Enthralled (Dark Passions) (5 page)

  
“Shove it in,” I whispered.

  
“What was that?” Bradley asked, bending forward and nipping my ear, then
holding it between his teeth.

  
“I said, shove your hard cock inside me.” When I spoke, our eyes met for a long
moment in the mirror. I could see the strain in his eyes, and knew he was
suffering as much as I was. He wanted this just as badly. He let out a low,
husky groan, and then with one hard thrust he was inside me, and my whole body
quivered at the feeling of him filling me. Our eyes stayed locked in the
mirror, his fierce and smoldering, mine wild and needy. Unable to restrain
himself any longer, he started thrusting harder and faster, his throbbing cock stroking
me closer and closer to ecstasy, but then he slowed down, letting my need
uncoil, pool, and then gather and build again. As I whimpered and begged him to
go harder and deeper, Bradley tilted up my behind and slammed relentlessly to
the very back of me. Every time he hit the wall of my depths, the ripples of
pleasure became more and more intense, until finally my whole body quaked and
quivered and strained towards the final, glorious release. When my orgasm
exploded through me, I wanted to cry out, but Bradley cupped his hand tightly
around my mouth, suppressing my moan. Our eyes met again in the mirror, mine
glazed and delirious, his still burning and piercing. But then I saw the
change. As he went over the edge, I felt a tremor run through his body, and as
he erupted inside me, thrusting repeatedly with abandon, his eyes became as
needy and wild as mine had been. I saw him lose control, and he let me see it. He
gave that to me, I realized. He was taking a huge leap of faith by showing me
his vulnerability. And given his control issues, I realized what a big step
that was for him.

  
He nuzzled his nose into the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply. Then he held
me close and our heavy breathing synched up, then slowed down at the same time.
“That was hot,” I said, as he pulled out of me and I pulled the skirt of my
dress down. I could feel the semen dripping down my leg, and I grabbed a tissue
from my purse to wipe myself clean.

  
“Sorry about the mess,” Bradley said with a sheepish grin.

  
There was a hard knock on the change room door. “Is everything alright in
there?” the blond asked, her voice as cold as an iceberg.  

  
Bradley sighed and pulled up his pants. “Yes, everything is just fine,” he
said, his tone curt. “We were just consulting each other on our outfits. We’ve
decided we like what we see.”

  
Bradley reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Change
quickly and meet me at the front desk,” he said. I nodded, and waited for him
to leave my change room before pulling my jeans and halter top back on.

  
When we both appeared at the cash register, the blond sales clerk was shooting
venom from her eyes. “What
exactly
were you two doing in there?” she
asked. “This is Yves Saint Laurent. On Fifth Avenue. Not the VIP room at a
strip joint.”

  
I started to fume. “Like my boyfriend told you before, we were checking out
each other’s outfits,” I said, my voice laced with anger. “Now shut your rude
little mouth and do your job. The faster you ring up our bill, the sooner we
can get away from you and your snotty little attitude.”

  
“That’s my girl,” Bradley said under his breath, and smiled at me. Seething in
silence, the sales clerk rung up our bill, and we quickly grabbed our bags and
exited the boutique.

  
“Where to now?” I asked, looking up at Bradley and noticing that his face was
still a little flushed.

  
“We’ll drop these off at the hotel,” he said. “And then we’ll go for a quiet
little picnic in Central Park.”

  
“I like it,” I said, still feeling completely giddy, still basking in my after
sex glow.

  
“Come on, then,” he said. “Let’s go grab a cab.”

***

When
we got to Central Park, we meandered over to a grassy, shaded spot under a
large tree overlooking  the pond, and laid out a plaid blanket we’d picked up
at an army supply store. I started unpacking the basket of goodies we’d purchased
from the supermarket: brie, baguette, tomatoes, as well as a bottle of my
favorite red wine we found at the liquor store. 

  
Bradley busied himself uncorking the bottle of red, while I fished out two wine
glasses and laid them in front of him. With a deft jerk of his hand, Bradley
got the cork out of the bottle, and threw the bottle opener back in the basket.
As I watched him pour the lovely red liquid into the glasses, he gave me a sly
smile and said, “We’ll have to be sneaky about this. Don’t want someone calling
the cops on us.”

  
I grab my glass and raised it. “A toast,” I said, giving him an impish smile. “To
breaking the law twice in one day: first for lewd behavior in a public place,
and now for prohibited public consumption of alcohol.”

  
Bradley winked at me, and then clinked my glass. “Stick with me, kid, and soon
enough you’ll be breaking all the rules”

  
“You’re a very bad boy,” I said, huskily. “You’re going to corrupt me.”

  
He draped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. “I’ve already
corrupted you,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Not like it took a lot of
convincing.”

  
I looked at him with mock anger. “Are you calling me easy?” I asked.

  
He laughed, and rubbed my shoulder. “Easy, but never cheap,” he said, and I
slapped him on the leg.

  
“I’m not easy,” I said. “You kidnapped me and took me to god knows where. And
now I’m virtually your slave.” I blinked up at him coyly, and I saw heat flash
in his eyes. Liking the effect my words were having on him, I decided to take
things step further. “I wouldn’t
dream
of disobeying you, because I know
you’d punish me
severely
.”

  
He gave me a dark, sultry look and slid his hand onto my ass, squeezing it,
then giving it a light slap. A surge of wicked delight pulsed through me as I
remembered the hard slap he’d given me in the change room. “I’ll punish you
right now, in front of all of these strangers if you don’t stop teasing me this
instant,” he said, grabbing me by the hair, and brushing his lips along my jaw
line.

 
 “Alright,” I whispered, letting out a little moan. Bradley pulled back and
examined my face. “You’ve got that look again,” he said. “Your eyes. They’re so
hungry.” I sat up straight, bit my lip, and considered for a moment. This was
the perfect moment to bring it up, so I decided to seize the opportunity.

  
“Thank you, for earlier,” I said. “In the change room, when you came. Thank you
for showing me your neediness, and your lack of control.”

  
Bradley’s face clouded over, and his lips curved down into a frown. “I thought
about what you said in the café. About trusting you with my vulnerability. It’s
not easy for me. But I’m going to try for you.”

  
Bradley sighed deeply, pressed his hand on my knee, and pinned me with a
breathtakingly direct look. “Mel, I can’t promise you anything,” he said. “I
care about you, I think I’m even falling for you.” His eyes closed off, and his
lips formed into a hard line. “Let’s just take this day by day, okay? This is
new for me. I’ve never let anyone see so much of me.”

  
I felt a cold shiver pass through me, and a feeling of dread twist my gut.
“What do you mean, this is new for you? Have you never shared yourself with
anyone before?” I asked. Then something else occurred to me, and I asked “Have
you never been in a long term relationship?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the
answer to that question, but I had to ask. I had to know.

  
Bradley’s expression became sad, and he sighed in frustration. “I’m going to be
honest with you, Mel. Six months. That’s the longest relationship I’ve had.”

  
“Who left who?” I asked sharply.

  
Bradley sighed again, and ran his hand through his hair. “She left. Because I
wouldn’t let her in. She knew it wasn’t going anywhere.”

  
I started shaking my head so hard that my wine sloshed over the edge of my
glass. “Hey,” Bradley said gently, and stilled my head with his hands. “What’s
wrong, baby?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

  
I felt tears roll down my face. A few people strolling along the nearby path
glanced at us furtively, but I didn’t care. “I can’t do this,” I said, my voice
shaking. “I can’t get my heart broken again,” I added.

  
“Hey,” Bradley said again, brushing away my tears. “I’m not going anywhere.”  

  
“That’s what
he
said,” I choked out, and burst into heavy sobbing.

  
Bradley’s face clouded over again. “Who’s
he
?”

  
I gave him a pained, ironic smile, and said, “The boy who broke my heart. The
guy before Mr. Dull as Dishwater.”

  
Bradley smiled gently and asked, “Mr. Dull as Dishwater?”

  
I let out a slightly hysterical chuckle and said, “That’s what my good friend
Jen called him. He was Steady. Predictable. Controlling. Taming. Boring. Yeah,
that about sums it up. I thought if I changed my taste in men, I’d be better
off. But it didn’t work. I fooled myself for a while. Was even considering
marrying the guy. But then I realized I was lonelier with him than I would have
been on my own. So I left. Took a new job. Moved to New York.”

  
Bradley stroked my hair and said, “You need a big gulp of that wine. Come on,
drink up. Then tell me about the heartbreaker.”

  
I chugged back the glass, placed it emphatically back on the blanket, and gave
Bradley a pained, wry smile. “He was kind of like you,” I said, wiping the
remaining tears from my eyes.

  
“That’s not possible,” Bradley said, his expression teasing, “I’m an original.”

  
I threw my head back and laughed a little too loud. “You
are
an
original, Brad. But you still fit a type.”

  
“And what type is that?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.

  
I looked at him longingly and sighed. “The bad boy type.”

  
Bradley looked at me intently, biting down hard on his lower lip. “I did go
through a wild phase,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Starting in my late
teens. I just got so sick of having to be responsible all of the time,” he
said, his expression darkening. “I kept up my grades, aced Harvard Business
School, but I also played really hard.”

  
“Harvard,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Of course.” Then I considered for a
moment and looked at him questioningly. “How exactly did the tattoos and biker
look go over in an ultra prep school?”

  
Bradley shrugged his shoulders, a look of gleeful rebellion flashing across his
face. “That’s the funny thing. When you outperform everyone else by a mile in a
place like that, they accept your eccentricity. The kids at Harvard respected
success above everything else. I became the token cool kid in the nerd crew.”

  
I started chuckling softly and shook my head. “Hey,” he said gently, tilting up
my chin. “Glad to see you laughing again.”

  
I looked into his warm eyes and felt myself melt. “You make me smile, Brad. In
fact, you make me absolutely giddy. So giddy that I can’t even think straight.”
A little shiver of insecurity passed through me, and I felt my jaw tighten.

  
“And that scares you. Feeling so giddy. So out of control,” he said, stroking
my cheek. “I know the feeling,” he whispered softly.

  
I felt a little comforted by his words, but I was also still feeling uneasy.
Here I was, falling for a man who’d never really committed himself to a
relationship. I felt like I was slipping into one of my old, dangerous
patterns. “It comforts me to hear you say that,” I said, biting my lip, “But
David was also wild about me in the beginning.” Bradley’s eyes were urging me
to continue.

  
“We met at a café,” I said, feeling myself get a little dreamy at the memory.
“It was practically love at first sight. We were both studying art history.
We’d stay up all night talking about artists, the wonderful things we’d do to change
the world. Then we’d make love until the early hours of the morning. He’d
always bring me coffee in bed, then take me on wild adventures through the
city. Often we’d end up at an art gallery, both of us buzzing like crazy from
taking in such incredible art.”