down the driveway to the great iron gates. But her mind was only partly on her driving; the rest of her was far away, wondering why a rich, beautiful young girl with the world at her feet would first ruin and then try to end her own life. What could have caused her to break down so completely? Most important of all, what could possibly have caused her to murder her own mother?
Chapter Five
Michael began moving faster inside Kate, his weight driving her down into the mattress and causing her to moan softly, partly in pleasure and partly to encourage him to greater effort. She bit into his shoulder, thrusting her hips up against his grinding pelvis and he growled in response and speeded up his rhythm again, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on his reddened, contorted face. He craned his head down to suck one erect nipple into his mouth and Kate arched her back to meet him while her fingernails lightly scored his back, relishing the feel and weight of a man on top of her again after so long alone.
Michael began a regular low grunting and Kate felt his teeth clos e gently on the soft skin of her neck as they moved faster and faster together towards a climax, their bare bellies slapping together as their passion became uncontrollable. With a deep groan Michael came inside her and when she felt him spasm Kate’s pelvis jerked in response as she too reached a short, sharp orgasm, her eyes tightly closed and her mouth open in a soundless moan of pleasure. Michael slumped down on top of her and lay motionless for several seconds before rolling off her onto his back, wiping the sweat off his face with one hand and panting for breath.
Kate felt a momentary stab of depression, even revulsio n, as he withdrew from her but she suppressed it, concentrating instead on the gentle waves of pleasure still suffusing her body, and trying not to think at all but simply to feel. Feeling was always so much safer than thinking. She certainly didn’t want to think about the disappointment of Michael’s unclad body, the drop she had felt and tried to conceal at her first sight of his pimply shoulders and pale, flabby midriff. With her libido flagging she had concentrated instead on his face and eyes and the way he made her feel, but even when desire had flared up again she had not been able to suppress the thought that he owed his tailor a great deal. But then, she had become accustomed to... She forced her mind not to form his name, instead thinking, Bette r things. I’ve become accustomed to better things.
She lay there quietly while Michael disposed of the condom, trying to hold onto the afterglow and perhaps unconsciously expecting him to return and envelop her in his arms with kisses and murmured endearments, as Peter would have done. But it was not to be; after he climbed back in beside her he rolled onto his side with his back to her. After a minute or so the sound of his breathing grew deeper and more regular and she realized, with a slight shock, that he had fallen asleep. She stifled any disappointment and kept her own eyes closed, willing herself to fall asleep too and above all not to think, but it was impossible. At last she conceded defeat by opening her eyes and staring at the dark ceiling above his bed, wondering what the hell she was doing there at all. This was not her, this was not her way, in spite of her recent loneliness. And sexual frustration, of course; never forget that. But it was her aching loneliness over the past few months that was the key. Loneliness for…
Kate slipped naked from the king-size bed and stood for a moment in the da rk, looking down at the sleeping form of Michael Riordan. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, Oh God, what have I done? She moved quietly across the room towards the en suite bathroom, her slender form ghostly pale in the faint streetlight coming in through the open curtains. She slipped into the
Chapter Five
Michael began moving faster inside Kate, his weight driving her down into the mattress and causing her to moan softly, partly in pleasure and partly to encourage him to greater effort. She bit into his shoulder, thrusting her hips up against his grinding pelvis and he growled in response and speeded up his rhythm again, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on his reddened, contorted face. He craned his head down to suck one erect nipple into his mouth and Kate arched her back to meet him while her fingernails lightly scored his back, relishing the feel and weight of a man on top of her again after so long alone.
Michael began a regular low grunting and Kate felt his teeth clos e gently on the soft skin of her neck as they moved faster and faster together towards a climax, their bare bellies slapping together as their passion became uncontrollable. With a deep groan Michael came inside her and when she felt him spasm Kate’s pelvis jerked in response as she too reached a short, sharp orgasm, her eyes tightly closed and her mouth open in a soundless moan of pleasure. Michael slumped down on top of her and lay motionless for several seconds before rolling off her onto his back, wiping the sweat off his face with one hand and panting for breath.
Kate felt a momentary stab of depression, even revulsio n, as he withdrew from her but she suppressed it, concentrating instead on the gentle waves of pleasure still suffusing her body, and trying not to think at all but simply to feel. Feeling was always so much safer than thinking. She certainly didn’t want to think about the disappointment of Michael’s unclad body, the drop she had felt and tried to conceal at her first sight of his pimply shoulders and pale, flabby midriff. With her libido flagging she had concentrated instead on his face and eyes and the way he made her feel, but even when desire had flared up again she had not been able to suppress the thought that he owed his tailor a great deal. But then, she had become accustomed to... She forced her mind not to form his name, instead thinking, Bette r things. I’ve become accustomed to better things.
She lay there quietly while Michael disposed of the condom, trying to hold onto the afterglow and perhaps unconsciously expecting him to return and envelop her in his arms with kisses and murmured endearments, as Peter would have done. But it was not to be; after he climbed back in beside her he rolled onto his side with his back to her. After a minute or so the sound of his breathing grew deeper and more regular and she realized, with a slight shock, that he had fallen asleep. She stifled any disappointment and kept her own eyes closed, willing herself to fall asleep too and above all not to think, but it was impossible. At last she conceded defeat by opening her eyes and staring at the dark ceiling above his bed, wondering what the hell she was doing there at all. This was not her, this was not her way, in spite of her recent loneliness. And sexual frustration, of course; never forget that. But it was her aching loneliness over the past few months that was the key. Loneliness for…
Kate slipped naked from the king-size bed and stood for a moment in the da rk, looking down at the sleeping form of Michael Riordan. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, Oh God, what have I done? She moved quietly across the room towards the en suite bathroom, her slender form ghostly pale in the faint streetlight coming in through the open curtains. She slipped into the
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