Dave reclined in his chair for the 1000 time in the day. He sat in his tastefully decorated office and enjoyed the sweet serene sound of his jazz music playing from his deck in the corner. He had always considered himself a man of class and his taste in music reflected this truth.
Heels and kills (VI)
This is a exclusive Pulse blog by writer, Ife Doe. "...he had seen her and something told him that it was the most vulnerability he would ever see. Her eyes carried his… almost begging. What was she begging for? What could she ever need?..."
Crumpled sheets
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![Oluwatoyin Salau was 19 years old when she was raped and murdered [Hali Tauxe/Tallahassee]](data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf8,%3Csvg%20xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg'%20width%3D'100'%20height%3D'100'%20data-ring-placeholder%3D'1'%3E%3C%2Fsvg%3E "Oluwatoyin Salau was 19 years old when she was raped and murdered [Hali Tauxe/Tallahassee]")
His phone vibrated a few times but he just looked straight ahead, very deliberately ignoring it and focusing on his thoughts. It had been a tough day. Making endless calls… calling brutal shots… fighting incessant thoughts of “her”… Making orders for a thousand yards of a material he hated…. standing in the endless shadows of the boss… everything was crazy. The perks of being Adora’s right hand man. He scoffed at the last thought.
He had run himself down, he had worked so damn hard over the last weeks. Everyone called him the man of the hour. His devotion and consistency, was the talk of the fashion industry. Last week, the creative director of MAV had complemented him in front of his boss. She had said Adora was the luckiest woman to have Dave working at ADOR. If only she knew.
Passion had absolutely nothing to do with it. How hard he worked had nothing to do with perseverance and skill. If only they knew… If only they knew he would move heaven and earth for “her”. All he did was for “her”… and that night.
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“Sir, Madame we have just one suite left. May I proceed?”
He had stared at the hotel receptionist with raw fear. The same room? With who?! He had very quickly began to tell the receptionist how that was “unacceptable” when she turned to silence him with quiet soft eyes. She turned back to the receptionist, smiled and said they would take the room.
The same room with her! His heart had almost beat out of his chest as the bell boy walked them to their suite. He had immediately perched in one corner and opened his laptop to cause some type of distraction and to pretend like this was not the scariest night of his existence. His eyes stared at his screen yet every fiber of his male being could feel every move she made as she unpacked her expensive looking suitcase.
It was only for a night. They would go to the show tonight, come back exhausted, sleep and check out tomorrow. Simple.
But then she was suddenly standing before him. He had looked up at her slowly and had known he was doomed even before his eyes met hers. They had stared at each other for a few moments. He had felt like that was the most vulnerable he had seen her and something told him that it was the most vulnerability he would ever see. Her eyes carried his… almost begging. What was she begging for? What could she ever need?
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Then she had slowly removed the laptop from his hands and the realization of what was about to happen began to sink in. She bent and kissed him ever so slowly. Her hands had snaked around his neck and her fingers softly caressed his nape. He had lost all control then, grabbing her ass as he rose to the invitation. They had stumbled around the room in a kissing frenzy. He remembered every part of his body being on fire. Everywhere she touched burned! He wanted her! Who the fuck was he to want her?!
Clothes fell to the floor and there the queen stood before him naked. Adora stood in all her glory, the soft light of the bedside table illuminating all the right places. He could not remember all the different things that crossed his mind as he stared at her. How? How was this happening?!
The way she kept staring at him was his undoing. All he wanted to do was ease the pain in her eyes. She looked like she was begging him to make her forget everything…. He had decided that was exactly what he would do. He had backed her to the edge of the bed before he had pushed her softly to sit at the edge of the bed. She had scouted up to the middle of the bed, allowing him room to kneel in front of her. Eyes still holding hers, he had spread her knees with powerful but gentle hands. When his tongue touched her, she shivered. He had felt her squirm under his touch. She had held his head, looking forlorn as he had intensified the pressure on her spot.
Then she had begged him. Vocally this time and that was it. In the next few seconds he was hot and inside her, thrusting in and out like his heart depended on it. She had squeezed his upper arm, face contorted in pure beauty as she matched his thrusts. This was not love making… this was fucking in all its glory!
When he was at the peak of his pleasure he had automatically began to pull out when her grip on him tightened and she shook her head so lightly, he almost missed it. Groans uttered, he came…. and then everything went still.
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They had missed the show that night and had fucked again in the shower the next morning. Then they had checked out, caught their flight back and never spoke of it again.
She had owned him from then on. More than a year later and she still held his reins.
His phone vibrated again, snapping him out of his trip down memory lane. It was Adora.
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