The Ivy Lessons (23 page)

Marc pulls me away from the railing. He throws the cashmere coat over my head and hauls me towards the elevator.

Chapter
50

‘
Pap
arazzi,’ he says, bundling me through the gold doors. ‘Don’t worry. They were on the ground. Which means they didn’t get anything. But it also means there’re outside.’

He jabs the lift button and the doors slide closed. As the elevator descends, he paces back and forth. ‘Christ, those parasites. Always at the worst moments.’

The lift opens on the floor below, and I see soft red carpet and a hallway of closed doors.

‘In here,’ he barks, opening one of the doors. There’s a giant four poster bed inside, made of dark wood. The bed is so high that there are wooden steps leading up to it.

‘The windows in this room are one way,’ Marc explains. ‘No one can see in.’ He runs a hand through his hair. ‘I can’t stay with you in here. Not after the limo. I won’t be able to stop myself, Sophia, and I made you a promise.’

‘Maybe it’s you who needs a lesson in self control,’ I say, with a smile.

‘There’s no maybe about that with you around,’ says Marc, lifting me onto the bed. He runs a hand languidly down my body, then snatches it away. ‘Tell me you don’t want me to do anything. Tell me to leave. Tell me to stop.’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t want you to stop.’

‘In the limo you said you didn’t want anything to happen tonight.’

‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind.’

He shakes his head. ‘That’s no
t
acceptable. Wait there.’

I pull myself further up the bed, and rest myself on the over-sized cream pillows.

‘Is this your bedroom?’ I ask.

‘Sometimes,’ he says, going to a huge wooden wardrobe that stretches from floor to ceiling. He opens the door and reaches up to a high shelf inside.

‘Do you take girls up here often?’ I ask, forcing a smile onto my face.

He pauses, mid-stretch. ‘Yes,’ he says, and I feel deflated.

‘How many times?’ I ask.

‘A few times,’ he answers, taking
down
a pair of leather slippers.

‘What are they?’ I ask.

‘Turn over.
You’ve shown me that you lack self discipline, by changing your mind just like that. And I’m going to slipper you.’

I stare at him in disbelief. First the cane, now the slipper. ‘You’re really taking this teacher thing seriously,
aren’t you?
’ I say.

‘Don’t talk back,’ says Marc, climbing the steps onto the bed and flipping me over. He undoes my jeans and pulls them down.

Once again,
I feel fresh air on my buttocks
and his hand caressing them. I hear him take off his shirt and undo his trousers.

He pulls me over his knee and smacks me hard with the soul of the slipper. It feels good in a pain is pleasure sort of way, and when he hits me a second time I cry out.

‘I won’t fuck you,’ Marc whispers. ‘I made a promise.’ He pushes himself into my buttocks and I feel his hardness. ‘You’ve been a bad girl haven’t you? Say yes.’

‘Yes,’ I stammer.

‘Say yes sir,’ he barks.

‘Yes sir.’

‘And bad girls need to be punished, don’t they?’

‘Yes sir.
’ I moan again as he smacks me with the slipper.

‘Turn around,’ he orders. I do, and find myself face to face with Marc’s bare chest. There are scars on it – little ones, like the ones on his knuckles.

‘Give me your hand,’ he says. ‘Now undo my trousers.’

I unbutton and unzip him.

‘Put me in your mouth.’

‘I’m not sure how -’

‘Do as you’re told.’ He pushes my head down. ‘That’s right. Up down, up down. Softly at first. Good girl. Use your hand too. That’s right.’

I keep going, up, down, up
,
down, and I can feel the tension building in him. He begins to moan, and I move faster, tightening my hand.

He grips my wrist. ‘Stop,’ he pants. ‘Too close.’ He lifts my chin away from him, and sits back on the bed, getting his breath back.

‘What was too close?’ I ask.

‘Me. To you. A few more seconds and I would have come.’

‘What’s so bad about that?’ I ask. ‘I want you to. I want to share with you -’

Marc shakes his head. ‘What you want from me, I can never give you.’

‘What are you saying? That you’ll never come with me?’ I ask. ‘I don’t understand. Why not?’

Marc pushes himself back in his trousers. ‘I don’t want to lose control in that way. Not ever.’

‘But you were saying acting is all about being vulnerable. And you’re the most amazing actor.’

‘Acting is
all
about being in control,’ says Marc, climbing down from the bed. ‘Every performance, I show my soul, but I’m i
n perfect control.
You – stay in here tonight. There’s an ensuite, towels, whatever you need. I’ll make sure there’s a safe way you can leave tomorrow. I’ll be leaving first thing. Have Rodney bring you whatever you need – I’ll
tell him to be
here first thing tomorrow.’

‘Aren’t you staying in here with me?’

Marc shakes his head. ‘It’ll be safer if I stay in the next room.’

He leaves the room and closes the door.

I lie on the huge Alice in Wonderland bed, feather duvet folding me in softness, and think about what just happened.

Part of me feels good that I can have that effect on Marc. Part of me feels sad that I can never be close to him in that way. To make him feel as good as he makes me feel.

I watch the silver moon outside the tinted window. It must be gone midnight. Thoughts turn around my mind, some good, some bad.

I get up, drink water from the bathroom tap and splash some on my face. The ensuite is just as grand as the bedro
om, with a huge, round swimming-
tub bath and two different sinks to choose from.

I think about the fact Marc is in the next room. It’s a little chilly in my u
nderwear, so I put on my jumper
and creep to the bedroom door. It opens with a loud creaking sound, and I stop dead, listening. Then I poke my head out into the hallway.

The room next to my bedroom has its door slightly ajar, and I guess this must be where Marc is sleeping.

I creep out of my room, and go to the other bedroom door, pushing it open little by little. Inside I see another giant bed. It’s not as tall as the one I’m sleeping in and it’s not four poster, but it’s still pretty big.

There’s a sleeping figure on top of the duvet. I see Marc’s beautiful profile. He’s fully clothed, and lying on his back, his chest barely moving.

I creep closer, my heart pounding at the sight of him.

Marc’s chest moves more quickly as I approach and I can smell his cologne and see the pores on his skin. It’s amazing to be this close to him. To be allowed to look at the details of his handsome face in the flesh, see light brown stubble growing through his skin.

He’s all straight lines, I realise. Straight nose, straight jaw, straight teeth. The only curves are the quirks of his lips and eye lids, the curved lines either side of his mouth, and the round hollows of his cheeks.

I crawl onto the bed, listening to his breathing.
I’m tempted just to rest
beside him and put one of his arms around me, but that would be too easy.

Instead, I gently climb over his body and sit with my legs either side of him.
We’re both still clothed, but
I begin to move back and forth.

I feel him hardening beneath me, and my heart beats faster. Should I be doing this? I know the answer. I have a reality check, all of a sudden, and realise I have crept into Marc Blackwell’s bedroom and am now sitting on top of him. But his growing hardness keeps me moving.

Marc begins to moan, and I feel myself smile.

What if he says someone else’s name
? I think suddenly. But it feels so good moving on top of him like this, and watching his eyelids flicker with pleasure.

I move faster and faster, and Marc moans louder.

I see his eyelids flutter and suddenly I’m staring into his blue eyes, still moving back and forth.

‘Oh G
od,’ he shouts, ‘Oh Sophia. Oh G
od. Don’t.’

‘I don’t want to stop,’
I say. ‘All I want is to make you
feel the way you make me feel.’

‘No.
’ Marc shakes his head and grits his teeth. He throws me onto the bed, and for a moment I think that’s the end of it. But suddenly he’s reaching into my panties and thrusting his fingers back and forth inside me.

I smile at him.

‘You started this,’ he says. ‘Now I’ll finish it.’ He pulls a condom from the bedside draw and struggles out of his trousers. Then he puts the con
dom on, and pulls off my underwear
.

He gets
on his knees between my legs and
slides himself inside me. It’s a tight fit, and he only gets around halfway in. I feel the fullness, and as he moves back and forth he touches all the right places.

‘Oh, Marc,’ I moan.

‘Have I been a good teacher?’ Marc whispers.

‘Yes sir,’ I say.

He pounds against me, getting further and further inside, and I stuff a knuckle into my mouth to stop myself crying out.

‘You want it
harder?’

‘Yes sir.’ I watch him. ‘You won’t pull out?’

He shakes his head. ‘Right now, I couldn’t if I wanted to.’

He keeps going and going until I can’t take anymore. My world explodes into stars, and I feel like I’ve been dipped into a warm bath.

Marc moans and keeps moving. It feels too much, but then the pleasure begins to build again and I hear myself crying out.

I see sweat on Marc’s forehead, and feel his hand gripping and squeezing my buttocks. I come again, and as I do I feel Marc push right into me, going deeper than I ever thought possible.

‘Oh G
od, Sophia,’ he shouts. I feel the base of his cock beating against me, and then he wraps his body around mine, strong limbs holding me tightly.

Did he just come? No. I can feel he’s still hard.

I lie under him, feeling safe and warm and protected, and wonder what just happened. Because something has changed in him – I feel it.

Marc rolls me against him so we’re both l
a
ying side to side, him still inside me, hard and throbbing. He’s breathing heavily as he slides himself out of me. Then he pulls the cover over us, wraps his arms around me, and I fall into a deep sleep.

Chapter
51

When I wake up the next morning, Marc is watching me, elbow propped up on a pillow.

‘Morning,’ I mutter sleepily, feeling shy. He doesn’t look angry. I wonder how well he remembers last night.

‘Morning,’ he says quietly, still watching me.

‘I thought you had to leave early,’ I say.

‘I do,’ he says. He watches me for a while longer,
then,
without saying a word,
he
climbs out of the bed. He leaves the room and comes back fully dressed, a suit jacket over his arm.

‘Rodney will bring you
breakfast.’ He stares at me a
moment, and I think he’s about to say something, but instead he throws on his suit jacket and heads for the door.

‘Marc, about last night -’

‘Things got out of hand,’ says Marc, his hand on the door. With that, he leaves the room.

I pull the thick, feathery duvet over myself, feeling tired and hurt, and longing for him to come back. He’s right, he can’t offer me what I want, which means I’m always going to end up wanting.

When I hear the front door click and his car drive away, I dress and head to the kitchen. I smell coffee and fresh pastries.

Rodney is in the kitchen, wiping the marble surfaces with a look of deadly determination on his face. He looks up when I come in.

‘Oh! Sophia.’ He throws the
cloth in the sink and washes his
hands. ‘Let me fix you breakfast.’

‘You don’t have to,’ I say. ‘Honestly.’

‘No, Marc gave me strict orders.’ H
e brings a bowl of B
ircher porridge, topped with fresh pomegranate seeds and toasted granola. ‘There are pastries too,’ he says, opening the oven and bringing out a tray of maple pin wheels. ‘And coffee.’

He pours me a cup. I’d prefer hot chocolate, but this coffee smells delicious.

‘Thank you,’ I say, taking a seat at the brea
kfast bar. ‘This looks great
.’

Rodney beams at me. ‘It’s nice having guests. Marc is so rarely here -’ H
e stops him
self. Does that mean he’s out with other women? I don’t like that thought at all.