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Authors: N.M. Catalano

Black Ink (6 page)

BOOK: Black Ink
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The driver is a Spanish man, probably around thirty.  Regardless of his expensive clothes, he is total street.  I can feel it in him, thrumming through his veins and the way his eyes see everything without looking.  He has ‘thug’ written all over him. 

“Jesús, Cipriani’s,” Black barks out.

“You got it,” he replies with relaxed familiarity. 

My mouth falls open at the level of comfort and casualness they apparently share.  These two are more than driver and employer.

Who are you
Alexander Black?


Harry Cipriani’s restaurant on the street level of the Sherry-Netherland Hotel is in a class by itself.  Elegance blends seamlessly with Old World ambiance.  It’s evident Alexander Black is a regular when we’re escorted immediately to “his” table.  I’ve never eaten here and my first impression is this is the private hide-away for the elite echelon of New York.  Fashion designers, dignitaries, celebrities are all casually enjoying themselves without the risk of paparazzi or intrusion.  Cipriani’s is the patriarch of restaurants, and this is a sacred domain.

Alexander Black not only is a part of this world, he has a front row and center seat.

As we pass by tables, some faces I immediately recognize, others I don’t know the names but had seen on the news or in Forbes, we come to a table of Oriental men as we walk, all distinguished.  Each man bows their head in the traditional Chinese salutation at the imposing man at my side.

“Mr. Black what a pleasure it is to see you.  Thank you for coordinating the transactions we discussed, everything went exceptionally well.”

Black bows in return.  “It was my pleasure Mr. Jieyi.  We shall meet in a few weeks to examine further developments.  Enjoy your meal.”

As we continue to our table I give Black an inquisitive sideways glance.

“UN Chinese Ambassador LIU Jieyi.”

He works with UN ambassadors?!

He is a lot more powerful and complicated than I’d ever imagined.   

Black dominated the evening, ordering for both us without glancing at a menu.  Artichoke appetizers, Tortellini and Prosciutto for us to share, Veal Piccata al limone for me, Filet Mignon with green peppercorn sauce for him.  Two Bellini’s were placed in front of us as soon as we were seated.

The entire meal he dominated
with his massive presence.

I was a throbbing mess of hot need when I got home. 















I took the van to Jersey City.  I’d already changed into black sweats and a black zippered hooded sweatshirt and sneakers in the parking garage where I’d picked up the van.  Jesús was on his way back from taking Gemma home after dinner and he’d confirmed that the same cars were on her street that were always there and it appeared her house was empty.  After making my appearance to everyone in my house, I had a shower and replied to all important messages.  Everything pending had been addressed and, if I should need one, my alibi had been established. 

I had a feeling I wasn’t going to need one.

I parked in a spot a few spaces down from Gemma’s house, a place I could watch the monitors without being disturbed.  I noticed the cars in front of the houses, a gold minivan, a white Volkswagen Rabbit, a black four door Chrysler sedan, all belonging to the Gen X group, a house in the suburbs and two point five kids.

I didn’t notice anyone in any of them.

She was so pissed at me at dinner.

She had a right to be.  I had acted like a barbaric controlling lunatic, telling her she was going to dinner with me.  Then I enveloped her with my overbearing presence, a part of my body constantly touching hers, my thigh pressed to hers, a finger stroking her lip to wipe a dot of cream, my hand touching the exposed flesh of her neck brushing her hair away.  Combined with the consistent sexual overtones of the conversation, everything was designed to seduce her.  I wanted to seduce, make her quiver and wet. I could see by the glaze in her eyes she needed to be fucked right then. 

She wasn’t the only one.

If things had been different, I would have told her to go to the bathroom and remove her panties, then come back and give them to me.  Then I would have stroked her velvety slick slit, fondled her clit, and slipped my finger in her tight, wet heat until she spasmed with her climax right there in the restaurant. Until I got her home and fuck her slow, hard, and thoroughly.

First objective, break her down…

She’s just getting in the shower.

Perfect timing,
I sneer. 

Shutting down the laptop, I look around to make sure no one is around before I get out of the van.  I make my way to the back of her house with the hood pulled low over my face and up the back steps to let myself in the backdoor with her keys.  The cat greets me with a meow and rubs herself against my leg.  I enter the living room and turn off the lamps and the light in the stairwell, leaving only the light on in the kitchen I noticed she had on when I was here the other day.  Then I silently climb the stairs.  Slipping into her bedroom, I extinguish the lights.  I step up to the bed and pull up the sash I’d already wrapped around the bottom rail of the head board, then the others at the foot of the bed.   I can hear she’s mumbling to herself in the shower, probably complaining about me, and it makes me grin.

Good.  It’s time for her to get out.

I slip my hand through the slightly open bathroom door and turn off the light.

“Shit!” She exclaims.

I hear the jerk of the shower curtain then the
thump, thump, thump
of her hand against the wall as she gropes for the towel.

“The power must have gone out,” I hear her mutter from my dark corner by the door in her bedroom.

Her footsteps approach.  My body is charged, I feel the blood thrumming through my veins, I’m mainlining on the thrill of excitement. 

“Ouch!” she says just outside the doorway.  My grin is hidden beneath the cloak of my hood.

Then she’s there, two steps inside the bedroom, the towel held tightly with one hand in front of her, clutched to her chest. 

I step quietly behind her and clamp one hand on her mouth, then wrap my arm around her waist, pinning her arms down in an iron clad hold.

“Gemma,” I whisper against her ear, her skin moist and her hair dripping.

She screams against my hand as her body goes rigid.

“Sssshhhhh, I’m not going to hurt you,” I whisper gently.

Her chest is heaving, I can see her eyes are wide in terror, and her body begins to shake. 

I press my front firmly to her back, knowing she can feel my erection pressed against her round cheeks.  She jumps in my grip but I hold her tight.

I press my cheek against hers and tell her again quietly, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I hold her tightly, both of us very still, giving her a minute to settle down, neither of us moving or saying a word.

“You know me...”  She thrashes in my tight grip.   “I’ve seen you watching me, Gemma.  I’ve seen the hunger in your eyes, your need.”  She freezes.  “I want to take my hand from your mouth…if you promise not to scream.”  She feverishly nods her head.  “Good girl.”  My hand loosens on her mouth but doesn’t leave it.  She makes no sound, my hold turns to a capture of her jaw.  I feel her hard intake of breath.  I shift my face slightly and slide my tongue slowly up her cheek.

“Who are you?” she pants out, her heart pounding against my arm.

“Who do you think I am?” I whisper against her ear.

She doesn’t answer. 

“I’ve come to give you want you need.”



My first screeching thought was someone Malcolm had robbed was coming to kill me. 

The next mind-numbing thought was it’s some maniac coming to rape me. 

My wish is that it’s Alexander Black.

He said I knew him, said I wanted him.

“Let me see you,” the words come out choked.

“No,” he whispers firmly. 

His grip loosens around me to free his hand to rest on my stomach, fingers splayed out.  The intimate touch sends a ripple through every part of me.

“Are you going to kill me?” I rasp out, barely hearing the words over the pounding of my heart.

“I told you I’m not going to hurt you,” his hushed words lick across my neck.

I can’t think, my thoughts are swirling around my mind in a chaotic mess. 

“Ssshhh, Gemma, just relax…and let go,” he whispers again roughly, his breath brushing the flushed, damp skin where his tongue stroked me.  Another heated tremor. 

His fingers begin to float against the flesh of my rigid body causing goosebumps to erupt over my nakedness and my nipples to harden.  I can’t stop my body’s reaction to his touch.

“You have such beautiful tits, Gemma, absolutely perfect,” his whisper is rougher as he begins to draw slow circles over my breasts with his fingertip.  Jolts of electricity surge from the point of his touch straight to my loins.  His mouth and tongue move over my skin slowly and hypnotically, licking, nipping, sucking, overloading me with sensation.

The tidal wave of emotions pounding down on me makes my knees buckle:  lust, fear, need, confusion.

“Stop,” the word comes out in a gasp.

I know I must fight him but I can’t.  The sweetest drug of desire is melting me, caress by torturously delicious caress.

“No.”  He flicks my nipple gently with the tip of his finger as his teeth softly capture my jaw.  His tongue glides a long lick up my shoulder and neck to move over my ear and I swallow the moan that almost escapes me.  Molten heat morphs with the fear coursing through me and ignites the nerve endings in my skin where he touches it.  His fingertips capture the point and he begins to tug and twist it, pinch and flick it, sending a rush of pulsing shockwaves straight to my core.

The desire from Black that had begun on Monday, the one that had never quite seemed to dissipate, the fiery liquid that had burned hot all through dinner, was now escalating into the beginnings of a raging inferno.  He is seducing me, breaking me down, consuming me in the darkness.

This man I can’t see licks then nibbles, sucks then bites, blazing a trail down my neck with his mouth, (my neck instinctively bends freely under his assault), then down the front of my throat to dip in the hollow beneath it.  I could sense he is tall, tall enough to curve over my body, and hard, his body pressing against my back.  And very aroused.  I know this because my body wants to grind onto his erection pressed against my ass.  I hadn’t comprehended he’d tugged the towel gently from my grip, but it’s gone because my hands are empty, clenching at my sides.  As his mouth explores me and one hand teases and tantalizes my breasts, his other begins to mimic the circular strokes down the flesh on my front, going round my belly button, over my hip bones, then to outline my highly sensitive mound.  I must have parted my legs because they’re open, allowing his fingers to brush along the creases on each side of my sex.  A soft hungry moan slips past my lips.

He’s expertly stripping me of my defenses bit by bit, with each touch of his finger and every stroke of his tongue.  I have no control.  His take-over of my body is happening so fast I have no time to think, only feel and surrender.  My mind is frenzied, crashing in a sea of erotic oblivion as the darkness envelopes us in a thick cocoon of danger and passion.  The only thing I’m aware of is his touch, his breath, his mouth, and the places he touches me with them. 

“So wet…,” he whispers huskily.

I knew I was wet, very wet, I’d already been aroused when I’d gotten home.  This ravagement had grabbed that lingering need and was running with it.  

A single finger traces my folds, circles my entrance then dips inside me. 

Oh God…

“No…,” I moan.

“Yes…”  His lips flutter against my ear, the soft moist tip of his tongue outlines the shell.

My walls instinctively grip it, needing more, wanting him to fill me.  My traitorous body yields to him as my head falls back against his chest.  I hated that I loved how he smelled like a man, a hint of sweat, male muskiness, and soap.  It made my mouth water wanting to taste him.  His teeth bite down on my collar bone, just shy of too painful, but just enough.  My back arches pressing my ass into him and my breast into his hand.

“I’m going to touch your clit, Gemma, and you’re going to come.” 

I can’t fight his domination of my body, I have no control.

Predator, domination, captive…
Black’s words echo somewhere in my mind.

A moan comes from a deep carnal place inside me, the place I’d always kept hidden.  This man had found that door and thrown it open, letting everything out.

With his mouth on my shoulder, a nipple between two fingers, his finger flicks my clit, and my body shakes.  The climax starts from low in my belly and seeps downward causing a ripple of pulsing and throbbing as my breasts hang heavy and hungry.

BOOK: Black Ink
7.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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