, turning my insides into a pile of crumbs.

  I take a long breath.

  “It’s, um... nothing. Just a work sample for a future client. Are you hungry?” I ask, heading to the kitchen–– trying to break away from him and his scrutiny.

  He follows me, yet stops behind my back, not far from the kitchen door. He remains silent, prompting me to spin around to face him.

  “Why did you change the lock, Tess?”

  I tear my gaze away from him.

  “I’ll have steak and salad,” I say, ignoring his question. “How about you?”

  “I’m good,” he says dryly. “I had dinner at the hotel.”