Authors: K. A. Laity
Tags: #romantic suspense, #erotica, #thriller, #suspense, #erotic romance, #erotic thriller
Chastity lifted herself, enjoying
being able to control the moment, squeezing herself tight around
him as she rode up and down. She leaned back and Damien grabbed her
arms to guide her movements, but she let go of his right hand in
order to let her own hand fall to massaging her clit as she worked
away on him. Eyes closed, she felt the shuddering waves of the
orgasm begin and hastened her movements.
Damien began to call out even as
Chastity was overwhelmed by the shaking tremors of her pleasure.
Damien grabbed her ass cheeks to help slam her against him as he
began to come in stiffening thrusts that lifted them both off the
chair, until at last he collapsed panting from the effort. Chastity
put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him softly on his closed
eyelids before seeking his mouth again. The smell of his sweat
filled her nose and the warm softness of his lips intoxicated her.
She hadn't realised just how hungry she had been to taste him
again.
Damien's hands sought out her breasts
again, squeezing them together gently, flicking the tips of her
still-hard nipples with his thumbs, which made her wiggle in his
lap, pulling their lips apart. He grinned up at her.
"God, I love you, Twelfty," Damien
whispered. Chastity stiffened. It was as of all her limbs were
suddenly frozen. It's not as if she'd never heard the words before,
although admittedly it had been some time since the last. It had
always signaled that it was time to break things off. The words
provoked that urge to give the old heave-ho like bell for a
salivating dog.
Chastity couldn't decide what upset
her more: that Damien had used the words, or that for the first
time in her life, she didn't immediately want to run away. But they
frightened her, that much was certain.
Damien could tell, of course. He was
looking up at her even now. The smile had faded but the happiness
in his face was still evident. "You didn't want to hear that right
now, did you?" He took her silence as assent. "I'm sorry. It just
came out. But it's true. I love your fire and passion, your
intelligence and your fearlessness—well, in most things," he
chuckled, running his hands down her tense back. "I'm not asking
you to respond—"
"I can't," Chastity said
quickly.
Damien nodded, as if he had expected
this. "I love you. What you feel is up to you. That is if you feel
anything at all, apart from evident pleasure," he added, rocking
his hips a little, still inside her.
Chastity grimaced. He was already
getting hard again, she could feel it, but much against her will
the thought of escape filled her head. "I think you need to let me
up," she said at last, irritated at how strangled her voice
sounded. "We have work to do."
Damien helped her off his lap. "Yeah,
we have to pretend to be married."
Chastity pulled her pants back up and
sat down at the table. "We still have to know more about Wesenlund,
too."
She did not look up from the pages in
front of her.
Chapter Thirteen
"I've never been to Helsinki before,"
Damien said cheerfully looking around the square.
"It's a beautiful city," Chastity
agreed, taking in the wild profusion of vendors in the market
selling everything from birch bark shoes to inventive woolens and
tasty reindeer meat jerky. They had decided to cruise through the
stalls on the way to the meeting with Wesenlund's investors in
order to look like proper tourists. Chastity had used the excuse to
buy some linens at Marimekko. Damien had so far focused on food,
sampling a variety of jams and soup.
Chastity was relieved he had not
brought up their encounter in the conference room the day before.
They had arrived late enough last night that she could simply claim
the need to go directly to sleep without much fuss, but it had felt
very odd lying beside him and trying not to think about how much
she wanted to touch his skin. She was tortured by the thought, her
clit hard and her lips wet with desire.
It was somewhat disappointing that
Damien fell asleep quickly while she lay wide awake for a couple of
hours. In the morning she had awakened first to find his arm flung
over her, his erection lying between the cleft of her cheeks. He
made her hunger for him, so much so that she considered shifting
just enough to get his cock to slide between her thighs and
straight to her trembling cunt. Instead she rolled out of bed and
took a shower, playing with her clit until she came, feeling
disappointed nonetheless.
They had played the perfect married
couple since they left their hotel room, cooing at various
landmarks and taking photos as they made their way toward the
conference hotel. Chastity was distracted by how relaxed Damien
seemed, as if his revelation had given him some kind of comfort. Of
course, it had given her exactly the opposite feeling. A hundred
times since then she had heard his words echo in her ear, like a
funeral knell for someone once close. Chastity felt irritable and
anxious, as if she had somehow forgotten something important that
was just on the tip of her tongue. It was very distracting and she
was deeply annoyed with having to keep track of her wandering
thoughts.
"This is it," Damien said as they
found themselves in front of the sleek modern building. Its steel
exterior managed to look both elegant and somehow efficient.
Inside, they did their best to blend in with the gathering crowds
sipping strong Finnish coffee outside the ballroom. They had
decided that Damien would be the outgoing partner and Chastity the
observer, so the two of them played the part of the superficial
techies looking for possible investments. They chattered away for
some minutes until joining the gradual influx into the
hall.
It was an odd mix of people. They had
chatted with people from across Europe as well as a North and South
America. Some of them had mentioned fellow attendees from across
Asia as well. A broad variety of folks were in attendance. It would
be interesting to see what it was that Wesenlund intended to
interest this disparate group into achieving.
The first person on stage looked to be
the ideal corporate clone, from her tailored pinstriped grey suit
and sleek blonde bun to her thick-rimmed glasses and dutiful smile.
She welcomed the attendees in a variety of languages, acknowledging
the wide swath of cultures represented. With admirable efficiency,
the woman laid out the plan for the day, which included various
workshops and networking events. Of course, what everyone was
waiting for would be next: Wesenlund's speech.
"I wonder how much he will disclose,"
Damien whispered to Chastity as the speaker digressed into a
jargon-heavy encomium for the keynote speaker. Chastity had to
admit she was very curious, too. Her single meeting with him
suggested an unusual level of arrogance even for a corporate type
of that vintage. It could work to their advantage if he were to be
indiscreet, but somehow she feared that he would be prepared for
that as well. He knew too bloody much, in short—about them, about
the ways they worked, and about the ways they would be fighting
him.
It was disconcerting.
A crescendo of applause greeted the
final introduction of Wesenlund and he emerged from behind the
curtains with a warm smile and a hearty wave to the assembled.
Chastity observed that everything about him spoke of unhurried
grace, as if long practiced and so forgotten lessons had been
instilled since his youth. "He walks like a man of privilege,"
Damien said just low enough to be heard by her alone and she had to
agree. He had come from money, of course—they knew that much from
the folder, but everything about him oozed that unconscious
possession of wealth and influence.
"Good evening," Wesenlund said, then
grinned. "Sorry, afternoon, isn't it? It must be the terrible jet
lag from Oslo that has confused me." The crowd tittered
appreciatively. "I am gratified to see so many people accept my
invitation to be here today. You are all exceptional
people.
"And I have no interest in any other
kind of people," he added. "Opportunities await those of us willing
to seize them. Yield nothing to chance. If there's one thing I
cannot bear, it is leaving anything to chance. I don't have a
manifesto, I don't have a slogan or a logo." Wesenlund looked out
over the audience with a small smile on his lips. "I don't intend
to win over the public. In fact, I would just as soon keep them out
of the situation. When you plan to dominate the world, I always
think it best not to warn them in advance," he said, chuckling. The
crowd joined him, the chuckle slowly growing across the chairs
until it became a round of applause.
Damien and Chastity exchanged
surreptitious glances while they applauded along with the rest.
Undoubtedly, Wesenlund would be using the gathered acolytes to
further his plans, but how?
"It is my considered opinion,"
Wesenlund continued as a large screen lowered from the top of the
stage, "that a good economic wind sails all boats, as they say.
However, I would also say that a good set of sails will carry you
further in any wind—and if you need more material, sometime you
must take it from someone else." The laughs were there, but there
was a little discomfort as well. Wesenlund, however, only smiled
and turned to regard the PowerPoint presentation opening behind
him. Chastity suspected he would now backtrack and reassure, before
bringing them back to these rougher waters.
Indeed, he ran through a number of
charts and graphs that examined economic changes over the last ten
years, showing trends that gravitated up and down. "We are all
aware of the general unsteadiness of the market. Perhaps we accept
it as a natural part of life." Wesenlund shrugged. "However, it
need not be that way. We have the power. Together we are heavy, we
are heavy enough to shift the market as we desire."
There were murmurs of assent through
the seated acolytes. Chastity guessed that getting these business
investors to work together was essential to Wesenlund's success,
but how it would help was unclear to her. She never had
comprehended business. It all seemed to be lies and subterfuge.
Those she did understand. Chastity tried to concentrate harder.
Maybe it would all make sense.
"Do you follow this?" Damien asked.
"It sounds as if he wants to link together all their businesses
somehow."
Chastity nodded. "That's all I've been
able to figure out so far. Why? It doesn't seem all the remarkable.
Maybe I'm missing something."
A few more slides passed and then
there came a flashy logo that looked like a tap with animated water
running from it. It bore the title, "SPIGOT" and Wesenlund smiled
appreciatively at it. "Here's the secret that will make us all
rich." Chastity could feel the audience lean forward in
anticipation. She admired Wesenlund's careful orchestration of
their greed up to this point. They were eager to take part in his
scheme, certain that it would help make them even more
rich.
"It's a simple computer system that
links together our revenue streams in an apparent consolidated
yield; however, you will retain absolute control over all your
assets. Your money is your money—but our money," Wesenlund
emphasized the latter words, "our money will give us all greater
power. We have the influence of a corporation while retaining our
individuality. In other words, all the power, but none of the
risk."
The hubbub that broke out after this
announcement rumbled through the ballroom. It seemed to be equal
parts surprise, glee, disbelief and anxiety. Wesenlund let the
chatter drone on for some time before speaking once more. "It's an
exciting prospect, ja? But I know what you really want to hear, I
do. 'What will it cost me, Sven?'" He nodded as if in agreement
with everyone in the hall. Then his smile got broader.
"Nothing." He held his hands out,
empty. "Nothing at all."
Pandemonium reigned. Wesenlund waited
patiently for it to subside. After some moments, it finally did,
though judging by the people surrounding them, there was a lot of
skepticism to overcome. Chastity suspected that Wesenlund gloried
in the effort it would require. He enjoyed the feeling of
conquering their dissent, bringing them into line with his desires
and making them dance to his tune.
"You don't believe me?" he continued,
as if ever so mildly disappointed in their lack of faith. "Well, I
cannot blame you, now can I? I offer you the world on a silver
platter and you assume, ah ha! Sven has tied some string to the
prize. But you couldn't be more wrong." He walked up to the edge of
the stage, the better to heighten the drama, to play up a sense of
intimacy across the gigantic room. Chastity appreciated the
marvelous commend of the dramatic even as she felt her dislike of
the man grow stronger. "I need you. I need you all."
"Oh, he's good," Damien whispered
beside her.
Wesenlund let the words sink in and
the room gradually grew quieter. "You see, this is what they call a
beta system," he waved his hand as if they all knew this was silly
jargon. "I don't know exactly what that means, other than we
haven't had a chance to try it out on a big scale. So I need your
help to test it and in order to make it attractive to do so, I will
share the benefits with you all. No cost to you, great benefit to
us all. So tell me: would you like to be richer?" The question was
greeted with laughter and quickly joined by the growing sound of
applause.