Out of the Past Pt. 01

He heels made her legs look fantastic, she had to admit, and the robe hide nothing. Her hair flowed in loose waves over her shoulders and the sadistic stylists had given her light makeup to soothe and cover the redness of her treatments, bare eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. Her blue eyes looked huge and the slight fear shone through. The combination of the "fuck me, now" get up and those eyes made her look alluring, just what Sebastian had been going for.

What was he planning? Was she supposed to seduce him? The thought made her nerves jangle. It wasn't that he'd been the only one, in the years since she left she'd had other lovers, it was that it had been three years. For three years she'd been left alone to pleasure herself in the dark, or watch Johnny-

She cut the thought off. No use thinking about him now, she had bigger fish to fry. Did she take the stupid outfit off and- what? Face him naked/ put on her jeans which had mysteriously disappeared, probably for Luisa to clean.

The door opened downstairs and she heard low voices. Sebastian's baritone and Luisa's rapid alto spoke, and then the door shut. Was she supposed to wait in there for him? The room was unbearable masculine, but then so too was his room in all likelihood. His rooms, his territory, and she w as in this ridiculous getup. Sure, she supposed she looked like a wet dream but she felt vulnerable, worse than naked, and that was what he wanted.

Still, she couldn't fight. She'd made the agreement. If that's what it took, how bad could it be? She'd already known Sebastian in the biblical sense and they were both older, wiser, more experienced. She could handle this.

"Claire, come downstairs to the dining room," Sebastian called. His voice was commanding, as if he'd brook no defiance.

With a sigh she left the room and walked to the stairs. At the bottom Sebastian stood, still wearing the suit he'd left in. The dark material glinted in the low lights like something from an old back and white film. His hair was as smoothly tied back as it had been hours ago and she insanely found herself wondering what it looked like loose.

His eyes were hard like emeralds and he took her in, top to bottom as she slowly descended, gripping the banister with white knuckles. Here? Really?

Claire couldn't help but glance to the left side, once the seat of nightmares, but now it was empty. Sebastian's side was cool, remote, but he himself was like a pillar of flame.

"Excellent," he said, desire dripping from his voice.

Claire felt a rush of moisture between her legs. This was so surreal, so exciting, but she frowned knowing that it was all for him. There would probably be no...consideration for her. Shaking she stood proudly, refusing to cover herself or cower. If he thought she'd let him get away with that, he didn't know Claire Willoughby.

"We're having dinner."

Nothing he could have said would shock her more. Properly he held the crook of his arm aloft until she took it, and walked her to the dining room. There Luisa had set the table, turning the lights low, and candles were lit at the center. The dark color theme continued in here, unbearably masculine, and against it she knew she looked impossibly delicate. Still, the red, the shoes, these were things of power. Just because she'd made this desperate agreement didn't mean she had to give up control.

To her shock he led her to the seat to the right of the head of the table and pushed her chair in for her, walking sedately to take his own.

"Eat," was all Sebastian said.

"What?" Claire was confused. The attire, the shoes, the hair, the grooming...all for what, a dinner?

"I'm hungry...and I'll need my strength." The last he said staring into her eyes, and she had no doubt of what he meant.

Blushing, she ducked her head and picked up her fork. The dinner was great, food she hadn't been able to have for many years. The fish was flown in, the sauce was creamy and rich dressed with truffles, the rice with saffron and the vegetables snappy. When it was this good she could forgive not having bread or potatoes.

Still her nerves did not allow her to eat and she kept to the water and not the white wine. Claire needed her wits about her, and with every minute her worries grew. What the hell did he have planned?

Suddenly he stood and held out his hand to her. "Come with me."

On shaky legs she stood and followed, eyeing the stairs, but he passed them up for the living room. Setting her on the couch he took off his jacket and tied, rolled up his sleeves as he pushed a remote button and a panel rose to reveal the TV.

She could only goggle. "Um..."

"Yes?" He sat next to her and put his arm over the back of the couch behind her.

"Aren't we?"

He leaned in close, green eyes glittering. "In such a hurry to get me naked?"

Her face exploded into flame. What the hell was going on? She'd had men, many men, hell she'd had him those twelve years ago. Claire looked back to the television and he chuckled, putting on a movie. It was The Patriot.

Her nerves sank and a strange kind of calm came over her. There last night she had come to him in tears, scared out of her wits, interrupting his dinner. When she refused to tell him why he had her join him, eating fish and rice. After they had sat on a different couch in this very room watching The Patriot, sitting just like this. Somewhere before the end she had snuggled onto his chest, turned to ask him a question, and he'd kissed her.

They had fumbled on the couch, gasping and moaning as clumsy fingers discovered hidden places. When he'd led her up to his room they'd held hands, giggling with nerves. In the dark of night he'd done his best to please her, but she'd been scared as hell and all of sixteen. She remembered pain, yes, but after the feeling of young Sebastian holding her in his arms. She remembered kissing his brow and slipping out of his life for what she thought was forever.

He was recreating that night, but why? E seemed angry and she expected to be handcuffed, on her knees, suppressing her gag reflex. Instead he'd dressed her like a whore, but treated her as...as he had, if a less chatty.

As the movie wore on she refused to put her head on his shoulder, but his arm encircled her and dragged her over. He felt stiff and tight, vibrating with nerves as she was. Maybe he was too nervous to ask for what he wanted, maybe-

Sebastian turned and caught her lips in a kiss. No mere innocent brushing of lips this was a claiming. His lips were soft and firm, his tongue swift, hot, and bold as it swept inside. Within seconds all thought melted and she found herself clinging to him, grasping his shirt between white-knuckled fingers.

She had kissed many boys and a few men, but no one like this. Sebastian was pure strength and heat, and he kissed her like he was fucking her, taking his time but overwhelming her. Her body began to tingle, her breasts felt swollen and achy, and something low turned over inside her.

The moment her body surrendered he seemed to know, turning and moving while never breaking the kiss. Sebastian pressed Claire down onto the tan lather couch and settled between her legs. She gasped at the hard length of him, all the years had made her forget how impressive he was.

Desire pooled hot in her veins and tentatively she let her hands roam, discovering new sinews and valleys that had not been there before. Just when her hands slid down his stomach, aching to feel skin and not fine cotton and silk, he grabbed her wrists and jerked them away, over her head, pinning them.

"Be a good girl," he purred against her lips, tailing his mouth to capture her ear lobe between his teeth.

Despite herself, Claire cried out. It had been so long and it felt so good she didn't give a damn about anything else at that moment. He moved his hips slightly, surging against her, his erection pressing into her wet heat and Claire had to bite her lip to keep from begging.

He moved down, his mouth never leaving her body as he went, transferring her wrists to one hand. There were no shy caresses now, obviously Sebastian knew what he was doing, and she was helpless against the onslaught.

Then he tugged down a lacy cup and freed her pink nipple. The cool air made it pucker and then he covered her, pure shocking heat. She longed to bury her fingers in his long auburn hair, free those tresses and see them loose, flowing like cool silk over her hands, but he had her pinned firmly.

When he'd driven her mad with rapid, soft flicks, and hard, hot suckling, her simply moved to the other. Within seconds she was shameless,, whimpering, begging wordlessly, and still he moved slowly. When at least her hands were free he ducked them and moved lower. Frustrated, Claire grasped her flimsy robe and bunched and twisted it in her grip, knowing what he was about.

The anticipation was killing her. Her body was on fire, molten lava, and it threatened to overflow at any moment. Then he grasped the panties and tore them, making her gasp, but his touch was gentle. His thumbs parted her folds slowly, stroking over the tender flesh exposed.

She felt his hot breath inches away and raised her head to look. In the light his hair shined like bloodstone, and then he descended. Claire's eyes closed and she saw colors dance. This was such a rare act for her, and with no sensual touching of any kind in three years she was primed and ready to go off.

Too fast it built, no plateau, the pleasure so long denied rode on need and swelled to a crescendo. When it broke she was screaming wordlessly, louder than she could ever remember, he entire body shaking with the orgasm.

He kept going, licking fast now, flicking her clit, suckling, still those hot thumbs spreading her open for his hungry mouth. When it was over she was limp, sated. He sat up, mouth wet with her juices, green eyes blazing, and at long last he stood, that impressive erection straining his pants.

"You may sleep in the guest room."

Without another word he left the room and she heard a door close, it sounded like the bathroom or his office. Her soul and body cried out but her mind was relieved. That had been devastating. If it had gone on she knew she would have passed some brink she could not return from.

Before he reemerged she grabbed her torn panties and kicked off the shoes, running up the stairs to slam into the guest room. She had escaped a fearful night with only pleasure, and so Claire couldn't say why the tears fell when her head hit the pillow.

***

It took just three pumps of his tight fist before he came, shaking with a powerful orgasm he couldn't compare to any before. When it passed he sank to his knees in the bathroom, leaning against the door, and shook for moment.

It had been a good plan. Dress her up to throw her off, make her feel powerless and dependent, provide him some eye candy. Relive that long ago night, making love to her tenderly, bringing her to peak after peak with his entire body, then sleeping with her in his arms. In twelve days of that he new he could do what he hadn't been able to do at seventeen; he could make her fall in love with him. Then he would set her out on her ass and laugh at her tears.

But he'd miscalculated. Sebastian Kellner, the man who made venture capitalists quiver in fear, the man who worked the corporate world like a chess game, had miscalculated. Seeing her in that getup had been confronting his own greatest sexual fantasy. Then her kiss, she had been so hot, so sweet, so soft and feminine, her body cradling hiss, accepting everything.

Her breasts were every bit as magnificent as he remembered and he thought that now as a man of the world and not a fumbling teenage boy he could seduce her without being seduced. Then he'd tasted her, musky and sweet, and she had made those sounds, calling his name as she game, gushing her juices all over.

The urge to claim her then, to open his pants and fuck her hard, n condom and damn the consequences, had been too strong. Barely he'd pulled away and even with the self-gratification he still wanted to go to her, hold her, kiss her, enflame her, and make her beg.

Damn it all to hell. He stood and turned on the sink, splashing cold water on his face. Suddenly it occurred to him what he had miscalculated. Sebastian Kellner, Chicago's most-wanted bachelor, the king of one-night-stands, was still very much in love with the young-girl-cum-woman who'd broken his heart and abandoned him.

With a roar he punched the mirror and it shattered. He was bruised and bleeding, and it didn't help. Damn her, damn her to hell. He would use the next eleven days to make her crave him, but whatever it took, he would get her out of his system.

The past belonged in the past.