I ground myself against the edge of the table as he pounded into me. I could feel the pressure build between my legs only to rise and pool inside my stomach like molten metal.
Edward yanked on my hair harder as he unrelentingly pummeled into me from behind. He raised his arm and smacked my ass hard just as his hips connected with my punished ass.
He ground out, “That’s my sweet girl.”
The dubious endearment uttered in his dark and guttural voice combined with the thrusting of his cock was my final undoing. For the first time in my life, I came just from a man fucking me. Wave after wave of light euphoria crested over me. I had to cling to the table to keep my knees from buckling as my heart raced and my cheeks heated from my shameless orgasm.
Edward yanked on my hair one last time as he shouted his own release.
Moments later he pulled out. As I lay sprawled on the table, afraid or simply unable to move, I felt him flip my dress down. At first, I thought it was a sensitive gesture to cover my nakedness after such a fierce display. I was disavowed of that notion when he then used my dress hem to wipe the come off his cock.
I heard him raise his zipper. I then heard the rustle of clothing. Through half-closed eyes I watched him rebutton his shirt and shrug into his suit coat. He tossed his tie around his neck but left the ends dangling as he approached my still form.
I flinched as he caressed my back.
Edward wrapped his hand around my upper arm and pulled me upright. He placed two fingers under my chin and lifted my head to meet his gaze. I tried to avert my eyes, but I could actuallyfeelhis displeasure and obediently pulled my gaze back to his.
He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Next time I’ll lick that sweet pussy until you purr, pet.”
My jaw stiffened as I forced the words through my teeth. “There won’t be a next time. I want to forget this ever happened.”
He walked over to Dr. Jekyll’s journal and ripped out a page. He then tucked it and a vial of red liquid into his inside suit pocket. Afterward, he bent down and picked up my discarded panties. He raised them to his nose and, to my horror, inhaled deeply before tucking them into his breast pocket as if they were a silk pocket square. He gave me an insolent wink before strolling past me. He called over his shoulder, “Trust me, baby girl. Therewillbe a next time.”
I ran after him a few steps before I couldn’t trust my vision to navigate the glass and equipment-laden tables of the laboratory. “Please, Edward.Pleasedon’t tell Henry about this!”
Edward turned with his hand on the doorknob. “Something tells me he’ll know without my breathing a word.”
His laughter mocked me all the way down the hallway as he left.
CHAPTER9
HYDE
Awell-dressed gentleman of taste among a sea of off-the-rack polyester approached me.
I raised my glass of Pappy Van Winkle aged bourbon in greeting. “You must be Dorian Gray.”
He bowed his head in acknowledgement. “And you must be Edward Hyde.” He unbuttoned his tailored suit coat and took the upholstered seat beside me. He then gestured to a passing tuxedoed attendant and ordered a bottle of William Fevre Chablis Vaulorent.
I raised an eyebrow. “A man of taste,” I sighed. “Such a rare commodity.”
Dorian smoothed his silk tie before responding. “Agreed.” He surveyed our surroundings. “Interesting choice.”
Barrington’s, the public gentlemen’s club, had delusions of grandeur. The owners were attempting to emulate the great private gentlemen’s clubs of London like White’s, Brooks’s, and Carlton Club but failing miserably. Unable to be located on the infamous St. James’s Street, Barrington’s was off the more unfortunate Piccadilly Square, among the rabble and tourists. Alas, with Jekyll’s meager salary as a university research scientist, this was all his bank account could afford me. I’d practically bankrupted him the other night with the purchase of a few tailored suits.
Hence my meeting with Dorian.
Uninterested in discussing my strained circumstances, I shrugged. “I occasionally like to go where the product sells.” I smirked as I lifted my glass to my lips. “Call it market research.”
Dorian accepted his full glass of Chablis from the attendant and frowned. He cast a glance at me. “I suppose it was enough that they had the vintage I wanted. It would have been asking too much to approve the bottle.”
We clinked glasses.
I surveyed the room. “So where is your man?”
Dorian checked his watch. “He’ll be here.”
“I never caught his name.”