I can barely breathe, the blood rushing in my ears.
‘Do it.’
He gives my clit the lightest of feathery strokes then he stands up, releasing me from my pinions. Even now, I can’t really move, the struggle having sapped all power from me.
I gaze up at him, little blue spots dancing in my peripheral vision, taking in his well-cut suit and his elegant neck, his perfect hairstyle and the look of naked ferocity in his eyes. The devil went down to Savile Row.
He takes off his jacket, with its lining of grey-green silk, and casts it away from him, on to the bed. I used to admire that fluidity of movement, that prowling grace of his.
My mouth feels bruised and my bones ache.
I am wetter than he deserves.
I watch his fingers move lazily over the knot of his tie, freeing his neck from its tyranny. The length of silk slides under his collar and out; he winds it around his hand as if contemplating using it for bondage purposes and I catch a breath.
No. He can’t tie me up. I don’t trust him.
He looks from me to it, regret shadowing his face, then lets it fall to the ground.
Next his top button is undone, then the one beneath.
I wait for him to remove the whole shirt, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he pulls me up and spins me around and bends me over the desk the other way. I yelp at the sensation of the cold wood on my nipples, and yelp again when he takes my wrists and twists them behind my back. I kick out at him, finding his shins, but if he feels it, he doesn’t let it show.
‘Like this,’ he says, pushing his still trousered thighs into mine. ‘This is how I’d have done it.’ With his free hand he smacks the inside of my legs until I have them open wide enough to please him. ‘With so many competitors for your attention, I’d need to make sure I made an impression on you.’
‘If you hurt me I’ll kill you.’
‘I’m not going to hurt you, Sophie. I’m going to make you want me, even though I can’t have you. I’m going to make you see what you missed.’
‘I didn’t miss anything. You were never available.’
‘Don’t fight it. Give in to me. Let yourself go.’
His free hand starts to massage my pussy lips. I twitch and squirm, but he’s too good. My muscles relax and my body yields to him. Just this once, he can have me. Just this once, these juices are for him.
‘Oh, you do want it, don’t you? Are you this wet for all your men?’
I don’t reply. I don’t want him to know anything about me.
‘No wonder they always came back for more,’ he continues, brushing my clit, left to right, right to left. ‘You’re soaked, absolutely saturated in sex, aren’t you? I used to think of advertising your services, changing the name of the hotel bar to The Sure Thing. But we didn’t need advertising. Everyone knew where to go to get a good, hot fuck when they were in town. Your number’s in half the little black books of the business world.’
His pace increases; his pressure grows.
‘I wondered what it would take to impress you, Sophie. I wondered what a man had to do to make you want more of him. You took all the sex you wanted, but you never needed anybody, and that bothered me. Then Lloyd seemed to capture your attention and I was so angry. So jealous. What did he have, that jumped-up cocktail waiter, that I didn’t? I had to get rid of you all anyway. I was glad to get rid of you all. But I felt I’d missed my chance with you. If only I’d done this. Perhaps I’d have you chained to my bed on my Pacific isle right now.’
My breathing is fast and shallow. He lets go of my wrists, but I don’t want to move them. He uses his other hand to stroke my bum cheeks, pinching and squeezing.
‘You’re close, aren’t you?’
I nod.
‘How close?’
‘Very.’
‘So close. So very, very close.’