Here are the last two posts - the final chapter and the epilogue. Lots of smut. And it still turned out longer than I had anticipated. So sorry guys! :)
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Where there is desire
There is gonna be a flame
Where there is a flame
Someone's bound to get burned...
-P!nk-
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Chapter 5
Time seemed to slip away, evening drifting slowly into night, as the bar began to fill with the steady flow of regular customers. Although many of them eyed the two women with interest as they sat at their table alone, not a single man was bold enough to approach them or otherwise engage them in conversation. Between the mens' lustful stares and the questionable atmosphere of the establishment, Sophie found the lack of attention to be odd. But she assumed, correctly, that they had been silently discouraged from doing so, all of them very much aware of Gunnar's threatening presence in the corner behind them.
Having steered their conversation to more neutral topics, Sophie found that she was rather enjoying the second woman's company, despite the rather unusual start to the evening. She listened to tales of her companion's exploits and added a few of her own for good measure, pleased to share such experiences with someone who held such similar thoughts and opinions as her own. Despite their different positions in life, she had discovered that the two of them actually had quite a bit in common, and Sophie found herself admiring the other woman's sprint and drive, for although she did not have a place of her own to call home, she had lived a much more exciting and carefree life than most people could only imagine. She almost envied the woman's freedom, although she reminded herself that it was likely not always such a pleasant concept to behold. There were no doubt plenty of hazards to that particular type of lifestyle, although Rox appeared to be well-equipped to handle almost anything that came her way. But beyond that, Sophie could only imagine how lonesome life must have been at times, with no family or friends nearby to offer support when things got tough, being forced to depend on the kindness of strangers for whatever needs had to be met. The fact that Gunnar was apparently one of such people only added another layer of mystery to his already strange disposition, although 'kind' was probably the last thing she envisioned when she thought about his oh-so-charming personality. The disparity only fueled her curiosity that much more, although she reminded herself, like Rox's lifestyle, there were bound to be plenty of unpleasant discoveries to line the way.
Reaching a comfortable lull in their exchange, Rox settled back in her seat, finishing off another cigarette as she eyed up the newest customer who had just strolled through the door. A tall, solid man in jeans and a well-fitting t-shirt, she tracked his movements as he strode across the floor and took a seat at the bar, obviously pleased with what she saw.
"Anyway, I'm glad you showed up when you did." Rox stated, bringing their conversation full circle as her eyes lingered on the handsome stranger. "I think it's probably time for me to move on. And now, I don't have to feel bad for leaving the guy all alone."
Sophie stared at her across the table, wide-eyed. "Surely, you don't expect me to take care of him. In case you haven't noticed, he doesn't seem exactly thrilled that I'm here."
Rox leaned closer, smiling warmly.
"Honey, you've never been more wrong in your entire life."
Sophie's look of disbelief gave way to one of confusion.
"He hasn't taken his eyes off of you since we got here." Rox continued. "Believe me sweetheart. I've been with the man for over a week now, and I haven't seen him look at anybody the way he looks at you. Not even me."
She sat back in her chair, her attention shifting again to the man at the bar. "Go to him." she instructed. "I promise you won't be disappointed."
"You see what kind of shape he's in." Sophie argued, still not convinced. "I'm not prepared to deal with that. I don't know what I'm supposed to say to him."
Rox smiled again as she met Sophie's stare. "Then don't say anything at all. Nobody says you have to talk."
Sophie blushed, the heat warming her cheeks. Rox pressed on, her eyes alight with good-natured mischief.
"Go to him. Ask him to take you for a ride on his bike. Problem solved. No drinking. No fighting. No conversation. And the fresh air will likely do you both some good."
Gulping down the rest of her drink, she slammed the glass on the wooden surface of the table with a heavy thud. "As for me? Well, it's been fun. But, I have other plans for the night."
Rox slid back her chair and gathered up her purse. "Good luck, sweetheart. You're gonna need it." She glanced past Sophie to the corner that Gunnar still inhabited, then frowned. "But seriously, I really do hope you two can work out...whatever this is."
She winked, then slipped away to the bar, settling comfortably into the seat beside her newest interest with very little subtly. Amused, Sophie watched her for several moments, her smile fading when she realized she was now on her own.
She had a rather strange and difficult decision to make, and somehow neither option seemed to offer an ideal solution to her problems. She wanted to believe Rox's words were true. And if she chose to believe what she had seen on the video tape, it was possible they could be. But could she be confident that her observations had been accurate and that her desperate mind hadn't tricked her into seeing what she had wanted to see? And if her suspicions were wrong, if she herself was the reason for Gunnar's agitation, then it would likely only take one minor indiscretion on her part to finally send him over the edge. And as Rox had so carefully pointed out, Gunnar's bad side was one place she did not want to be.
Steadying herself, Sophie rose from her seat, then slowly turned in Gunnar's direction, their eyes meeting instantly across the room. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, gliding nervously across the floor to his table, where he still sat alone. She stopped in front of him and stood quietly, her eyes soft and questioning as they locked with his own, which were still fierce and intense. Tilting his head back, Gunnar finished off the last of the beer from the bottle in his hand and slid from his seat at the table. Without breaking his gaze, he reached into his pocket and retrieved some cash, which he tossed carelessly onto the table as payment for his tab. Then without a word, he stepped forward and grasped Sophie by the wrist, leading her across the room and out the door, and into the night.
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The sound of the lock being driven home pulled Sophie back to reality. She glanced behind her and watched as Gunnar moved from the door toward the lamp beside the bed, turning it on. With the room partially lit, she examined the space, her gaze falling immediately on the large, king-size bed in front of her. Instantly, she felt her doubts returning, her stomach twisting in nervous knots. Steadying herself, she closed her eyes for a moment, certain that when she opened them again, she would find this was nothing but a dream, just some strange, twisted figment of her imagination. If someone had told her at the evening's beginning that she would wind up here, in some out-of-the-way motel, with the same crazed and dangerous man who had tormented her and haunted her thoughts for weeks, she would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. And yet, here she was. Here they were. Tucked away quietly, inside some secluded building, perfectly isolated from the outside world.
With a shaky hand, she dropped her purse into a nearby chair, only to realize at that moment that Gunnar was watching her intently. But if he noticed her nervousness, he did not comment, instead remaining silent, as he had for most of the evening. Not that she had offered much in the way of conversation herself.
Once outside the bar, she had warily made her request, just as Rox had instructed her to do. To her surprise, he had willingly obliged, taking her for a tour along the quiet roads outside the city on his motorcycle, which was currently parked outside their room. She had to admit that the excursion had been more pleasing than she had anticipated, so calming and peaceful. And she had rather enjoyed the added benefits, her body pressed against the big man in front of her, as her arms wrapped tight about his waist in an embrace that was nearly as intimate as others they had shared. Still, she had tried not to think, had tried not to question why she was here or what she was doing. She only wanted to enjoy the moment, to accept it for what it was, even if it only lasted for a little while.
Neither of them had discussed a destination, but Sophie found herself neither surprised nor upset when he had pulled into the parking lot of the old motel and killed the engine. He'd helped her off the bike, then dismounted himself, giving her a knowing look before he'd disappeared into the office. He had returned a few minutes later with a key, and without a comment, she'd followed him unwaveringly to their room.
Now with her doubts returning, Sophie hesitated, uncertain as to what her next move should be. As Rox had predicted, the fresh air seemed to have served him well, his body more at ease than it had been throughout most of the evening, his vision clear despite the vast quantity of alcohol he'd consumed. Still, his silent scrutiny did little to soothe her nerves and she fidgeted uncomfortably, what little courage she had left dissolving under his magnetic gaze.
He was the first to finally move, and Sophie watched expectantly as he shrugging out of his flannel shirt, then stripped off the worn t-shirt underneath. As she had anticipated, there were several bruises and lacerations dotting the skin along his upper arms and torso, most of their coloring identical to the ones upon his face and forearm. Still, they did not detract from the magnificence of the sight and she eyed his chest appreciatively as he tossed the shirt to the floor. Then he was gone, and she stared after him curiously as he disappeared into the bathroom behind him, the soft hum of the florescent lighting overshadowed by the distinct jingle of a heavy belt buckle as it connected with the tile floor.
The sound of the shower being turned on startled her with a frightening sense of déjà vu. Glancing about the room, Sophie was stricken with cold, harsh reality as she contemplated what it was she was about to do. Her attention shifted frantically from the door, to the bed, to the inviting open doorway of the bathroom, as she considered her options, none of them offering an unconditional promise of safety. Yet, the thought of leaving seemed like an inconceivable notion to consider. She had risked so much to get to this point. If she gave up now, she knew she'd likely spend every day of the rest of her life regretting it.
With trembling hands, she began to unbutton her blouse, slipping it off and draping it over the back of the same chair where her purse had landed. The remainder of her clothing followed in short order, until she stood completely nude in the center of the room. Steeling herself, she padded quietly to the bathroom, hesitating in the doorway at the unexpected sight before her. Amused, she couldn't suppress the grin that appeared on her face at the sight of Gunnar crammed into the crowded space of the shower, the top of his head still visible over the high rail of the curtain. His back was turned toward her, and she could see how he concentrated the heavy stream of water over the aching muscles of his shoulders, his posture indicating he was more weary and sore than he would otherwise have her believe.
"You gonna stand out there all night, Princess?" he inquired softly and Sophie jumped, startled by the sound, surprised that he'd heard her so easily over the steady rush of the water.
Tentatively, she tiptoed forward and moved the curtain aside, stepping into the shower beside him, immediately stricken with how claustrophobic the space felt when filled with his large frame. Using his fingers to wipe away the water from his eyes, Gunnar turned toward her, his gaze roving shamelessly over her naked body as she stood before him. Taking a closer look at his face, Sophie was relieved to see that most of the anger had faded from his features, although his expression darkened considerably with differing emotions as he took her in.
Carefully, she moved closer, ignoring the warnings that sounded in the back of her mind as she eased her way into his arms. She was grateful to find that he welcomed her readily, his large hands splaying across her back as he pulled her to him. He dipped his head, offering a kiss, and she stood up on her toes to meet him part-way, her hands slipping through his hair to draw him closer.
At the contact, Sophie released a contented sigh as she melted against him, her breasts crushed against his chest as he gripped her tighter, their tongues dueling in a desperate battle for control. Her relief was palpable, encouraged by the need of his touch and the heat of his kiss, everything else falling away as the sheer force of desire consumed them.
His arms tightening about her with vicious possessiveness, Gunnar shifted unexpectedly and Sophie gasped in surprise, the delicate sound swallowed by his growl of desire as he tugged her beneath the water with him. The hot stream enfolded her in an embrace all its own, heavy drops streaming down her breasts, flicking at her hardened nipples before trailing away along the flat plane of her stomach to disappear between her thighs. The sensations fueled her arousal, every nerve awash with passionate longing as he crushed her soft lips beneath his. Her fingers released their hold on his hair only to dig into his shoulders in a desperate grasp, certain that at any moment he would disappear, that this would end, and she would awaken cold and lonely in the painful desolation of her own empty room.
Breaking the kiss, Sophie lowered herself down onto weakened legs, relishing Gunnar's lust-filled gaze before her own attention dropped to the tempting plane of his chest, which moved with the steady rhythm of his quickening breath. Slowly, she leaned forward, leaving a trail of soft kisses down the center, as her hands settled on either side of his waist. Mindful of his numerous abrasions, she let them wander, gliding cautiously over the tender spots that marred his skin, soothing each one with a delicate caress of her lips. Surprisingly, he did not move to stop her, but she could feel the heavy weight of his stare heating her skin as she lavished him with such thorough attention.
Growing bolder, she let her hands roam lower, one of them wrapping around the hardened length of his arousal, her fist caressing him in slow, delightful strokes. She was rewarded with the faintest sound of a groan, before his hand closed firmly around her wrist, stilling her movements as he claimed her mouth in another heated kiss. Locking her in his arms, he turned, pressing her against the cold tile of the shower wall, returning the favor, even as he ignored the soft whimpers of torment that rose from the back of her throat.
Later, Sophie could state with certainty that she'd just experienced the longest shower of her life, although most of it had passed by in a fleeting, erotic blur. Yet, somehow, they had managed to wash themselves and each other, the rising heat of their passion keeping them warm even after the water had long grown cool. It was only until he turned off the water that Gunnar finally released her from his grasp, and she reluctantly put some distance between them, the cool air chilling her skin as she pulled back the curtain and stepped out onto the mat to grab a couple of towels.
Preoccupied with pleasant thoughts of what was still to come, she absentmindedly passed one to him, then unfolded the other, intent on drying herself. Instantly, she felt his steely grasp close around her wrist again, and she turned toward him, surprised to find he'd already joined her on the mat.
With a quick jerk, he tugged her closer and she stumbled forward, caught off balance by the sudden motion. Instinctively, she braced her hands against his chest to steady herself, and she gave a questioning glance upward, catching the lustful gaze in his eyes seconds before his mouth closed over hers, the subject of drying themselves apparently already forgotten.
This time there was no hesitation. No caution. No gentleness. One moment, she was standing on her feet beside him. In the next instant, she felt herself being lifted, then placed on the edge of the countertop on the other side of the room. Undaunted, her legs wrapped eagerly about his waist, her hands pressed against his solid biceps as she braced herself against the ferocity of his assault. Despite her agreeable response, she felt one of his hands slide through her hair, his fingers tangling forcefully through the darkened locks, holding her in place as he bruised her soft lips beneath his own. Sophie had little time to think, what concern she had over the sudden force of his actions eclipsed by uncontrollable longing. She understood his hunger - the desperate, brutal need, which was so comparable to her own. And there was simply no way for her to deny him what he desired. Not when her yearning was equally strong.
His free hand gripped her hip, sliding her forward until she felt the hard length of him pressed between her parted thighs. Wrenching his lips from her mouth, he dipped his head to feast on her neck with an equal passion, his other hand releasing her hair to allow him to paw roughly at her breast.
Caught up in the sensations, Sophie shivered, her breath coming in shuddering gasps as she tilted her head, her hands sliding around his chest to claw at his back, her hips rising to press herself harder against his arousal. She moaned softly, his name spilling from her lips in a hot, breathy whisper of encouragement and for one brief moment, she felt his grip on her hip grow unbearably tight. Her sigh of delight gave way to a yelp of pain, and she flinched, immediately certain that she would be gifted with her own array of colorful bruises before the night was through. Then without warning, he tore himself from her embrace and she was left dangling on the edge of the counter, scrambling to keep her balance before she tumbled head first to the floor below.
Dazed by his sudden abandonment, she glanced about the room, only to find him lingering in the doorway, his back toward her, his knuckles white from his furious grip on the wooden frame. The image made her hip throb in commiseration and she ran her hand soothingly over the patch of skin, which had already begun to darken.
"Gunnar? Is something...wrong?" she inquired, confused, her voice unsteady. This wasn't like him. She knew from experience that he was not the type of man to back down from something he wanted. And he wanted her. That much, at least, was obvious.
Still rooted in the doorway, Gunnar remained as still as he was quiet. Although his extended silence alarmed her, Sophie instinctively knew it would not be wise to try to approach him. Instead, she remained where she was, perched precariously on the edge of the counter, as she waited for him to acknowledge her question.
His free hand clenched into a fist, Gunnar braced himself against the door frame as he tried to check his emotions. He wanted to hit something. Hard. The door. The wall. Nearly anything at this point would suffice.
He was angry. Furious. For his weakness. For her foolishness.
The moment that he'd found himself alone with her, he'd known that this would happen. That he would have to have her again. That he would make her his once more.
He'd tried to fight back his desire, telling himself as he guided them through town on his bike to just take her home, send her back where she'd come from, keep her out of harm's way. But despite his best intentions, he'd found himself traveling the back roads of the city, leading her further and further away from safety, driving them both toward the cruel reality of fate. He'd found himself pulling into the parking lot of the motel almost without thinking. And the look of acceptance in her eyes as they'd stood together on the worn asphalt, had provided him with all the encouragement he'd needed.
The sound of his name on her lips had been like a bucket of ice water poured down his spine, instantly extinguishing the blaze of passion that had stoked between them. It should not have affected him as strongly as it did, he knew. Given her lengthy conversation with Rox, he was certain she now possessed a great deal more information about him than she had at the beginning of the evening. Yet, it was still more than he wanted her to know. Knowledge bred familiarity. And familiarity eradicated the distance that he'd been so determined to keep between them.
This was exactly what he had intended to protect her from. His selfishness. His greed. His lust. He'd hurt her, he knew. And it likely would not be the last time, unless he got himself under control. His resolve, which had initially been so strong, had failed miserably. And he was a man who did not like to fail.
If only she had stayed away...
His temper flaring anew, he finally turned to face her and Sophie felt a cold chill run through her at the expression on his face. The anger was back, in full force, and based on the look in his eyes, most of it appeared to be directed toward her. She coward away from him, her eyes darting about the room in search of safety, her expression full of confusion as she tried to comprehend his abrupt change in attitude. He stalked toward her, in the same slow, threatening motion that she'd come to know so well, then stopped in front of her, leaning in so his face was close to hers, his hands braced against the countertop beside each of her legs to prevent her escape.
"Why were you at Tool's tonight? How did you find me?" he demanded, gruffly.
Sophie stuttered, her ability to think properly impeded by his intimidating posture.
"I..I…just…I had no idea that you would be there." she finally answered, sensing his impatience. "I was just looking for...information."
"Information?" he cocked an eyebrow, the tone of voice indicating he expected her to elaborate.
"A name. An address. Something." she explained, shrugging slightly. "I didn't know anything about you. About who you are. Or what you do. I was curious. And I thought…." She hesitated as she watched his jaw clench. "I thought if I could find you…. if I could see you again…."
Gunnar scoffed, silencing her. He closed his eyes, and Sophie noticed the tick in his jaw growing stronger as he tried to rein in whatever emotion was threatening to rise up and take control. When he opened them again, they were dark and furious, the rage simmering in their shadowy depths, along with some other emotion that she did not dare to try to name.
"You want to know who I am? This is who I am!" he growled, motioning toward the mark he'd left on her hip and the others that now appeared along her neck from his rough assault. "You have no idea the things I've done...that I've done to others...that I enjoyed doing to others. I could tell you things about me that would give you nightmares for the rest of your life."
He pushed himself off the counter and stood upright, not missing the way Sophie flinched as he did so. She was staring at him, wide-eyed and fearful, obviously at a loss as to how to respond.
"Let me guess…you think this is all just an act? For your benefit? That I'm just trying to impress you? That maybe I'm not quite as bad as I seem?" he paused a moment, then gave a low chuckle. "Or, maybe you think you're going to fix me somehow? That you're just gonna waltz right in and magically take care of everything? Save me from myself? That it?"
Sophie gave a faint shake of her head, still too stunned to speak.
"Well, in case you haven't notice, this isn't a fairy tale, Princess," he added, spitting the word out in a snarl, the sarcasm unmistakable. "I don't know what it is that you expected to gain. But I can promise, you won't find a happy ending here."
He slowly backed away toward the door. "You shouldn't have come." he warned, his tone harsh. "You don't have any business being here."
Then Sophie was alone again, and she blinked numbly at the empty doorway, her fear giving way to righteous indignation. Processing his words, she jumped from the countertop and snatched one of the towels from the floor, wrapping it around her, before she stormed out of the bathroom.
"I don't have any business being here? You didn't have any business being in my home!" she argued, catching up to him. He turned to face her, and even though his stare was still frigid, Sophie was not deterred. "You want to be angry with me for trying to make sense out of everything that's happened? In case you've forgotten, you were the one who started this! You were the one who broke into my house! Twice! I didn't have a clue who you were. Hell, I still don't!"
She could feel the tears forming behind her eyes and she struggled to fight them back. She would not give this man the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
"I was just fine before I met you!" she continued, her voice breaking slightly, despite her best efforts. "My life was perfect before you decided to show up and ruin everything! You came after me! So don't you dare stand there and try to pretend that all of this is my fault!"
Finally releasing months' worth of pent-up hurt and confusion, her voice had grown steadily louder the longer she talked, whatever terror she'd held only moments earlier dissipating beneath her outrage.
Stone-faced and silent, Gunnar fumed as he stood in front of her, his fists clenching by his side as she rattled off her list of accusations. She was right, of course, which only added to his irritation, although he knew he would never confess such a thing to her outloud.
The depth of her fury surprised him, those enchanting green eyes that so thoroughly captivated him, alight with a fire he doubted many had ever seen. Tears shimmered across their surface, deepening their sparkle and he thought he could lose himself forever inside their flaming depths if given the chance. Her hair, damp & unkempt, fell in layers over her bare shoulders – shoulders that he knew felt so soft and fragile beneath the gentle stroke of his tongue – the ends drawing into soft curls as they began to dry. He could not help but remember the way it looked spread out on the mattress around her face as she lay beneath him, how the strands slipped luxuriously through his hands as his fingers guided her to his will. Unconsciously, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, instantly reminded of the way she'd caught it between her teeth earlier and nibbled with just the right amount of pressure, sending the sensation sweeping through his body, all the way to his loins.
Her tirade was still going and she gestured wildly as she spoke, her body jerking with the force of her efforts. Gunnar couldn't stop himself from letting his eyes wander lower, toward the curve of her breasts, as he considered how much more it would take before the feeble wrap of the towel worked its way loose. He felt his body tighten, his fingers itching to reach out and tug the fabric apart, and even as he felt himself began to move forward, he caught his train of thought, cursing himself as he forced his attention back to her face.
"I've listened to you lecture me, telling me how I'm so weak and afraid! How I'm too scared to let myself feel anything!" Sophie reminded him, recalling his words the first night he'd confronted her. "Well, maybe I am! Maybe I'm exactly what you say I am!"
She swung her arm, taking a step back as she did so and again, Gunner let his attention drift lower, to the split at the bottom of the towel, which rode dangerously high on her thigh. He pictured his hand slipping beneath the textured fabric, pushing the material aside as his mouth trailed hungrily in its wake, imagining the way her body would writhe beneath his tongue as he pleasured her. His eyes briefly shifted toward the direction of the bed as he bit back a groan, his body responding to the image, even as he tried to block it from his mind.
"But I am not the only one who's running away!" she argued, poking him in the chest, hard, with a sense of finality. "So don't you stand there and pretend that you're any better than me!"
Her rant over, Sophie stormed past him, toward the chair that held her possessions, intent on leaving the place as fast as she could. If she had to hitch a ride with a total stranger, or even if she had to walk the whole damn way back on foot, she refused to tolerate his egotistical attitude for another moment. She decided it was well worth the risk to her safety, in order to preserve her sanity.
Without thinking, she loosened the towel and let it fall to the floor, as she simultaneously reached for the pile of clothing she'd carefully draped across the back of the chair. In the next instant, she found herself flat on her back on the bed, both wrists pinned with one strong forearm as Gunnar trapped her beneath him. His free hand grasped the back of her head, his fingers gliding through the soft tresses, just as he'd considered only moments before, silencing any forthcoming complaints with a searing kiss, until she was soft and compliant beneath him.
He heard her gasp softly, her breathing harsh as he pulled back to study her, the last of his resolve crumbling under the weight of her questioning stare. He warned himself that he was treading into dangerous territory, that he should walk away before he did something he knew he'd come to regret tomorrow. But still, he couldn't bring himself to move, couldn't tear himself away from those brilliant, green eyes that ripped through all of his defenses and seemed to penetrate down to his very soul.
One more night. Surely, there would be no harm in that.
They were here. They were alone. It would be a shame to waste such an opportunity. In the grand scheme of things, he supposed that spending one final night together wasn't the worst thing that could happen. They could enjoy each other while they had the chance. And when morning arrived, he would send her on her way, only after he'd made absolutely certain she understood that, under no circumstances, would she ever see him again.
He found his body agreed rather enthusiastically with the idea, and with a sigh of resignation, he lowered his head, brushing his mouth across hers in a slow, tantalizing motion, silencing the protest that had formed on her lips. He had intended the action to be softer, more gentle, a quiet plea of atonement for the way he'd roughed her up so cruelly a short time ago. But, as before, his control faltered, his mouth slanting over hers to deepen the kiss as he quickly grew more demanding.
Beneath him, Sophie struggled to maintain her outrage, her body betraying her in its eagerness to experience the thrill of his skillful touch. His conflicting emotions, so hot and cold, dizzied her with their rapidly changing pace. He was a nearly impossible man to read, his reactions so frustrating in their unpredictability, which, she realized, made him all the more dangerous. She was thankful that his mood seemed to have mellowed, at least for the moment, but she couldn't help but wonder how long the peace would last. Given the way things were going, at some point, they were bound to get worse. And right now, neither her body nor her soul was prepared to deal with any more of his rejection.
Above her, Gunnar felt Sophie return his kiss, although he was not so far gone that he failed to sense the hesitation behind it. She was holding back, her energy still focused on freeing herself from his solid grasp, no doubt still angry over their altercation. Not that he could blame her. But if this was to be their last time together, he wasn't going to waste it bickering over things that, by tomorrow, would no longer have any relevance. Instead, he planned to make it a very memorable night, one that she wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. And her reluctance simply wouldn't do. Not for what he had in mind.
He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing along her jaw to graze over her ear.
"How about a game?" Sophie heard him mumble, and instantly, she tensed, uncertain she liked the direction that things were headed.
She braced herself, expecting another one of his vast mood swings or taunting insults to follow the cryptic words. Instead, she felt his hand run slowly down her side, lingering on her hip, his thumb stroking in leisurely circles against her heated skin in a feather-soft caress. She closed her eyes, silently cursing him as she tried to fight the sensation, but not before she caught the faint trace of the grin that appeared on his face as she squirmed in his hand. Damn the man! He knew exactly what he was doing to her!
He shifted his attention from her ear to her shoulder, his tongue burning a path across her collarbone to the delicate curve of her throat. "Give me a number. I'm sure you've got a lucky one. Most people do." His mouth continued across her throat, up the side of her neck, nuzzling the spot he knew she favored so well, and he was rewarded with a shiver of delight. "I should probably warn you though….you'd be wise to keep it in the single digits."
Why was he suddenly talking about numbers? Sophie tried to focus on exactly what he was asking, but he chose that moment to draw the stiff peak of one breast into his mouth, his tongue flicking across the hardened nipple. She moaned, her body arching into him, her train of thought evaporating beneath the pleasure. The contact was brief, just enough to give her a hint of things to come, before he brought his face back to hers. He led her into another kiss and when he pulled back, he urged her to open her eyes to meet his steady gaze.
"A number, Princess." he demanded quietly, his free hand still working its magic on her body.
Sophie swallowed hard, a wave of desire fluttering through the pit of her stomach. She still had no idea what it was that he wanted, but she racked her brain to come up with a suitable answer that would hopefully satisfy him before his impatience kicked in. Yet, in her current state, the only thing that came to mind immediately was the number on the door outside of their room. And she could remember it only because it had provided such a welcome distraction from the sight of Gunnar's broad shoulders as he'd turned his back to her in order to unlock the door.
"Four." she whispered obediently, her unease intensifying as he offered a mischievous smirk in response.
"Ambitious." he murmured, his gaze lowering to rake hungrily over her nude form. "I'm impressed..."
Sophie raised a questioning eyebrow, but before the words could pass her lips, Gunnar took her mouth again, satisfied with the way she began to come alive beneath him as his hand wandered along her bare skin, teasing in long, slow strokes that mimicking the motion of his tongue against her own. With an expert touch that Sophie knew she had no chance of resisting, he drove her into a state of complete submission, whatever questions she had quickly falling away to the back of her mind.
She shuddered as he palmed one breast, rolling the hardened tip between his fingers, her hips arching into his bare thigh, which was pressed between her own, holding her in place. Her body, which had been so primed and ready after their sensual shower, eagerly sprang back to life, heat swirling through every limb as he tormented her anew.
Whimpering, she strained against his grip, as his mouth lavished her jaw, her ear, her throat; his palm dragging across her ribs, her abdomen, to slip between her parted thighs. He shifted his body to allow himself room to explore, his fingers grazing across her heated center at the same time his lips closed around one taunt nipple. She was already hot and wet for him, a fact of which he'd been all too aware, as their bodies had been so passionately entwined earlier against the cool tile of the bath.
His fingertips danced across the slick surface in a teasing motion and Sophie gasped loudly, bucking her hips in search of a more satisfying caress. He surprised her by granting her muted request, fingers sliding into her heated core as his thumb circled her swollen clit, his tongue working the stiff peak of her breast in a similar rhythm. He groaned as he heard her breath began to quicken, her hips riding his fingers faster as the tension coiled within her. Then she shuddered, her moan of anticipation building to a sharp cry of delight as the wave of pleasure overtook her. Releasing her breast in favor of her mouth, his tongue ravaged her, devouring her continued cries as the tremors coursed through her. He felt her go limp beneath him, her body sinking into the mattress as she panted heavily, weakened from her efforts, and he pulled back to gaze down at her, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.
"That's one." he murmured, and as her tired eyes grew wide with comprehension, he took her mouth again, silencing any protests she might have had regarding the matter.
Sophie whimpered, her struggles half-hearted and useless against Gunnar's dominant embrace as realization took hold, but he didn't give her time to dwell on the matter. His hand slid up her thigh and across her hip to settle at the small of her back, pulling her closer, the hard length of him pressed against her abdomen. He nuzzled her neck, his touch growing soft as he pressed his lips against her throbbing pulse, his tongue soothing the discolored marks he'd left earlier upon her skin. Unable to stop herself, Sophie sighed and relaxed against him, savoring his warmth, his tenderness. This was the man she remembered from the video, the one who had cherished her and treated her with such care. This was the man she had come to find.
Gunnar pulled back to stare down at her, his longing visible, and Sophie raised her head to kiss him, her tongue sliding across his own, teasing him, tasting him, his arm tightening about her with every touch. Abruptly, he relinquished his hold on her wrists, shifting his weight to roll her to her back, the kiss intensifying as her hands settled on him, drawing cautiously over hardened muscles, still mindful of the bruises that blemished his skin.
Her hands fell away as his lips blazed a path down her body, pausing to tease each taunt breast again before he settled himself between her parted thighs, his mouth picking up where his fingers had left off. Sophie moaned, her hands fisting through the bed-cover as she recalled their first night together, how he'd teased her endlessly, how he'd pleasured her so thoroughly. He would drive her to the point of madness and beyond. Yet, she could only squirm in anticipation, knowing that whatever torment he intended to inflict, he would undoubtedly make up to her in the end.
And he didn't disappoint. He teased her with wicked slowness, until she was desperate and weak, every nerve quivering with unbridled arousal. She was on the verge of begging, which no doubt would have provided him with a great deal of satisfaction. But fortunately, he spared her the embarrassment, working his way back up her body, until he was kneeling between her splayed legs. Without warning, he entered her quickly and Sophie gasped as her hips rose instinctively to meet his aggressive thrusts. She surrendered herself to him willingly, reveling in the feel of his strength and power, her body, so tightly wound by his lavish attention, aching for more. She came quickly, her face buried in the crook of his neck, her cries smothered against his skin, her nails clawing at the tense muscles of his shoulders with frantic need.
Gunnar stilled, listening with approval at her raspy breath, before he gathered her in his arms. With minimal effort, he sat upright, pulling her with him, until she was straddled on his lap, still impaled on the hardened length of him. To emphasize the point, he flexed his hips, driving himself deeper inside of her, rewarded with another whimper of pleasure.
"You're an evil bastard, you know that?" she inquired, still panting harshly. Surprisingly, the comment earned her a smile – a full, genuine, lopsided grin that made her pulse accelerate and her stomach flutter. Why was she not surprised that he could take such words as a compliment?
"Duly noted." he mumbled in agreement, before leaning in to draw his mouth over hers.
She shivered as his hands trailed down her spine, one settling on the curve of a hip, while the second slipped beneath her thighs to lift her, guide her. He moved her on him, setting a slow, steady pace and Sophie felt the heat building again in the pit of her stomach, the soft flutter building to a raging flame.
He commanded her so easily, so effortlessly, she felt as malleable as putty in his hands, his to mold and shape to his every whim. She wanted to make him lose some of that control, to let him see just how it felt to be consumed with such frantic desire, to wipe that smug look right off his handsome face.
Trembling with both passion and resolve, she wrapped her arms about his neck, fingers threading lightly through his hair. This time she was the one who deepened the kiss, tilting her head, inviting him deeper into her mouth. She sucked his tongue, her own caressing it with expert finesse, a not so subtle indicator that his mouth was not the only one that was capable of such wicked manipulation. In response, she felt his rhythm falter, his hips jerking upward with a hard thrust, and inwardly, she grinned, pleased with the result. Working her own hips in time with his, she flexed her pelvic muscles, tightening herself around him, even as she continued the suggestive motion of her tongue. This time, she was rewarded with another unrestrained thrust, accompanied by a deep groan of arousal.
Redoubling his efforts, Gunnar released her hip, forcing his hand between their joined bodies, burying it between the soft juncture of her thighs. He wrenched his mouth free from hers, growling with determination as his fingers brushed against her swollen clit. Sophie tossed her head back, moaning loudly, her own plans forgotten as he tortured her with pleasure.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with fire, Princess?" he ground out through clenched teeth, his restraint still in danger of failing.
He quickened his pace, his fingers matching it readily, her body torn apart by the unbearable sensations. She whispered his name, a helpless whimper of submission, then louder, in a desperate plea for relief. He groaned again as he felt her tighten around him for a second time, the tremors working their way through every straining muscle as she reached the breaking point, her nails digging into his shoulders painfully as she tumbled head over heels into the abyss.
Thoroughly spent, Sophie collapsed against him, her forehead falling against his shoulder, her hands still clutching weakly at his back. She was done. Completely. There was no way she had a fourth left in her. Not until she had sufficient time to rest.
Gunnar moved beneath her and she felt him, still hot and hard inside of him, her frustration quickly returning. Somehow he'd just managed to give her three amazing, toe-curling orgasms, while denying himself even one. Why he would want to do such a thing, she didn't understand. But by now, she chalked it up to nothing more than pure stubbornness on his part, whether it made an ounce of sense or not.
He stood, his arms still around her, supporting her, holding her close. Then she was on the bed again, her back settling into the comforting mattress as he released her, stretching out on the bed beside of her. He stared at her in quiet contemplation, as though sensing her doubts, his gaze enslaving her with his silent command.
You can. And you will.
Sophie shivered in anticipation as he drew her into another kiss, this one more gentle than the others before. His fingers traced along her skin in light patterns and she sighed, relaxing against him, fatigue quickly closing in on her. If he kept this up for long, she'd be asleep in no time. But given the fact she could feel his arousal still pressed hard against her leg, she was certain that, at this moment, sleep was the furthest thing from his mind.
Gunnar touched her face, his knuckles grazing in a soft caress along the line of her jaw to graze across her ear. He stroked her with the lightest of touches, her throat, her shoulder, her arm, the nerves pulsing beneath the pleasant contact. While his fingers deftly skimmed over half of her body, his lips assailed the other half, drifting over the ridge of her ear, down her neck and across her neglected shoulder. He brushed a trail along the valley between her breasts, looping sideways to cover the indention of each rib, before roving over the contour of her hipbone, tracing the seam along her upper thigh with torturous slowness. His fingertips stopped just short of her slick center, before roaming upward again, purposely avoiding the curve of her breasts on the return journey.
He positioned himself over her, supporting himself above her as he renewed the same path, his mouth replacing his fingers, the friction as breathtaking as ever. He teased her endlessly, mercilessly, his touch drawing so close, yet never quite reaching the places she needed it most. At some point, Sophie felt her body moving of its own accord, her fatigue long forgotten, as she writhed and twisted and squirmed in a desperate search for relief.
"Gunnar...please." she begged, as his mouth barely grazed across the peak of one breast.
She was rewarded with a muted chuckle instead, his gaze meeting hers over the mound of flesh. "Just trying to live up to my reputation." he explained, his tongue circling the hardened nipple without drawing it into his mouth.
Sophie moaned, her head falling back on the pillow, a curse dying off on her lips. It would not do to incite him right now, not when he held her pleasure so precariously in his hands. There was no doubt he could keep this up for most of the night, if she gave him good reason. And she suspected he would be more than ready for the challenge.
As it was, he appeared to take pity on her, and she nearly wept with relief when she felt his knees urging her thighs apart, the head of him pressed against her slick entrance. He paused, his eyes meeting hers, filling her with his lustful stare.
"Being an evil bastard certainly has its moments." he stated thoughtfully, before he drove himself home, filling her completely.
He dipped his head, lavishing her breasts with the attention they had so desperately craved and Sophie cried out, arching her back, seeking more. Unwilling to give up his control so easily, he clenched her hip tight, holding her to the bed as he began to move slowly within her. He was still teasing her, enjoying his show of dominance as the tension began to wind sinuously through her body again.
He released his hold on her as he set a steady pace, his own muscles straining with the effort of denial as he drove her toward complete submission. Beneath him, Sophie locked her hands around his arms, testing his tightened biceps appreciatively as he supported himself above her. They glided upward, fingers slipping through his hair, and she urged him closer for a kiss, her tongue resuming its artful seduction. Likewise, she swirled her hips in time with his thrusts, her interior muscles clenching around him, heightening every sensation as he pulsed inside of her.
"Sophie..." Gunnar growled out a low warning, even as his pace quickened. With a satisfied smirk of her own, she disregarded his admonishment, redoubling her efforts as he tried to regain his composure. Another flex of her muscles, another breathless warning and then he was taking her hard, pounding out his release with fierce, intense pleasure, a moan rumbling deep within his chest. The feel of him, so wild and unrestrained, thrilled her, encouraging her toward what she had thought was impossible to achieve, and she came with him, for a fourth time, his passionate thrusts driving her to completion.
They collapsed together onto the bed, completely spent, Sophie caressing Gunnar's back as his weight rested so heavy, yet so comfortingly on top of her. She reluctantly released him as he rolled thoughtfully to his side, looping an arm about her waist to draw her with him. She snuggled against his shoulder as he drew the covers over them, his fingers once again tangling through her hair. He nudged her gently, tilting her face up for one last, brief kiss before resting his chin on top of her head. Sleep quickly closing in, Sophie closed her eyes, her fingers skimming across the warm expanse of his chest.
"This doesn't get you off the hook, you know. I still think you're an evil bastard." she teased, fatigue slurring her words. She felt the sharp movement of his chest beneath her hand as he gave a snort of amusement.
"Smart girl." he mumbled, a satisfied grin on his face.
He held her tighter, whatever impending thoughts he might've had regarding the coming day pushed further to the back of his mind. The night wasn't over yet. And he wasn't willing to submit to it quite so easily.
He listened to Sophie's steady breathing, already asleep beside of him, such a warm and willing accomplice to his lustful endeavors. And plenty mischievous in her own right, he considered, recalling the way she'd dished out some torment of her own. Perhaps she was due some form of punishment for that little indiscretion, and he grinned as he glanced down at her sleeping form.
He'd let her rest, but only for a little while, the clock still ticking against them.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax, as he plotted out his next course of seduction. There were so many options and so little time. But whatever he might decide, he would have to make it good. He did have a reputation to uphold, after all.
xxxxxxxxx
In the faint light of early dawn, Sophie laid awake, propped up on one elbow as she observed the big man stretched out in the bed beside of her. His heavy breath and accompanying snores told her that he was still very much asleep, and with good reason, she might add, given the night they'd just had.
Even in the midst of a peaceful slumber, he was still a menacing figure to behold. He was such a paradox, so dark and dangerous and mysterious, and yet, he'd shown her more tenderness and compassion than she'd ever thought possible. Still, she had so many questions that remained unanswered, but she had finally resigned herself to the fact that they likely never would be. Whatever the truth might be, it mattered very little at this point. He was who he was, that much she couldn't change. And even if she could, it was an indulgence that she would never bring herself to ask.
Gunnar stirred slightly, then settled against the pillow, his snores picking up where they'd left off, a lock of blonde hair falling across his forehead to cover one eye. Sophie fought the urge to brush it away, fearful the action might wake him. And right now, waking him was the last thing she wanted to do.
She wasn't sure how long she continued to watch him, but as she became aware of the gradual shift in daylight across the room, she knew she was quickly running out of time. Soundlessly, she slipped from beneath the covers and tiptoed to the chair where she'd so carefully placed her clothing the night before, dressing herself in the shadowed gloom, her attention shifting frequently back to the man in the bed.
She refused to allow herself to linger on the guilt. She didn't do morning afters. Not well. And certainly not with him. After what they'd just shared, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin the memory with awkwardness or regret. Or, God forbid, one of his incomprehensible mood swings, that would likely eradicate all the good feelings she'd accumulated toward him over the past few hours. In the long run, things would be better this way. Easier. For both of them.
When she was fully dressed, she reluctantly gathered up her purse, then approached the bed, where she watched him for a few minutes longer. Slipping a hand into her pocket, she fished out the business card she'd tucked there the night before and studied it for a moment, before placing it on top of the pillow where she'd slept. Leaning over the bed, she carefully placed a soft kiss on his forehead, praying that the sensation wouldn't disturb him. She was relieved to see that he didn't even stir at the contact, his breathing still deep and steady.
Giving one last glance about the room, she gazed back down at his still sleeping form and smiled. Then without a sound she crept from the room, and disappeared into the fading shadows of the day.