Chapter 10

Samantha

I was knee-deep in wall coverings and fabric for the drapes and I couldn’t be happier. Something had changed, though, and it diminished my joy as I began to worry more and more about it. Dom was behaving differently. He’d become reclusive in his office, secretive when he came out and he insisted that I go with him whenever he left the building. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. If he regretted asking me to marry him, he wouldn’t have taken me with him when he left. Logic told me if he’d made a mistake in asking me, he would have tried to keep a distance between us instead. So, that didn’t make sense.

I wondered if he was in some sort of trouble. Since I’d known him, I’d not seen him do anything that looked the slightest bit risky. In fact, if anything, his life was boring. He ran his business almost entirely from the computer and with the rare exception, he stayed in and the world came to him. I knew he ran a website that catered to millionaire dating. All that technical stuff was beyond me for the most part and I was content to listen with half an ear as he explained it to me. Could that have somehow gotten him in trouble?

I wanted to ask and yet there was something about Dom that made you respect his distance. He seemed to need the balance of being with me and being alone. Some people were just like that, and I gave him that space.

I decided to ignore it for the time being. If Dom felt there was something I needed to know, he would tell me and my trying to pressure him into talking wouldn’t help things. He was extremely intelligent and capable, I doubted there was anything I could do that he couldn’t do for himself. I felt a wife’s obligation to worry about him, though. Even though I wasn’t technically his wife yet, I thought of myself in those terms.

I kept my focus on completing the apartment renovation as quickly as possible so the others would be gone. I sensed he felt violated somehow and it had been my fault. I wrapped things up quickly and rejoiced the afternoon the final touches were added. I’d planned a special dinner for the two of us and notified staff that I’d be cooking. I wanted to show Dom that he’d be getting a wife who could see to his every need. That didn’t mean just between the covers.

It was Italian night and I was elbow-deep in eggs, flour, and tomatoes as I made homemade lasagna, even down to fashioning fresh egg noodles. I carefully cleaned and tore up the ingredients for a colorful dinner salad and baked two loaves of French bread and a chocolate cake to round out the meal. I’d leave the choice of wine up to him.

He’d been in his office all day and when he emerged, the delicious scents from the kitchen were there to greet him. I was beaming ear to ear with pride and expectation. He seemed pre-occupied, though.

“Dom, is everything okay?”

He didn’t answer me at first, so I repeated my question.

“Are you okay?” I didn’t want to push, but I couldn’t ignore what was going on, either.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” But he’d been too quick to answer. As an actress, I studied human reactions and I knew things weren’t right with him.

“Is there something wrong between you and me?” I wanted to know, even if it meant that I’d have to leave. If he’d made a mistake, there was no logic in spending a lifetime of misery together.

“No, sweetheart, don’t worry about it. It’s just… business.”

I had a new thought then. “Have I been spending too much money? Has the business taken a downturn?

He burst out laughing at that. “You could spend that much and more every day of the week and not run me out of money. No, just some decisions I’m having to make and they’re not particularly pleasant. Just be patient with me—I’ll have everything resolved shortly.”

I knew I had to trust him, so I went back to my cooking and as it was finishing up, I showered and put on a sexy, navy blue sheath with gold buttons along the neck edge that plunged down to my waist. Matching heels and my best perfume and I was ready for him.

I served dinner in the living room where we ate at a new table I’d bought. It was a clever, Swedish design that folded into a small piece, seating two, or expanded via a set of scissoring braces into one that could seat a dozen. I put down a cream-colored linen tablecloth, gold-rimmed wine glasses and a small floral centerpiece with a candle. As he came out of the bedroom after showering, I pointed to one of the tapestry-covered chairs and indicated he should sit down. When he did, I leaned over him so he could see down my neckline, and lit the candle. He seemed oblivious and that shocked me. He’d never not reacted to my breasts before.

It was obvious he liked my cooking. He made throaty enjoyment noises and asked for seconds on the lasagna. “Can I save dessert for later?” he asked. “I’m stuffed.”

“Sure!” I was pleased with myself for the accomplishments and quickly cleared the table and put the dishes in the sink for the housekeeper in the morning. By all rights, I should have washed them, but that was hardly romantic. I wanted to spend time with my man.

We began on the sofa, Dom’s fingers nervously stroking the stem of his wine glass. Again, I knew something was bothering him but felt almost disloyal in asking about it. I chattered on about the completion of the decoration and he absent-mindedly nodded his approval. What was going on with him?

I leaned forward and then took the wine glass from his hand. I looked at the expression on his face and come hell or high water, I was going to change it. That’s when I stood up and held out my hand.

He looked up, his deep thought interrupted by my movements.

“Come on, come with me,” I told him, waving my fingers at him. He nodded and took hold of my hand. I led him down the hallway but stopped at the second bedroom. “There’s an old Irish custom…” I began.

“I didn’t know you were Irish?” he questioned me.

I stopped, looked thoughtful and said, “I’m not. Okay, there’s an old French custom…”

“You’re French?”

“You’re making this harder, Dom,” I laughed. “Okay, there’s an old custom of indefinable origin that dictates that one should never allow a stranger to sleep the first time in your bed or their energy will forever rule your dreams. So, we’re going to sleep in here tonight, and the next bedroom tomorrow night.”

“Oh, we are, are we?” Finally! I’d gotten his attention!

“Yes, we are!” I proclaimed and reached on tiptoe to kiss him hard on the mouth and then worked my way to his ear. I flicked my tongue rapidly in and out and I swore I felt his shoulders drop an inch from the tension he’d been under the past few days.

I pulled my dress over my head and my panties followed. I climbed onto the bed and pulled him toward me, unbuttoning his shirt and parting the fabric to revel in the dark hair on his chest. I took one of his nipples into my mouth and bit it, sucking at the same time.

“Ahhh…” came his response and I unbuckled his pants and dropped them so I could see his lower body response at the same time. I cupped his balls in one hand and pressed them firmly upward, against the base of his penis.

I kissed my way down his chest, sucking at the muscled skin and smoothing his back with my fingers like tiny massagers as I dropped downward. His eyes were closed as he reveled in the sensations and when I gently pushed his legs open, he didn’t resist.

I laid back on the bed, scooting forward so I was sitting on the floor, but my head lay on the mattress. I pulled him toward me and with my fingers, pumped him rapidly, using the moisture from my own pussy as lubrication. When he was showing signs of bursting, I grabbed the back of his thighs and pulled him toward me, feeding his cock into my mouth. Cupping my hands around him, I fed off him, moving my head back and forth to cover the length of him. I could tell his knees wanted to buckle, but I forced him to remain standing. He had to be in control; he needed a sense of control.

When my mouth withdrew, my fingers closed around him. For me it was like sucking water from a garden hose, my tongue flicking his vein-burgeoning cock like a feather boa. I didn’t stop but moved my head every so often so I came at him from another direction. That night was strictly for Dom. He reached down to touch my pussy, but I pushed his hand away. “Just feel,” I ordered him. “Open your eyes and watch me!”

He looked down, his dark eyes drunken with the overwhelming sensations I was forcing through his tense body. I moved so he could watch me slowly and carefully draw him into the cavity of my mouth and down the expanse of my throat. I flexed my throat muscles, adding to his enjoyment and all at once, he burst and flooded me. I drank it, swallowing and cooing my enjoyment as the hot semen filled my throat. “I love you, every part of you,” I whispered. Dom could do little more than nod as I gulped his fluids—the intensity was causing him to fall forward and lie on the bed beside me.

“I want you,” he whispered.

“Not this time. This time was for you,” came my answer. I rolled onto my hip and stroked his penis, calming it until gradually it returned to normal and I could feel the tension was gone from his body. “And so is this.”

I reached into the nightstand where I’d planted a cordless vibrator. I put it on a low, deep vibration setting and pressed it into the tender skin between the base of his cock and his balls. Gently, I pressed in and then withdrew the vibrating head, changing rhythms so there was anticipation that had yet to be rewarded. “Ohhhh, my god… what are you doing to me?” he struggled to say, his voice sleepy from my ministrations. With my left hand, I pushed around to his underside and inserted my index finger into the base of his anus. When I pressed in the vibrator from the front, I simultaneously pressed into his anus at the same time, as though both finger and vibrator head were trying to reach one another. His hips began to spasm from the constant erotic stimulation and finally, he pushed my hand away. “Enough!” he gasped. “That’s enough. I can’t take anymore!”

I chuckled softly and crawled over his prostrate body to lie on the far side, taking his head and cradling it between my breasts. He licked the soft skin and suckled on my nipple. “God, but I love you so much,” he moaned.

“I know. As I do you,” I told him in return.

Dom bent around so that his head was on the pillow and he drew me close against him, wrapping his long arms around my torso until I lay flat against him. It was as if he was trying to shield me from something that was about to attack. “I have to tell you something,” he said in a whisper, although there was no one around to hear. “I didn’t want to tell you. I wanted to keep it from you so you wouldn’t worry.”

Oh damn, here it comes. I knew there was something wrong, I thought to myself. “What is it?” I tried to keep my voice even and soft; to maintain the erotic, gentle mood we were both in.

“He’s following you, sweetheart. He’s wanting to get to you.”

I stiffened. He could only mean one person. “Satterly?”

He nodded. “He bought the apartment below us.”

“He’s here? In the building?” I cried out, struggling against Dom’s arms to sit up. “I’m going to kill him! That asshole! How dare he?”

I didn’t care who heard me. I couldn’t abide the thought of that man in this very building, right beneath where we lay at that moment and him probably listening. Can he hear me cry Dom’s name in a moment of passion? Is he plotting when to trap me in the elevator? Does he watch us with some sort of remote camera? “Nooooooo...” I panicked and climbed out of the bed, running to the bedroom and throwing on a robe. “He’s watching us, I just know it.” I was completely freaking out. My Midwestern level-headedness had gone out the window, along with my freedom and peace of mind.

Now what?