Chapter Twelve
Wedged into the left side of the frame was a tiny camera. The moment Alexi strode into the room and stared at the empty frame, Donovan had mumbled, “I knew he was behind this.”
“Your plan worked so well,” Phoebe exclaimed as they watched the scene play out on Donovan’s laptop. “It’s brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. But I still think you should have had the portrait delivered so you could catch him red-handed.”
“Catching him with one piece isn’t enough. Look how he walked away with no consequences from the debacle in Southampton. Besides, I knew the shock of seeing nothing but framed glass would throw him into a rage, and now we have a recording of him saying… you have three days to bring me that portrait from Hawthorne Hall. He’s literally ordering those guys to commit a crime and threatening them with death if they don’t. And there was another thing. When I was talking to Peter I knew it would be a battle to get him to agree. He didn’t want it to leave Hawthorne Hall.”
“Ooh…” Phoebe murmured. “I’m sure, especially after he’d thought it had been stolen.”
“Exactly, and if Alexi had removed it from the frame there’s no telling where it might have ended up. It may have been lost to Peter forever. Before that frame is moved I’m hoping the camera will pick up some useful information, like, who his buyers are, or where he keeps his stolen property.”
“You mean we have to sit out here all night?’
“Lord no, I just need to find a place to hide this,” he declared, lifting a small black box from his briefcase. “But at this time of night it’s not so easy. We should probably just leave the car parked here overnight and catch a cab to the hotel around the corner. We could walk there, but I think it would be too far to lug the suitcases.”
“The hotel will have shops.”
“But they won’t be open now,” he replied, shooting her a look.
“Oh, right. Why don’t we just grab a few things and throw them in my overnight bag. If we need anything else we can pick it up in the morning.”
“Are you sure you’re not worried about walking down the street at this hour?”
“Did you forget how we first crossed paths?”
“Ah, yes, in a dark street during a raging storm in the middle of the night while I was being attacked by two thugs, all because you love an adrenalin rush.”
“Exactly. I have a passion for it,” she murmured, leaning across the console and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Like I have a passion for you. Let’s do it.”
* * *
By the time Donovan and Phoebe reached the hotel they were exhausted. The dramatic events of the day, the long drive and late night hour, had caught up with them. Peeling off their clothes, they slid between the sheets and fell asleep. But when they woke up the following morning with their limbs entwined and their naked bodies pressed against each other, their crackling chemistry ignited.
“What did you say about passion last night?” he grunted, kneading her breasts from behind as he sucked on her neck.
“That I have it for you,” she panted. “I swear I want you so much.”
Abruptly pushing her onto her stomach, he grabbed her hips, jerked them up, and landed a flurry of hot smacks on her upturned backside.
“Why are you spanking me? What have I done?”
“I don’t need a reason, I just love doing it. And you love it too.”
“Oh, my God, I do…and I want you.”
He’d left condoms on the nightstand, and reaching past her body he snatched one up, tore open the packet and hastily sheathed his stiffened cock.
“How much?” he teased, placing himself at her glistening entrance.
“Please, Donovan?” she begged, staring at him over her shoulder.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he shot back, slapping her again. “How much.”
“Very much, desperately.”
“Desperately works,” he muttered, slowly thrusting into her channel. “I wish we were in my dungeon right now. I’d shackle you to the spanking bench.”
“I would love that…”
“Yeah, I know,” he grunted, “but since your hands are free, put one against your pussy and rub your clit, but don’t you dare come.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s just what I wanted to hear. You remembered your place. Don’t ever forget it.”
“I won’t, Sir.”
“Rub harder,” he ordered, leaning over her to pinch her nipples.
Though she squealed, a moment later she moaned and begged for more. He obliged, sharply tweaking them, then straightened up and began vigorously stroking.
“Sir…!”
“What?”
“I’m— I’m—”
“Not yet, take your hand away,” he ordered, slowing his pace.
She groaned but dropped her arm, and though he couldn’t ignore his own growing arousal, he was determined to make it last.
“Please, Sir… please, let me/“
Ignoring her plea, he abruptly pulled out, grabbed her ankles, flipped her onto her back, and gazed down at her body for several, long seconds.
“Your tits are gorgeous,” he grunted, lowering his mouth to her puckered nipples. As he hungrily sucked, shifting from one to the other, she gasped, then moaned when he moved his mouth to her neck and fervently kneaded her breasts. “Tell me what you want?” he whispered, his lips at her ear.
“Please, Sir, fuck me, please fuck me and let me come.”
“Since you asked so nicely…”
Straightening up, he placed himself at her entrance, held her wrists, above her head, and slowly slid inside her. As he began to pump he lowered his mouth on hers in a slow, devouring kiss, but feeling his arousal begin to build, the kiss grew more intense and he was suddenly crushing her lips. When she began writhing beneath him and he sensed her orgasm building, he raised his head and began thrusting vigorously.
“I’m so c-close...” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
“Ask,” he growled, pausing to stare into her eyes.
“Please, Sir, please may I come?”
Her urgent plea sent a surge of fresh energy through his loins. Hastily releasing her wrists and kneeling up, he gripped her waist and propelled himself forward, ramming her pussy with abandon.
“Please, Sir, please may I come?” she repeated, her voice a high-pitched squeal.
“Give it to me! Give it to me now.”
For a fleeting moment he felt her stiffen, then her climax seized her, eliciting a shrill cry and hurtling him into his release. Spasms rocketed through his body sending intense sensations sparkling through his limbs. He never wanted the excruciating pleasure to end…but the convulsions petered out, leaving him breathless and with his heart pounding.
“Hey, Donovan?” she panted, curling against him as he collapsed beside her.
“Yeah?”
“I want to wake up like that every morning.”
“Finish the sentence.”
“Huh? Oh! Sorry. I want to wake up like that every morning, please, Sir.”