Chapter 47
Forty-Seven
I ’d discovered something new about Alfie Tell. He hadn’t watched a film in over twenty years.
“ Dumbo? Dumbo was the last film you ever saw?” I was sitting on the arm of an armchair, tucking into one of the many desserts I’d ordered from the service menu.
My gorgeous man was sitting on the plush couch, holding the remote as if it might explode and flicking through the movie channels with a frown on his face.
“Call me crazy, Lola, but I don’t particularly enjoy laying sedentary for several hours with my brain switched off.”
“You’re crazy.” I grinned and spooned another dollop of ice-cream into my mouth. He looked over at me. His expression feigned annoyance but his eyes danced with amusement. I held out my spoon, offering him some ice-cream, but he just grimaced and turned back to the screen.
“I don’t know how you can eat like that. You’ll give yourself heart disease.” I responded by picking a cherry from the gateaux on the dessert trolley and throwing it at him. It missed him by a mile. “I suppose hand-eye coordination isn’t your strong suit?”
“You suppose correctly. Now hurry up and choose something.”
Alfie had looked shocked when I’d turned down his offer of dinner and diamonds for ice-cream and sweet kisses.
At first he’d tried to persuade me, even gotten annoyed when I’d ordered a bunch of desserts and he’d realised I was serious.
I’d told him to just relax and so of course he’d stood around as stiff as a board until eventually I’d placed the remote in his hand.
His mood hadn’t improved much. He’d been scrolling for ten minutes, his features set in grim distaste as he flicked through chick flicks and action films.
“Remind me again why I’m watching a film with you instead of fucking you senseless?”
“Because it’s what couples do. They eat crappy food and watch a crappy film and then go to bed too tired and lethargic to have crazy, passionate sex.” I spooned another mouthful of gooey chocolate ice-cream into my mouth.
“That sounds awful.”
“Okay, Mr Serious, what would you rather do?” I asked as I went in for another spoonful of ice-cream. He was silent for a beat and when I looked up I found his eyes on me.
“Come here.”
The ice-cream quickly melted in my mouth and I gulped it down. “I thought we were going to watch a film.”
Without looking at the screen, he picked up the remote and pressed select at random. The opening credits of Die Hard began to play. He muted it and tossed the remote onto the glass coffee table.
“Come here, Lola,” he repeated, his eyes flashing with excitement as he waited to see what I would do. This was one of Alfie’s favourite parts—the build up, the chase. He was in his element. I stood and placed my half-finished ice cream on the dessert trolley.
“Bring it with you,” he commanded. I raised my brows in light-hearted curiosity. Whatever Alfie was about to do, I knew I was going to enjoy it and I practically skipped across the living room, coming to a stop in front of him.
He looked like a king in front of me, even in a t-shirt and sweatpants. He sat, arms draped over the back of the couch, appraising me as if I was an offering, a new jewel for his trove, a new addition to his harem. I placed the ice cream on the glass coffee table and turned to face him.
“Take that off,” he instructed, his eyes flickering over the shirt I wore.
I wondered if I would ever stop being nervous about revealing my body to him.
I forced the insecurity back into the shallow pits of my stomach and whipped the shirt over my head.
I held it in a ball in front of me before letting it drop to the floor.
He nodded his approval and I couldn’t help the small twinge of happiness I felt at knowing I’d pleased him.
“You don’t like stripping in front of me do you?
” he asked, his eyes firmly on mine. This was something I’d noticed about Alfie.
Even when I was naked, his gaze remained on my face more than any of my more obvious attractions.
It wasn’t enough for him to fuck me. He needed to get inside my mind, my very soul.
“It makes me nervous,” I admitted, my hands twisting in front of me.
“That’s why I make you do it.”
“Why?”
He was silent for a moment and I wondered if this was yet another question I wasn’t going to get an answer to, but then he spoke.
“Being nervous makes you vulnerable. It opens you up, and I need you completely open or I can’t read you.
” I tilted my head, not understanding him at all.
“Sex is as much a mental process as it is a physical one. I can lay you out on that table and have you gushing all over me within minutes, but if your mind isn’t connected to it, isn’t completely switched off from everything else, then it won’t be half as good for you, and half as good isn’t good enough for me. I achieve the highest, every time.”
“You play harder than everyone else,” I said, repeating to him the very words he’d spoken in that article.
“Exactly.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Women come in different ways. Some like a monster in their man. They like to be hurt. They need to be forced to it, dragged to it. Others need to be taken gently, coaxed to that pinnacle of pleasure. Others need to control it, need to dominate a man and ride it out. Then there are those that need to be controlled. Sit down.” I sat on the table, flinching at the cool surface against my skin.
He leaned forward and adjusted me as if I were a doll.
He pulled me forward until I was sitting just on the edge of the table.
Then, with a firm hand between my breasts, he pushed me back until my weight rested on my elbows.
He sat back, returning to his kingly pose.
He held my gaze in silent communication, telling me he wanted something else from me.
It only took a second for me to figure out what it was.
I steadied my nerves and raised my legs, spreading them wide apart, my knees high, my feet resting on the edge of the table.
He nodded his approval and again I felt that twinge of pleasure at making him happy.
His gaze remained on my face, never once dropping to the apex of my thighs that was now so very open to him. “Each woman gets off in a different way, but they get off in that same way every single time. Pain, control, ownership, sweetness, they’re all roads to the same place.”
“And me?” I murmured, breathless. “Which road do I take?”
“You take a different road every time, and I never know which one it’s going to be.
You know, I can learn in just a few sittings everything I need to know about a woman, sexually.
After fucking her once I know what she wants and how she wants it, exactly which spots to hit at which time.
I can learn exactly what she wants me to be. ”
I shivered at his words. Alfie Tell was the master of verbal foreplay.
“It’s all just rinse and repeat after that first time.
But you, you are new every time. I never know what you want from me or how you’re going to behave.
Sometimes you fight me, other times you don’t.
Sometimes you want me to fuck you one way but if I try that at another time, you hate it.
You fuck with me, Lola. Every single day you’re fucking with me and I can’t get enough of it. ”
“I don’t mean to fuck with you.” In this position, with my legs spread and him looking at me the way he was, it was getting very hard to concentrate.
“I know.” He leant forward, rested his forearms on his thighs, and looked me dead in the eye with a devilish grin on his face. “But I intend to fuck with you, often.”
My heart was beating so hard my chest hurt. The muscles in my arms and legs were beginning to ache at having to hold the position but I couldn’t move. He held me, poised on the precipice, waiting to see what he would do next. I should have known he would reach for the ice-cream.
He pulled the spoon out of the dessert, remnants of ice cold chocolate cream stuck to it, and he offered it to me. I took it into my mouth, relishing the taste. It was the thickest, richest ice-cream I’d ever tasted in my life.
“Taste good, baby?” he asked and I nodded, smiling slightly.
He returned the spoon to the ice-cream and this time when he withdrew it, instead of giving it to my mouth, he used the back of the cold spoon to smear ice-cream over my nipple.
I gasped at the contact, shivering at the feeling of ice cold metal against my burning hot skin.
It was an exquisite feeling, but even more exquisite was the way he watched me as I basked in his attention.
He took note of my every reaction, processing the information and storing it away for future use.
He wrapped a strong arm around my waist, arching my back and ducking his head to suck my nipple into his mouth.
My flesh went from ice cold to burning hot as his tongue and teeth did their work.
My thighs trembled, my core ached. It took all of my willpower not to just jump on him and ride him for my pleasure.
“Alfie, please,” I panted, desperate for him to stop toying with me. He released my nipple and gave me a wicked grin.
“Not yet, baby.” He returned the spoon to the ice-cream, sticking it in the centre at its coldest point. “Do you still trust me with your body?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.
He eyed me closely, as if making sure that I was telling the truth.
“This is going to be a little intense.”
My eyes widened, my heart rate picked up, and my mind swam in a heady mix of intoxicated anticipation. I gave him a small nod, telling him I could take whatever he was about to do.