Possessed by a Stranger (17 page)

“All done.” He declared pulling a condom out
of his pocket before dropping his shorts to his ankles. With the
cravings of an addict he had to have his fix, just enough of a
taste to hold off his amassable need. That would come later when
they had the privacy to fulfill all his body’s demands.

Hannah’s dress fell to the floor with the
vision of him in all his naked glory burning through her body. All
the months of waiting washed over her. A tingling building between
her legs spiraled up her spine. She was hot, wet and craving in a
primal way. “I certainly hope not.”

Watching her slip her panties down her smooth
thighs was so damn sexy. Her eyes had started fucking him before
they touched and they were doing a damn good job. She was his for
the taking. As soon as she stepped out of her panties his hands
encased her waist. She laughed as he swung her around and sat her
on the table.

“Ssshhh, we have to be quite. I don’t want to
be interrupted.” The attic had plenty of insulation to muffle any
noise but the possibility of being caught would add to the
stimulation.

Her kiss was as hungry as his. Her hands and
arms greedily touched his body sending a frenzy of need to his
pulsating dick. His swollen shaft felt what she wanted and was damn
determined to give it to her. He leaned her back with his body
pressing her onto the table. He pinned her arms to her side before
her touch coaxed his dick to slam into her. His control would be
better without the added distraction.

His lips and, oh my God, his hot flickering
tongue tasted her lips, face and neck. The soft sensation set her
flesh on fire and traveled through her body on flames of desire.
From her neck to her breast he flooded her senses before going
lower. Her muscles tightened and quivered, sending shivers through
her veins.

He knelt at the end of the table. His tongue
slipped in between her womanly folds and her legs widened to accept
the blissful tremors. He grasped the back of her thighs and pushed
her legs as far as they would bend toward her body. His gaze
watched her as he worked his magic. She clutched the sides of the
table as a rippling wave of ecstasy electrified every nerve in her
body. He purposefully pushed her over the edge into an orgasm. She
moaned as her body quaked with spasms from the release of the
torturous delight.

He stood rolling on the condom. He had missed
tasting the warm nectar her body produced and the arousal it
produced. Her eyes begged for more sending his dick into overdrive.
If it swelled any tighter it would burst wide open. Leaning over
her he recaptured her smiling lips. He brought her with him as he
rose. Her back, sides and hips quivered under his touch as his
hands glided over them.

He held her firm hips with her legs wrapped
around him. The heat emanating from her body beckoned him to
satisfy his need. He slid inside her warm moist tunnel as a shudder
of pure lustful pleasure consumed his muscles. Holding her hips
tightly against him he paused to relish the blissful sensations.
His pulsating manhood fought for control and won, sending his mind
into oblivion.

He thrust into her with her fingers digging
into his back. Her sensual moans drove him harder. She was
unbelievably hot, tight and wet. Every thrust felt better than the
last. She buried her mouth in his chest to silent her ecstatic
scream as she trembled in ecstasy. He exploded blissfully, pressed
deep inside her. His knees shook from the much needed release. He
held her in his arms to remain on his feet. With some of his
tension unknotted from his muscles he reveled the moment. She had
felt, smelled, and tasted deliciously inviting. He had to have
more, much more.

When he was able to regain his senses he
kissed her before releasing her from his arms. He removed the
overfilled condom tying off the end. No wonder his balls had ached.
They had been clogged with months of waiting for her. A piece of a
newspaper used for packing conveniently lay on the floor. He
wrapped the paper around the condom to dispose of later.

Hannah sat on the edge of the table
fascinated by his every move. Garret picked her dress and panties
off the floor. He shook them both before handing them to her. She
hoped it was to shake off the dust and not spiders. She hopped off
the table then stepped into her panties watching him pull on his
shorts. As she slid her dress over her head he helped her pull it
down. Turning her around, he zipped the back of her dress as she
held her hair off her neck.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Garret shook
the dust off his shirt before slipping it over his head.

Hannah dusted the remaining dirt off his
shirt. “I couldn’t sit down and eat with your parents after we just
defiled their home. Oh, there’s also the fact they’re going to see
that portrait. That would make for some interesting dinner
conversation.”

Garret smoothed his hands down her arms. He
definitely wasn’t done with her yet. He rested his hands on her
waist. “I defiled you, not the house. I don’t recall hearing any
complaints. You should stay.”

She leaned her head on his chest touching him
with her hands. “Thank you but there’s no way I’m staying.”

“There’s no reason to thank me. I told you I
would strip and take care of business anytime you wanted. It’s a
curse and we are just going to have to learn to live with it,” He
kissed the top of her head breathing in her scent. His dick
stiffened with the thought of the night he had planned for her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

They walked outside after safely by-passing
his parents. His mother and father hadn’t even seen the portrait
yet and she couldn’t face them. Her extreme modesty was an
endearing quality that thankfully hadn’t branched out to include
when she was with him. He glided his finger over the soft curve of
her cheek down to her chin.

“You should let me drive you home.” Watching
her walk away from him was going to be unbearable. He was obsessed
with her and he needed to discover why, so he could control the
situation. It was just sex. Great sex, but still, just sex. The
mystery of her name and location was solved so what else was there
about her?

“I would really like to walk. You can give
Pops the portrait while I’m not there.” Hannah giggled shaking her
head. “You realize he’s a dirty old man, don’t you? He knew what
that portrait looked like.”

Garret chuckled. “He was a ladies man back in
his prime. He’s probably the only one that will think of your great
grandmother when he sees the picture.”

She stepped into him placing her hands on his
chest. She would never get enough of him. Not wanting to sound
clingy she formed a casual invitation. “Why don’t you stop by later
and see what I’ve done to the cottage?”

“I had already planned on it. I might even
take the time to see your cottage.” His hands cupped her face as he
reclaimed her luscious lips.

The walk home allowed Hannah time to
rearrange all the thoughts swirling around in her mind. Garret
Presley, ruthless business man, confirmed bachelor, and her sexy
mystery man jumped to the front and center. He was a dangerous man
on so many levels. They were polar opposites and she should run as
far away from him as possible. But some magnetic force pulled them
together. One wonderful night was easily remembered without
regrets. With no connections, other than sex, she had walked away
from him and started a new life.

He was now in that new life with two miles of
separation and possibly more wonderful nights. Her rational mind
said run, save your heart. Her starving body said, grab on tight
and ride the wave. Her heart pitter-patted, against all odds,
wanting to be filled whether or not it burst into a million pieces
at the end of the ride.

Inside her cottage she prepared for his
visit. She arranged a silver serving tray, crystal glasses, and an
unopened bottle of scotch on her sideboard. Come on, why had she
attempted to debate a relationship with Garret? She had bought the
scotch specifically with him in mind. Although, even at the time of
the purchase she tried to convince herself the scotch was
memorabilia of a wonderful night. Hurrying upstairs to shower and
change, the battle of what was appropriate to wear raged in her
thoughts.

Freshly showered, clad in her satin robe, she
stared in her closet. She systematically filed through each piece
of clothing hanging on the wooden rod eliminating choices as she
went, too long, too short, too hard to remove, too easy to remove,
doorbell… She froze with her listening ears on high. A loud flat
handed pound on her front door reached her ears. She was half way
down the stairs before she realized she moved.

Hannah carefully opened the door, seeing as
how this time, she didn’t want to knock him off her stoop. The
wolfish gleam in his eyes, the wicked grin on his lips, knocked her
for a loop. She was a goner without a glimmer of doubt. Garret
stood to the side of the doorway holding the painting. Her heart
soared ecstatic with relief.

“You brought the painting. How did you get
Pops to give it up?” Her eyes darted around him checking to see if
any prying eyes saw the painting, even though her nearest neighbors
were the Presley’s.

He entered the cottage pulling the door shut.
“You can thank my mother. She didn’t consider this art.”

His mother had yelled at him for exposing
Hannah to such pornography. She blamed Pops and criticized them
both for embarrassing Hannah so badly she snuck out of the house.
If his mother only knew what had transpired in the attic and the
pornographic things he intended for Hannah now.

Her cheeks warmed knowing his parents had
seen her naked. Not really, but hell, she felt as if they had. “I
take it she noticed the resemblance.”

Her blush was a warning not to tease. “That’s
an understatement. Where do you want it?”

“I have no idea.” Her mind was totally blank.
She loved the painting but no one could see it as long as she
resembled her great grandmother. Maybe, when she was old, fat and
wrinkled, but not now.

He knew the perfect place for the portrait.
She would never allow anyone to see this portrayal into her
intimate life. He couldn’t have asked for a better security guard
to protect his claim.

“It’s going over your bed. It will mark my
territory.” Taking the stairs two at a time he ascended the
stairs.

Quickening her steps she followed him agilely
bounding in front of her. What territory had he meant? She wasn’t
sure but she liked the sound of him marking anything that concerned
her. He opened the door to his right which she had converted into
her office.

“Nice office. You’ve really done wonders with
this cottage.”

She found it amusing he invaded her home with
a confident air. “Thank you. I added a balcony across the back. I
have doors in here and in my bedroom.”

“That means this is your bedroom.” Pointing
across the hall he took several long strides to the other door.
Turning the door knob he opened the door and walked into her
bedroom. “Not bad. I expected lots of pink and ruffles. Maybe,
flowers and stuffed animals.”

The room was furnished with large sturdy
furniture accented with earthy hues in the drapes and bed clothes.
The décor wasn’t girly as he expected, instead it was warmly
neutral and welcoming. Without anything glaringly pointing you
toward the conclusion, the room whispered of being outdoors. He
leaned the painting against the dresser.

“Do I look twelve?” Laughing at his
assumption of pink, ruffles, and stuffed animals, she proudly
watched him admire her work. The portrait blended perfectly with
the room.

“If you did, I wouldn’t be here. How old are
you?” Her talent astounded him in the subtlety of her work. She
gave the rooms a personality that you felt rather than a certain
look to guide you.

He was inspecting the private sanctum of her
bedroom as if he were a prospective buyer, opening the closet door,
peering into the master bath, checking out the view from the
windows.

“Twenty-four…how old are
you?” She already knew his age. He was notable enough to be easily
found when Googled. The thirty-two year-old wealthy, successful
bachelor had a multitude of hits including her search last night.
After discovering his true identity her curiosity had won and she
read everything she could find on Google regarding Garret Presley.
There were a lot of desperate women out there looking for Mr.
Right.
(Lucky for her he walked into a bar
at the right moment.
)

Garret sought her sparkling blue eyes before
he answered. Her age wasn’t an issue for him after confirming she
was a respectable age with an impressive maturity level.

“Thirty-two.” He waited for her reaction to
their age difference. The sensual smile that graced her lips was
the reassurance he wanted.

“Good, I’ve always heard it
takes men longer to mature.” She gravitated toward him being drawn
by seductive eyes.
Garret invitingly held
out his hand. His eyes glossed as he grazed lengthily down her body
leaving tremors on their path. His gaze caressed her as efficiently
as his hands. She accepted his large hand. It was the part of him
that held his strength. His hands made her feel small in comparison
yet protected. She pushed yesterday’s events out of her thoughts.
Her stomach twitched, knotted, feeling his warm strong
grip.

“It was thoughtful of you to dress for easy
accessibility.” His thumb slipped under the half-knot of her satin
robe’s belt, pulling it free.

His insinuation sent a heated flush to her
cheeks. After he swept into her home with the portrait she had
forgotten her attire. She blurted an explanation. “No, I didn’t. I
was about to dress when you arrived.” His devilish grin eased her
embarrassment.