L. Miller - Gilded Wings

“Touch her again and I will kill you”, Connor hissed. His eyes seething with hatred for this spineless man placed in one the floor in front of us.

The bloodied man’s face fell with fear. He then stood up and fled from view.

Connor turned to face me. His eyes hued with gun metal grey. Stormy, full of anger. The intensity of our feelings open for one another to see. His arms engulfed me. Pulling me into his stone hard chest. Pressing against my breasts. His grip lessened at the realisation of my arms holding him back. Feeling his warm strong arms laced around my lower back, was like a cocoon protecting me from the outside world. I turned my head laying my cheek over his heart. Listening to the thrum of his heart beating vigorously.

“It’s ok Evie, I won’t let anyone hurt you”.

* * *

I climbed into my King size bed. Relieved to be home for the night. Nuzzling down into the crisp white Egyptian cotton duvet. Warmth surrounded me. I closed my eyes to the day. As I slipped into a peaceful slumber all I saw was Connor’s face.

“You look beautiful tonight”, tracing his finger across my shoulder and slipping the strap of my silk camisole down. He looked into my eyes never loosing focus as his fingers swept down my arm and across to meet with my waist. Warm pooling liquid gathered between my legs. I was so engaged to his every touch. My nipples hardened as his mouth surrounded one of them. Sucking and teasing it, running his tongue around and over my hard nipple. My body quivered. The strong masculine hand that he used to protect me tonight felt protective as he placed his palm on the nape of my neck. He was so gentle, so in tune with my desire to have him. My head tilted back to allow his tongue to devour mine. All of my senses were on overdrive.

* * *

I awoke in the morning feeling irrationally intrigued by my indecent dream. I was attracted to him immensely. I wanted to feel his touch on my body. The taste of his lips upon mine. The feeling of him inside of me.

My body was aching at the thought of him. A throbbing between my legs urged me to release the tension my body held. I was irrationally horny over my dream with Connor. I needed a release.

My fingers slipped between the lace of my black panties until they had found their way to my wet slit. The liquid was warm and had flowed naturally at the thought of Connor possessing my body. I stroked back and forth allowing my muscles to quiver with the erotic sensation I was unleashing on myself. My left hand slid underneath my silk camisole, massaging and pulling at my erect nipple. I worked my fingers around my clit and began to circle it. Intensifying the build up of pleasure I could feel between my legs. The immense feeling of desire flooded my body. I slipped a finger inside of myself. Moving in and out. Thrusting. The feeling of my warm silky skin against my bare fingers. I withdrew and rubbed my clitoris until I was on the brink of loosing myself. The image of Connor inscribed into my mind was the final push I needed to bring myself to a shuddering orgasm.

Five more nights until Henry returned.

Five more nights of freedom.

Wednesday had started as any other day. Opening my eyes to the thought of Connor. I hadn’t seen him since Travie’s gig two nights ago. Come to think of it I hadn’t heard from Henry either. Perhaps he was still perplexed by my tone with his Mother dearest. Pushing off my duvet I sought after my laptop. Grabbing it off of my dressing table I headed for the stairs. Tea first, just what I need.

Oh God. Owwe. A large thud to my buttocks was first indication that my feet had decided to miss the first step. Fuuuuccck. My arms swung out in an automatic reflex to grab the banister in the hope I could save myself from falling. It was no use. I tumbled. Every step had managed to come into contact a part of my body. Bruising was inevitable. Ow…… ow, ow, ow.

Sitting shaking at the foot of my stairwell I glanced to see my laptop smashed into about eight various pieces. Bollocks. What a great start to my day. Picking up the pieces I bought them through to the coffee table in the lounge and placed them out. I can do this, surely? — Can’t be that hard to fix. I clipped some of the loose keys back onto the pad. Not bad Evie. Pat on the back for me. Next I held out a long rectangular looking thingy-ma-giggy. After fifteen minutes of staring at the remaining parts hoping to have an epiphany I realised this was no use. I have no clue what any of these parts are.

Henry is going to be seething when I tell him. Perhaps. There is someone to fix everything.

I strode towards the kitchen. I was on a mission. Four days left, this is more than possible. Now if I can just find that damn Yellow pages then this can be forgotten and Henry will never know.

I tore through every cupboard and sifted through each shelf. It was nowhere to be seen. I knew I had placed it back here. My finger brushed over my growing collection of Good Food Magazines and cookery books. Henry. That’s it, Henry used it last.

I hurried out of the doorway and turned right into Henry’s office. I hesitated at the handle. I very rarely came into Henry’s office. It was his private space. Needs must. I twisted the handle and it failed to open, it was locked. I glanced, inspecting the offending lock, trying to fathom a way to break into a room in my house. I pulled a coin from my jean pocket and braced myself. The coin slipped into the crevice and allowed enough momentum to twist the lock. I pushed the door open and glanced around the immaculate room. His desk sat in the middle. The walls were emerald green with walnut veneered cladding covering the lower half. It seemed like something out of The Godfather. The room was dark, nothing like the rest of the house. It was a representation of Henry in every way. A large sheepskin rug covered the majority of the dark wood flooring. It was the only softness in a room of harsh lines and bold colours. I walked slowly towards his desk trailing my finger over the steel filing cabinets.

I sat back into the black buttoned leather chair. The atmosphere was inhabilitating. There was no way to describe it. For some unknown reason I felt vulnerable. Intuition was screaming at me. Why had Henry kept you out of here? Knowing I shouldn’t I reached for the bottom left hand draw and pulled it open. Stacks of files filled the space. Accounts. Costings, and at the very bottom my much needed Yellow pages. Bingo. I grabbed it slamming the drawn closed. Frustration overwhelmed me. My mind wanted me to find fault. Stupid Stupid girl.

* * *

Three days, three whole days to fix my laptop, at least it would be back in time, just. What if Henry had emailed? He would question my lack of response. I couldn’t tell him. The last time I dropped something he went ballistic. I know I was clumsy and it was my fault for not concentrating. But after not seeing him for fourteen days I do not need to be greeted by yet another bollocking.

I sat back into Henry’s office chair and started up his Mac. He will be none the wiser. I signed into my email account. Nothing. Not one email from him? A ping alerted me to a new email. I looked over my inbox but there was no new email. I logged out of my account and went to shut down the computer.

A bubble on the screen indicated received mail

1 New email from Thomas Hatfield

Why would Thomas be emailing him? Thomas is one of the main buyers for Webber’s and attends with Henry on all of his business meetings. Curiosity got the better of me and I clicked to open his inbox.

Thomas’ message was simple — Meeting in Dubai October 22nd 2012, Flight details to follow.

Another meeting? I sighed. Four days after our wedding? Great. That’s the honeymoon out of the question.

My eyes started to burn. 26 Emails from Antonia Cavill. Socialite bitch troll.

My hands trembling as I clicked open the most recent email.

To: Henry Webber

From: Antonia Cavill

Date: 20th September 2012

20.46pm

Fancy Goa tomorrow? I have two first class tickets booked. Join me and I will pack the beads, I know how much you like using them on me;-)

Love you

My body wanted to shut down. My heart was so heavy, as if it were made from stone. Bellowing aching pushed against my chest, restricting me. Breathing was excruciating; physically paining me. I wanted to scream from the roof tops. Throw all of his clothes out of the window. Change the locks and tell him to take his beads and shove them. However ironic it may have sounded.

That is what I wanted to do.

My body couldn’t move. Shock consumed me.

I shut down his computer. Not before removing the history. My eyes scanned over his office making sure there was no trace of evidence that I had been there. I placed the yellow pages neatly back into the bottom right hand draw. Walking out of his office I pulled the door shut. Twisting the lock behind me.

Emotions became too intoxicating for me to control. I had no control over my body and collapsed onto the floor pulling my legs into my chest. Feeling so foetal. I wrapped my arms over my legs protectively. Literally holding myself together, shielding myself from anymore pain that may consumed me. My chest tightened.

He is fucking someone else. I had no capacity to hold in my tears any longer. They fell freely, their trail burning my skin as if they were toxic. My lips trembled and my body shook violently. Floods of tears pooled onto the floor besides my face. I was a quivering mass of shattered pieces. The one person that had loved me, the one person that I had let into my heart had betrayed me.

Perhaps I had caused this. Insecurity was compelling me to find reason for his desolate affair. Our sex life was near non-existent. Perhaps I did fuel his torrid fuck fest. Perhaps this was my fault. In a moment of utter stillness and dislocation from the world I allowed myself to grieve.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of the doorbell. I opened my eyes slowly as they gradually adjusted to take in my surroundings and realised I was still lying on the hallway floor. I clambered together standing in front of the huge mirror which hung from the ivory wall. Staring back at me was a broken mess of a person. My eyes were bloodshot. Dark rings circled them. My skin was pale and withdrawn. I had aged ten years in the last five hours.

“Evie, it’s me, I know you’re in there your car is on the drive, let me in.” Luce shouted out.

Shit. Not now. “Um, hang on, I’m um naked, I just ran down for some clothes”. I lied.

“Ok, just hurry your ass up otherwise I’ll be coming in naked or not”.

With one last brush of my hair I took in a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hey Luce, why are you here?”

She was beaming, “Well… I wanted to know what you are doing tonight?”

I knew this was going to be a trick question and would lead myself right into one of her ideas. “Nothing, why?”

“Well we are going out. Connor is having a fight and has asked us all to go, you wanna come?”

“I’m not sure Luce, I um, well Henry is back soon and I um”. Lucy interrupted me. She was never one to take any of my shit.

“You ARE coming to this fight, it will be fun, you know that thing that people do to be sociable and have a happy fulfilled life?”

“Well aren’t you just little Miss Sarcastic this afternoon”.

“You know me Evie, I just like to inform you of the facts”.

“Where is he fighting?”

“At Equinox. It’s meant to be a big deal fight. Connor has bagged us cage side seats, hell yeah, it’s gonna be epic Evie. I love a good fight”.

“You’re such a man at heart”, I couldn’t hold back my smile. Her enthusiasm always rubbed off on me. Of course it had nothing to do with Connor being there.

“That’s more like it. I like a fight and of course don’t mind ooogling the men fighting who happen to be impeccably toned, fit and sexy. Just a perk of the fight eh”. Lucy winked at me sending me into hysterical laughter.

“Ooogling? What kind of word is that!”

“It’s an ooogling kinda word, I’m just gonna grab my stuff from the car”.

“Stuff?”

Lucy glanced over her shoulder smiling at me.