Chapter 42 #2
“Why? So that you can order me around some more? Manipulate me?” There was silence for a moment, then a loud bang as what I assumed was his fist connected with the door.
“Open the fucking door!” he shouted and continued his assault on the door.
He was gonna have a hell of a hotel bill if he broke it in. I giggled at the ridiculous notion of Alfie Tell worrying about something as silly as a hotel bill. I clamped a hand over my mouth. I felt like I was losing it.
My heart beat a heavy bassline in my chest. My hands trembled.
I felt like I was having a panic attack.
What the hell is wrong with me? I didn’t want to admit that I already knew the answer.
I was anxious and frightened, not because I was scared of Alfie, but because I was separated from him.
Out there I’d been angry, but exhilarated too.
In here, with him on the other side of that door, I felt lost. Adrift.
I sank to the floor.
Was I out of my mind to consider leaving him if this was how I felt just being separated by a door?
No. My dream mattered too.
“Tell me you’ll give me time to think about it,” I yelled, not sure if he’d hear me over the noise of him trying to break the door down.
“Fine.” The banging stopped and I could almost picture him panting with exertion, his forehead resting against the door.
“I want a promise, Alfie. No more manipulation. You’ll let me decide on my own.” I wondered if he could hear the tremble in my voice.
“Open the door, baby.” He sounded as adrift as I was. I stood and grasped the door handle, ready to open it as soon as I had his word. This was a dirty way of getting it and I hated reducing myself to his level, but he’d given me no other choice. He’d made me this way.
“Promise me.”
There were a few moments of silence.
“I promise.”
I opened the door slowly and found his grey eyes glinting at me. My heart stopped. I’d just made a big mistake.
“What did you say this morning about an agreement gotten over a barrel being worthless?” He stepped through the doorway and I backed away. There was nowhere else to run now, nothing in the room but a huge flat screen, a snooker table, and a few other useless forms of entertainment.
“Don’t,” I warned as he stalked towards me.
“Stop me.”
I placed my hands against his chest but he didn’t slow for a second.
He walked us backwards until I hit the snooker table.
In seconds, he lifted me and dumped me on the billiards cloth.
He reached under my dress and ripped my underwear off and before I could react, he’d climbed onto the table, kneed my legs apart, and was looming over me.
I wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss me or strangle me, and from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t sure either.
I could hardly breathe as I gazed up at him, completely captivated.
He lowered himself and, keeping his eyes on mine, pressed his crotch up against me.
His erection pressed against my core and my toes curled at the sensation.
My body called to me to let go but my mind was still holding onto reason.
I couldn’t let him do this to me again. He was leaning down to kiss me and I knew that once he did, it would be over.
I pushed my hands against his chest, trying to keep some distance between us.
“Alfie—” I meant to sound strong, but my voice came out as a pathetic mewl.
“Tell me to stop one more time, and I’ll stop,” his tone was goading me, daring me to turn him down.
“Well? What do you want me to do, baby?” He shifted so his weight rested on one forearm, his body flush with mine.
I could barely breathe as his free hand roamed over me.
He pressed his forehead to mine. He was giving me no space, no air.
“I…” My words cut away as his hand dipped between my legs.
“What?” His fingers found my clitoris and rubbed oh so lightly. I let out a small, pathetic whimper. He was breaking me down, manipulating my psyche with my own body and, once again, I felt helpless to stop it. Yet I could. He’d already told me, all I had to do was say ‘Stop .’ But I couldn’t.
“Oh baby, does that feel good?”
I nodded and he chuckled softly as his finger continued its gentle strokes.
My heart thrummed in my chest and I felt dizzy, lost in a whirlwind of his creation.
I began to panic, overwhelmed by the feeling of being absolutely powerless.
I felt like I could cry. It was too much.
Everything about him was always too much.
I wanted him, but not like this, not when he was trying to get something out of me.
A small sob escaped my throat. I pressed my hands to my eyes to stop any tears escaping. I felt like I’d been flung up into the sky, without gravity, without anything tying me to the earth.
To my surprise, he took his hand away, the pleasure stopped, and I found myself able to breathe again.
“Baby, open your eyes.”
I shook my head and he peeled my hands away from my face. I found his eyes and just like that, I felt tethered to the earth again.
“It’s too much, Alfie,” I breathed, finally finding my voice. “I’m losing my mind. I don’t know what I’m doing any more.”
“Welcome to the club, O’Connell.” He shifted, his erection pressed against me once more, and my breath hitched. Before I could panic again, he cut me off, seeming to read my mind as he so often did.
“I’m not playing with you, Lola. I’m not going to fuck anything out of you. That changed the minute you slammed a door in my face. I just need to be inside you.”
I understood. Being separated, even just by a door, had sparked an anxiety in both of us that needed to be eased. I wrapped my legs around him, inviting him in. He reached between us, undoing his trousers, neither of us interested in taking the time to undress.
“I’ll still be mad at you when this is over.”
“I’m still mad at you now.” He freed himself and sank inside me in one fluid motion.
My hips lifted to meet his and that exquisite pleasure that only he could give to me.
Just like that, we were level again. He held my gaze as he took me, moving in long, languid strokes.
Taking his time, as if reacquainting himself with my body, as if he hadn’t spent most of this morning and last night fucking me.
Time seemed to disappear, the world, my worries, our fight, all of it fell away as I looked up at him.
He didn’t kiss me, didn’t pull down my dress to bare my breasts, didn’t say a word.
He just fell into my eyes and worked my aching folds in the simplest way.
Tears did escape me in the end. I couldn’t help it.
I didn’t know I could orgasm and cry at the same time, but Alfie Tell, my Alfie Tell, could make me do anything.