Lust for the Enemy
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,938
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,938
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Lust for the Enemy
Title: Lust for the Enemy
Author: BelladonnaDeSade
Rating: NC-17
Quote: ‘An enemy to whom you show kindness becomes your friend, excepting lust, the indulgence of which increases its enmity.’ – Saadi (1210 – 1290)
**********
The gentle hum of subdued conversation. The smell of coffee and cigarettes.
The café was an elegant tribute to its European forbearers of the 1900’s. The tall windows were draped in swathes of burgundy velvet, a glittering crystal chandelier hanging suspended from the high ceiling. The room was designed to comfortably seat a hundred, but Sophia was amongst only twenty or so present at that time; the customers who had dined earlier in the evening were currently taking coffee downstairs, and the theatregoers who routinely dropped in for a nightcap had not yet arrived. Those present, however, provided a unique cross-section of the New York social scene that any gossip columnist would have gladly traded a limb to see. On one table, a Hollywood actress was chatting animatedly on her cell-phone; on another, an elderly senator and his mistress held hands behind a menu. There was even a Texan oil-baron – a living cliché with his cigar and cowboy hat – standing at the bar, taking long draughts from a glass of whisky and laughing loudly at his own jokes.
Nevertheless, in spite of such affluent competition, it was Sophia who was the object of most people’s furtive interest.
Even without her strikingly attractive appearance, as eldest daughter of the famous Ethan Lambert and heir to her father’s multi-billion dollar company, Sophia was used to attracting the attention of those around her. The Lambert Building – the immense glass skyscraper at the heart of the family’s business empire – had been built in the centre of the New York financial district and was considered something of a feature on the city’s towered horizon. Consequently, the Lamberts were well known within the Manhattan social elite, despite their long and frequent absences.
Sitting alone at one of the sofas by the window, Sophia looked down at her wristwatch and scowled. Eight-forty. That meant that Mr Hashimoto was almost half an hour late – an almost unforgivably rude amount of time in business circles. Perhaps due to her own professional disposition, or, more likely, as result of her father’s strict upbringing, Sophia was very particular about punctuality. In fact, if Mr Hashimoto wasn’t such a prominent client of LambertCorp Industries, she would have simply given up the wait and retired to her hotel suite.
...But Hashimoto *was* a prominent client, and that meant that Sophia was forced to make certain allowances. Sighing internally, she motioned at a nearby waiter to bring her another glass of bourbon. \'Just one more drink\', she promised herself. \'Just one more drink, and if the pompous old bastard hasn’t turned up after that, *then* I’ll leave.\'
Bored, impatient, and itching to leave, she drummed her fingertips against the table and glanced around the room, ignoring – for the moment – the faint headache that was beginning to throb at the back of her skull. A small collection of the evening’s newspapers had been set on a silver rack close by, positioned so that the headlines could be viewed at a distance. One particular edition caught her eye immediately. It was the business section of the Daily Telegraph, thoughtfully separated from the rest of the broadsheet for the convenience of the businessmen that frequented the café at this time of night. The headline was brief and to the point: ‘LambertCorp closes billion dollar deal with Nansei Electronics’.
Sophia took the paper from the rack and scanned the contents of the article, eyes narrowed as she read. She already knew most of the details of the report, of course...after all, she had overseen much of the deal personally. With so much of Ethan’s time occupied by *other* matters, it had been up to his daughter to supervise the final stages of the Nansei contract, securing both a healthy profit for LambertCorp and access to technology that could be adapted to suit her own more clandestine projects. Sophia’s meeting with Mr Hosokawa – the CEO of Nansei Electronics – was supposed to be in celebration of the deal.
Apparently, however, Hosokawa didn’t care much for celebrating, and that left Sophia at something of a loose end.
An unexpected tremor against her thigh suddenly drew her attention. Sophia frowned, reaching into her handbag and withdrawing the silently ringing cell-phone. A quick glance at the glowing neon screen identified the caller as ‘Ethan Lambert –London Office’.
She flipped open the cell and held it up against her ear. “Dad.”
“Sophia,” Her father’s unmistakable drawl was relaxed and characteristically distant, even across the mediating satellite technology. “I just heard about the Nansei contract. Congratulations.”
By way of habit, Sophia found herself smiling sardonically – more a wry twist of the mouth than any genuine expression of pleasure. “Why thank you, dad. That certainly means a lot coming from you.”
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know. If you’re going to rebuke my attempts at paternal approval, I’d like you at least put some effort into it.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Sophia paused – just long enough to make her indifference clear – and then cleared her throat pointedly. “Is this a social call? Only as pleasant as it is to chat with you, I’m really very busy.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Well, I’ll cut to the chase then, shall I? I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to bypass the Tokyo trip, darling. I need you back in London.”
“I see. Any particular reason why?”
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said that I missed your company?”
“Not for a second.”
An indistinct noise sounded on the other end of the line. A laugh perhaps? Sophia couldn’t be certain. “Then allow me to clarify my original statement. It wasn’t a request, Sophia. It was an order.”
In her minds eye Sophia could imagine Ethan at that precise moment, sitting miles away in the fire-lit seclusion of his English home, a decanter of scotch in one hand and phone in the other. The image was so deliciously Machiavellian that she almost snorted aloud at her father’s triteness. “I’m not under any obligation to follow your orders anymore, dad. I run LambertCorp now, remember?”
“And you’re doing a *marvellous* job, sweetheart, really. Nevertheless, I’m going to have to ask you to leave New York. For the time being, at least.”
A waiter bearing a fresh glass of bourbon on an ornate silver tray suddenly appeared at Sophia’s shoulder, momentarily diverting her attention. She accepted the drink with a polite nod before continuing. “Sounds important. Should I be worried?”
Ethan seemed to waver momentarily. “A certain amount of caution would be advisable, yes. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging a driver to pick you up outside your apartment tomorrow morning. There\'s a flight leaving for Heathrow at ten - I\'ve already booked your ticket.”
“How very considerate of you.”
To Sophia’s surprise – and interest – Ethan’s voice took on a distinctly irritated tone. “I’m trying to look out for your welfare here. You could at least have the decency to take me seriously.”
Sophia’s expression clouded marginally. “And I do, dad. Very seriously.” Her eyes narrowed as she sipped at her bourbon. “So who’s after me this time, hm? Not another deranged ex-boyfriend, I hope?”
Ethan chuckled fondly, as if the comment amused him. “As if I would waste your time over something so *trivial*. No darling, this time I’m afraid you’re playing against a much more significant opponent than one of your jilted whores.”
“Maybe I should stick around. It might be interesting.”
“I’d really rather that you didn’t. Come back to England, hm? For me?”
Sophia leaned back into the soft expanse of cushions, one long leg stretched nonchalantly out before her. “Well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?”
“Good. I’ll see you soon then?”
“Yeah, soon.”
There was a soft click as Ethan cut the connection, leaving Sophia frowning thoughtfully down into her glass. Slowly, carefully, she closed the cell-phone and put it back into her bag, silently replaying the conversation in her mind. Her father was playing games again, that much was clear. He had never forgiven her for stealing the business out from underneath him, and she had always understood that it was only a matter of time before he made a move to take it back. Nevertheless, his sudden lapse into secrecy and double-speak perturbed her. She did not like feeling unprepared.
Forehead lined with introspection, she swirled the remainder of her bourbon round before downing it in a single gulp. When the waiter reappeared and quietly inquired if she needed another drink, Sophia found herself nodding. “Scotch, thanks. Actually, could you make it a double?”
The waiter nodded and scurried away, his silent obedience betraying a lifetimes worth of experience in serving the wealthy and the powerful. Absently, Sophia found herself watching the young man’s swiftly retreating back with impassive approval. She liked it when servants knew their place.
“Drinking doubles already? You’re planning on making a night of it, I see.”
She blinked and turned at the unexpected voice, startled to find a man standing close beside her elbow. She was faintly surprised by the fact that he had managed to approach without his noticing. What was even more surprising, however, was the fact that he was tall, dark-haired, and attractive, and that was exactly the kind of person that Sophia usually took particular notice of.
She allowed her gaze to flicker over him once – enough to demonstrate her interest – then shrugged and turned away. “I’m in no hurry to go home,” she replied coolly, a still-lingering sense of teenage defiance resisting Ethan’s orders to return to London. Sophia Lambert took orders from nobody...least of all her father.
He seemed surprised by her answer, but not unimpressed, and Sophia took the opportunity to study him more closely. He was, she noted, beautiful in the European manner, with milky-cream skin, high cheekbones, and fashionably long hair swept back over his forehead. Apparently in his mid forties, he was considerable older than the kind of men that she usually went for, but his suit bulged in all the right places, and that was all that mattered to her...
“Well then,” the man said, smiling as he moved to seat herself on the sofa opposite. “I suppose that makes two of us. I’m Alexander Voslenksy, by the way.”
“Sophia Lambert.”
The introduction was, she knew, unnecessary. Alexander’s eyes widened a fraction, and Sophia instantly recognised the calculating glint of ambition as he surveyed her more openly. “Of LambertCorp?”
“The very same.”
The disclosure prompted a knowing smirk from the older man, and he made a point of leaning forward in his seat. “How very interesting. Well then, Miss Lambert, may I ask what brings you to Manhattan – business or pleasure?”
Sophia allowed her gaze to stray appreciatively over his body. He was an exceptionally attractive man – all angular features and beautiful dark eyes – and she was not shy about letting him know it. “A little of both, I hope,” she murmured teasingly.
Alexander laughed, and Sophia knew that she’d hit the jackpot.
Within twenty minutes they were standing in front of her apartment, Sophia deftly untying his belt with one hand as she unlocked the front door with the other to allow him in....
**********
Sophia’s New York apartment was located on the penthouse floor of a converted warehouse, a stylish expanse of exposed brickwork and lovingly restored carpentry. Its elevated position afforded both unrivalled views of the city skyline and a sense of privacy from the rest of the building’s residence – the kind of elegant isolation that was the sole reserve of the rich and powerful. She hadn’t given a second thought as to the cost of such a prestigious address, but it was more than most LambertCorp employees earned in a lifetime.
Money, however, like so many other things, was of little concern to Sophia Lambert.
The apartment had been purchased on a whim, lived in as an afterthought, but she had obviously gone to the trouble of overseeing the interior decorating personally. Her distinctive presence was to be felt in every room, from the soft leather sofas and carefully displayed antiques, to the state-of-the-art cappuccino machine that dominated the clean, sleek lines of the kitchen. The overall effect wasn’t exactly homely, but it was certainly impressive. Her bedroom too was visually remarkable. The bed was of enormous proportions – wide enough to accommodate four people comfortably, let alone two – and the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with glittering mirrors.
It was in these mirror’s reflected surfaces that she was now enjoying watching herself get thoroughly fucked.
She was crouched down on all fours like an animal, her naked body warmed in tones of copper and cream in the lamp light. Alexander was pounding into her vigorously from behind – his hands gripping at her hips to steady himself, sweat glittering on the hard lines of his chest. With every thrust he seemed to drive further into her pussy, ploughing through the tight passage as though determined to split her in two.
A particularly deep lunge made Sophia moan wantonly. Alexander gave a breathless grin and grunted, pushing forward until his penis lay buried inside her in its entirety.
“Do you like that?” he asked fervently, “Is that what you want? More?”
Sophia gritted her teeth, expression contorting into a snarl of pleasure. “Oh God, yes...”
“Tell me. Tell me what you want.”
Another vicious stab inside her. Sophia shuddered, the entrance to her womb filled so completely that she could hardly breath. “Fuck me,” she demanded, impatient for more. “Just fuck me!”
Alexander threw his head back and eagerly complied, pushing forward with such force that Sophia had to grasp at the bed sheets to keep her balance. She continued to watch her refection through half-lowered eyelids, desire only intensified by what she was seeing. Her full, round breasts were swinging energetically beneath her, nipples flushed coral pink in arousal. Even more stimulating, however, was the sight of Alexander’s long penis thrusting deep into her body. She watched – captivated – as it withdrew almost to the head, it’s veined length slick from her own excitement, before plunging back inside her once more, balls slapping violently against the backs of her thighs.
He bit back on a strangled cry and muttered something in...what? Russian? Czech? Sophia couldn’t tell, but it was one of the most deeply erotic sounds she had ever heard.
She spread her knees further apart, urging him deeper though knowing that it was impossible – he was already driving in as far as he could reach. She could feel his frenzied movements inside her body and it was driving her to distraction. Resting her weight on one hand, she allowed the other to slide up to her pussy, slipping her index finger inside the fleshy folds to rub at her swollen clit. The contact sent a wave of creamy pleasure flooding through her hips. She gave a choked whimper, allowing her eyes to drift blissfully shut.
Alexander was close to climaxing...she could tell. A deep furrow of concentration appeared between his eyebrows, and his thrusts were becoming faster, shallower. Looking up into the mirror once more, she saw the firm curve of his buttocks clenching, his stomach tensing into a tight six-pack. Almost absently, she wondered how often he worked out. The man had the body of an Adonis, and playmates of such calibre were a very rare find indeed...
Sophia was panting like a bitch on heat. Her mouth hung open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight, her scarlet lipstick smeared from Alexander’s earlier impassioned kisses. She continued to stroke frantically at her clit, the small peak throbbing painfully with every prod of her finger. Her taut hole – stretched beyond endurance by the sizable penis within – was oozing liquid, and she could feel the growing pressure begin to build in her centre.
Alexander leaned forward, resting his arms on either side of her ribs so that he could whisper heatedly against her ear. “You’re so tight...it’s like fucking a virgin.”
Sophia felt the weight of her breasts rocking violently. Every thrust of his hips sent her whole body surging forwards, and it was taking every ounce of self-control she had left just to remain upright.
“I’m no virgin,” she hissed, pushing back to impale herself on his invading length.
Alexander gave a breathless laugh and ran his tongue over the rim of her ear. “I can tell. You moan like a whore, you know that? A cheap, filthy *whore...*”
His words were enough to push her over the edge. Something deep inside her exploded, sending a chain reaction of rapture sweeping through her body. Hot pleasure flooded from her centre like an invisible flame, her whole body jerking uncontrollably. She could feel her innermost walls shuddering, tightening, contracting around the iron-hard member still straining inside her...it was almost too much to bear...
With a hoarse yell, Alexander suddenly came.
He drove forward with all his strength, riding out the waves of his climax with brutal ferocity. She felt him tremor as his penis spurted hot semen inside her, balls heavy against her thighs. He held on to his orgasm for longer than any man she’d ever had, shooting what felt like an impossible amount of sperm deep within her womb. Even after he’d wrenched the last drop of liquid from his balls, he continued to fuck her, using her hands to force her aching hips back onto his waning cock. She sobbed in ecstasy, still carried on a dizzying high of her own. A tingling sensation, like rays of electricity, beat like a pulse within her tender clit. She hadn’t had sex this good in a long time...
Finally, Alexander gave a low grunt and begrudgingly slid his penis from its resting place. Sophia felt a fine trickle of fluid running down her leg and absently wondered whose cum it was – his or hers? It hardly seemed to matter. She gave a contented sigh and dropped forward to lie on her stomach, smiling faintly as she felt Alexander move to rest beside her. A large hand came to rest on her ass cheek, kneading the warm flesh with appreciative fingers.
“That,” he murmured, “Was amazing.”
Sophia ran her tongue over her lower lip, tasting sweat and old lipstick, but found that she lacked the energy to speak. Instead she simply nodded and closed her eyes, feeling the usual post-climax drowsiness already taking hold of her. She drifted happily on a dream-like haze, body still burning from its recent exertions. If she had known that this would be the outcome from her failed meeting with Mr Hashimoto, she certainly wouldn’t have minded being kept waiting.
She felt Alexander’s warm breath caressing her neck. He kissed her lightly on the shoulder, then drifted upwards to nuzzle languidly against her cheek.
“I’m only sorry that it has to end like this,” he told her, tone briefly regretful. “Though if it’s any consolation, my love, you really were an incredible fuck.”
Sophia frowned, confused, and opened her eyes to look at him. “What th-”
Before she could even speak, however, she felt a hard hand clamp down over her lips, stuffing a rag of material over her mouth and nose. Startled, she tried to struggle, but Alexander swung his legs cross her back and weighed her down, pining her wrists high above her head. She thrashed against his hold, but he was just too strong, and with a sudden bolt of alarm she realised that the rag he’d placed over her face was wet and had a strongly chemical smell...
...The last thing she saw before passing out completely was Alexander’s eyes, dark and glittering, like chips of black ice in the space above her. She stared at him with heart-felt terror, a single tear slipping hotly down her cheek. Why? Why would he do this...?
...Then she fell into darkness, and knew no more.
**********
Author: BelladonnaDeSade
Rating: NC-17
Quote: ‘An enemy to whom you show kindness becomes your friend, excepting lust, the indulgence of which increases its enmity.’ – Saadi (1210 – 1290)
**********
The gentle hum of subdued conversation. The smell of coffee and cigarettes.
The café was an elegant tribute to its European forbearers of the 1900’s. The tall windows were draped in swathes of burgundy velvet, a glittering crystal chandelier hanging suspended from the high ceiling. The room was designed to comfortably seat a hundred, but Sophia was amongst only twenty or so present at that time; the customers who had dined earlier in the evening were currently taking coffee downstairs, and the theatregoers who routinely dropped in for a nightcap had not yet arrived. Those present, however, provided a unique cross-section of the New York social scene that any gossip columnist would have gladly traded a limb to see. On one table, a Hollywood actress was chatting animatedly on her cell-phone; on another, an elderly senator and his mistress held hands behind a menu. There was even a Texan oil-baron – a living cliché with his cigar and cowboy hat – standing at the bar, taking long draughts from a glass of whisky and laughing loudly at his own jokes.
Nevertheless, in spite of such affluent competition, it was Sophia who was the object of most people’s furtive interest.
Even without her strikingly attractive appearance, as eldest daughter of the famous Ethan Lambert and heir to her father’s multi-billion dollar company, Sophia was used to attracting the attention of those around her. The Lambert Building – the immense glass skyscraper at the heart of the family’s business empire – had been built in the centre of the New York financial district and was considered something of a feature on the city’s towered horizon. Consequently, the Lamberts were well known within the Manhattan social elite, despite their long and frequent absences.
Sitting alone at one of the sofas by the window, Sophia looked down at her wristwatch and scowled. Eight-forty. That meant that Mr Hashimoto was almost half an hour late – an almost unforgivably rude amount of time in business circles. Perhaps due to her own professional disposition, or, more likely, as result of her father’s strict upbringing, Sophia was very particular about punctuality. In fact, if Mr Hashimoto wasn’t such a prominent client of LambertCorp Industries, she would have simply given up the wait and retired to her hotel suite.
...But Hashimoto *was* a prominent client, and that meant that Sophia was forced to make certain allowances. Sighing internally, she motioned at a nearby waiter to bring her another glass of bourbon. \'Just one more drink\', she promised herself. \'Just one more drink, and if the pompous old bastard hasn’t turned up after that, *then* I’ll leave.\'
Bored, impatient, and itching to leave, she drummed her fingertips against the table and glanced around the room, ignoring – for the moment – the faint headache that was beginning to throb at the back of her skull. A small collection of the evening’s newspapers had been set on a silver rack close by, positioned so that the headlines could be viewed at a distance. One particular edition caught her eye immediately. It was the business section of the Daily Telegraph, thoughtfully separated from the rest of the broadsheet for the convenience of the businessmen that frequented the café at this time of night. The headline was brief and to the point: ‘LambertCorp closes billion dollar deal with Nansei Electronics’.
Sophia took the paper from the rack and scanned the contents of the article, eyes narrowed as she read. She already knew most of the details of the report, of course...after all, she had overseen much of the deal personally. With so much of Ethan’s time occupied by *other* matters, it had been up to his daughter to supervise the final stages of the Nansei contract, securing both a healthy profit for LambertCorp and access to technology that could be adapted to suit her own more clandestine projects. Sophia’s meeting with Mr Hosokawa – the CEO of Nansei Electronics – was supposed to be in celebration of the deal.
Apparently, however, Hosokawa didn’t care much for celebrating, and that left Sophia at something of a loose end.
An unexpected tremor against her thigh suddenly drew her attention. Sophia frowned, reaching into her handbag and withdrawing the silently ringing cell-phone. A quick glance at the glowing neon screen identified the caller as ‘Ethan Lambert –London Office’.
She flipped open the cell and held it up against her ear. “Dad.”
“Sophia,” Her father’s unmistakable drawl was relaxed and characteristically distant, even across the mediating satellite technology. “I just heard about the Nansei contract. Congratulations.”
By way of habit, Sophia found herself smiling sardonically – more a wry twist of the mouth than any genuine expression of pleasure. “Why thank you, dad. That certainly means a lot coming from you.”
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know. If you’re going to rebuke my attempts at paternal approval, I’d like you at least put some effort into it.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Sophia paused – just long enough to make her indifference clear – and then cleared her throat pointedly. “Is this a social call? Only as pleasant as it is to chat with you, I’m really very busy.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Well, I’ll cut to the chase then, shall I? I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to bypass the Tokyo trip, darling. I need you back in London.”
“I see. Any particular reason why?”
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said that I missed your company?”
“Not for a second.”
An indistinct noise sounded on the other end of the line. A laugh perhaps? Sophia couldn’t be certain. “Then allow me to clarify my original statement. It wasn’t a request, Sophia. It was an order.”
In her minds eye Sophia could imagine Ethan at that precise moment, sitting miles away in the fire-lit seclusion of his English home, a decanter of scotch in one hand and phone in the other. The image was so deliciously Machiavellian that she almost snorted aloud at her father’s triteness. “I’m not under any obligation to follow your orders anymore, dad. I run LambertCorp now, remember?”
“And you’re doing a *marvellous* job, sweetheart, really. Nevertheless, I’m going to have to ask you to leave New York. For the time being, at least.”
A waiter bearing a fresh glass of bourbon on an ornate silver tray suddenly appeared at Sophia’s shoulder, momentarily diverting her attention. She accepted the drink with a polite nod before continuing. “Sounds important. Should I be worried?”
Ethan seemed to waver momentarily. “A certain amount of caution would be advisable, yes. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging a driver to pick you up outside your apartment tomorrow morning. There\'s a flight leaving for Heathrow at ten - I\'ve already booked your ticket.”
“How very considerate of you.”
To Sophia’s surprise – and interest – Ethan’s voice took on a distinctly irritated tone. “I’m trying to look out for your welfare here. You could at least have the decency to take me seriously.”
Sophia’s expression clouded marginally. “And I do, dad. Very seriously.” Her eyes narrowed as she sipped at her bourbon. “So who’s after me this time, hm? Not another deranged ex-boyfriend, I hope?”
Ethan chuckled fondly, as if the comment amused him. “As if I would waste your time over something so *trivial*. No darling, this time I’m afraid you’re playing against a much more significant opponent than one of your jilted whores.”
“Maybe I should stick around. It might be interesting.”
“I’d really rather that you didn’t. Come back to England, hm? For me?”
Sophia leaned back into the soft expanse of cushions, one long leg stretched nonchalantly out before her. “Well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?”
“Good. I’ll see you soon then?”
“Yeah, soon.”
There was a soft click as Ethan cut the connection, leaving Sophia frowning thoughtfully down into her glass. Slowly, carefully, she closed the cell-phone and put it back into her bag, silently replaying the conversation in her mind. Her father was playing games again, that much was clear. He had never forgiven her for stealing the business out from underneath him, and she had always understood that it was only a matter of time before he made a move to take it back. Nevertheless, his sudden lapse into secrecy and double-speak perturbed her. She did not like feeling unprepared.
Forehead lined with introspection, she swirled the remainder of her bourbon round before downing it in a single gulp. When the waiter reappeared and quietly inquired if she needed another drink, Sophia found herself nodding. “Scotch, thanks. Actually, could you make it a double?”
The waiter nodded and scurried away, his silent obedience betraying a lifetimes worth of experience in serving the wealthy and the powerful. Absently, Sophia found herself watching the young man’s swiftly retreating back with impassive approval. She liked it when servants knew their place.
“Drinking doubles already? You’re planning on making a night of it, I see.”
She blinked and turned at the unexpected voice, startled to find a man standing close beside her elbow. She was faintly surprised by the fact that he had managed to approach without his noticing. What was even more surprising, however, was the fact that he was tall, dark-haired, and attractive, and that was exactly the kind of person that Sophia usually took particular notice of.
She allowed her gaze to flicker over him once – enough to demonstrate her interest – then shrugged and turned away. “I’m in no hurry to go home,” she replied coolly, a still-lingering sense of teenage defiance resisting Ethan’s orders to return to London. Sophia Lambert took orders from nobody...least of all her father.
He seemed surprised by her answer, but not unimpressed, and Sophia took the opportunity to study him more closely. He was, she noted, beautiful in the European manner, with milky-cream skin, high cheekbones, and fashionably long hair swept back over his forehead. Apparently in his mid forties, he was considerable older than the kind of men that she usually went for, but his suit bulged in all the right places, and that was all that mattered to her...
“Well then,” the man said, smiling as he moved to seat herself on the sofa opposite. “I suppose that makes two of us. I’m Alexander Voslenksy, by the way.”
“Sophia Lambert.”
The introduction was, she knew, unnecessary. Alexander’s eyes widened a fraction, and Sophia instantly recognised the calculating glint of ambition as he surveyed her more openly. “Of LambertCorp?”
“The very same.”
The disclosure prompted a knowing smirk from the older man, and he made a point of leaning forward in his seat. “How very interesting. Well then, Miss Lambert, may I ask what brings you to Manhattan – business or pleasure?”
Sophia allowed her gaze to stray appreciatively over his body. He was an exceptionally attractive man – all angular features and beautiful dark eyes – and she was not shy about letting him know it. “A little of both, I hope,” she murmured teasingly.
Alexander laughed, and Sophia knew that she’d hit the jackpot.
Within twenty minutes they were standing in front of her apartment, Sophia deftly untying his belt with one hand as she unlocked the front door with the other to allow him in....
**********
Sophia’s New York apartment was located on the penthouse floor of a converted warehouse, a stylish expanse of exposed brickwork and lovingly restored carpentry. Its elevated position afforded both unrivalled views of the city skyline and a sense of privacy from the rest of the building’s residence – the kind of elegant isolation that was the sole reserve of the rich and powerful. She hadn’t given a second thought as to the cost of such a prestigious address, but it was more than most LambertCorp employees earned in a lifetime.
Money, however, like so many other things, was of little concern to Sophia Lambert.
The apartment had been purchased on a whim, lived in as an afterthought, but she had obviously gone to the trouble of overseeing the interior decorating personally. Her distinctive presence was to be felt in every room, from the soft leather sofas and carefully displayed antiques, to the state-of-the-art cappuccino machine that dominated the clean, sleek lines of the kitchen. The overall effect wasn’t exactly homely, but it was certainly impressive. Her bedroom too was visually remarkable. The bed was of enormous proportions – wide enough to accommodate four people comfortably, let alone two – and the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with glittering mirrors.
It was in these mirror’s reflected surfaces that she was now enjoying watching herself get thoroughly fucked.
She was crouched down on all fours like an animal, her naked body warmed in tones of copper and cream in the lamp light. Alexander was pounding into her vigorously from behind – his hands gripping at her hips to steady himself, sweat glittering on the hard lines of his chest. With every thrust he seemed to drive further into her pussy, ploughing through the tight passage as though determined to split her in two.
A particularly deep lunge made Sophia moan wantonly. Alexander gave a breathless grin and grunted, pushing forward until his penis lay buried inside her in its entirety.
“Do you like that?” he asked fervently, “Is that what you want? More?”
Sophia gritted her teeth, expression contorting into a snarl of pleasure. “Oh God, yes...”
“Tell me. Tell me what you want.”
Another vicious stab inside her. Sophia shuddered, the entrance to her womb filled so completely that she could hardly breath. “Fuck me,” she demanded, impatient for more. “Just fuck me!”
Alexander threw his head back and eagerly complied, pushing forward with such force that Sophia had to grasp at the bed sheets to keep her balance. She continued to watch her refection through half-lowered eyelids, desire only intensified by what she was seeing. Her full, round breasts were swinging energetically beneath her, nipples flushed coral pink in arousal. Even more stimulating, however, was the sight of Alexander’s long penis thrusting deep into her body. She watched – captivated – as it withdrew almost to the head, it’s veined length slick from her own excitement, before plunging back inside her once more, balls slapping violently against the backs of her thighs.
He bit back on a strangled cry and muttered something in...what? Russian? Czech? Sophia couldn’t tell, but it was one of the most deeply erotic sounds she had ever heard.
She spread her knees further apart, urging him deeper though knowing that it was impossible – he was already driving in as far as he could reach. She could feel his frenzied movements inside her body and it was driving her to distraction. Resting her weight on one hand, she allowed the other to slide up to her pussy, slipping her index finger inside the fleshy folds to rub at her swollen clit. The contact sent a wave of creamy pleasure flooding through her hips. She gave a choked whimper, allowing her eyes to drift blissfully shut.
Alexander was close to climaxing...she could tell. A deep furrow of concentration appeared between his eyebrows, and his thrusts were becoming faster, shallower. Looking up into the mirror once more, she saw the firm curve of his buttocks clenching, his stomach tensing into a tight six-pack. Almost absently, she wondered how often he worked out. The man had the body of an Adonis, and playmates of such calibre were a very rare find indeed...
Sophia was panting like a bitch on heat. Her mouth hung open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight, her scarlet lipstick smeared from Alexander’s earlier impassioned kisses. She continued to stroke frantically at her clit, the small peak throbbing painfully with every prod of her finger. Her taut hole – stretched beyond endurance by the sizable penis within – was oozing liquid, and she could feel the growing pressure begin to build in her centre.
Alexander leaned forward, resting his arms on either side of her ribs so that he could whisper heatedly against her ear. “You’re so tight...it’s like fucking a virgin.”
Sophia felt the weight of her breasts rocking violently. Every thrust of his hips sent her whole body surging forwards, and it was taking every ounce of self-control she had left just to remain upright.
“I’m no virgin,” she hissed, pushing back to impale herself on his invading length.
Alexander gave a breathless laugh and ran his tongue over the rim of her ear. “I can tell. You moan like a whore, you know that? A cheap, filthy *whore...*”
His words were enough to push her over the edge. Something deep inside her exploded, sending a chain reaction of rapture sweeping through her body. Hot pleasure flooded from her centre like an invisible flame, her whole body jerking uncontrollably. She could feel her innermost walls shuddering, tightening, contracting around the iron-hard member still straining inside her...it was almost too much to bear...
With a hoarse yell, Alexander suddenly came.
He drove forward with all his strength, riding out the waves of his climax with brutal ferocity. She felt him tremor as his penis spurted hot semen inside her, balls heavy against her thighs. He held on to his orgasm for longer than any man she’d ever had, shooting what felt like an impossible amount of sperm deep within her womb. Even after he’d wrenched the last drop of liquid from his balls, he continued to fuck her, using her hands to force her aching hips back onto his waning cock. She sobbed in ecstasy, still carried on a dizzying high of her own. A tingling sensation, like rays of electricity, beat like a pulse within her tender clit. She hadn’t had sex this good in a long time...
Finally, Alexander gave a low grunt and begrudgingly slid his penis from its resting place. Sophia felt a fine trickle of fluid running down her leg and absently wondered whose cum it was – his or hers? It hardly seemed to matter. She gave a contented sigh and dropped forward to lie on her stomach, smiling faintly as she felt Alexander move to rest beside her. A large hand came to rest on her ass cheek, kneading the warm flesh with appreciative fingers.
“That,” he murmured, “Was amazing.”
Sophia ran her tongue over her lower lip, tasting sweat and old lipstick, but found that she lacked the energy to speak. Instead she simply nodded and closed her eyes, feeling the usual post-climax drowsiness already taking hold of her. She drifted happily on a dream-like haze, body still burning from its recent exertions. If she had known that this would be the outcome from her failed meeting with Mr Hashimoto, she certainly wouldn’t have minded being kept waiting.
She felt Alexander’s warm breath caressing her neck. He kissed her lightly on the shoulder, then drifted upwards to nuzzle languidly against her cheek.
“I’m only sorry that it has to end like this,” he told her, tone briefly regretful. “Though if it’s any consolation, my love, you really were an incredible fuck.”
Sophia frowned, confused, and opened her eyes to look at him. “What th-”
Before she could even speak, however, she felt a hard hand clamp down over her lips, stuffing a rag of material over her mouth and nose. Startled, she tried to struggle, but Alexander swung his legs cross her back and weighed her down, pining her wrists high above her head. She thrashed against his hold, but he was just too strong, and with a sudden bolt of alarm she realised that the rag he’d placed over her face was wet and had a strongly chemical smell...
...The last thing she saw before passing out completely was Alexander’s eyes, dark and glittering, like chips of black ice in the space above her. She stared at him with heart-felt terror, a single tear slipping hotly down her cheek. Why? Why would he do this...?
...Then she fell into darkness, and knew no more.
**********