He was really asking me if I was still feeling "green" after being ferociously deep-throated for the last minutes. I understood him completely in all my tear-streaked, naked-skin-tingling glory. "I say yes please, my lord."
Within two seconds he had me on my back again and his cock in me, driving hard, fucking me wildly on the leather chaise in his study—into total, absolute oblivion.
Mine, not his.
I was definitely fucked into oblivion. I couldn't say where he was because he was the one doing the fucking. Even though he could be right there with me on the threshold of Oblivionland, I couldn't really know. Either way I didn't have to know. Or do anything other than take it from him. That was my role. And it was clear to me that Ivan had perfected his role. The sex was so glorious with him. It just worked between us, and it had even from our very first encounter in the storeroom at The National Gallery. Just as he'd said it would be. How did he know it would be this good? Being fucked by Ivan Everley was the most perfect sexual experience I'd ever known. For me, in all the ways he dominated me during sex, he was simply flawless.
I also loved the soft sounds he made as he let some of his hard-edged control go. My forced silence only heightening every growl and sigh and groan he uttered as he fucked me. And the words he spoke. The way he put his lips on me possessively, and held me in place, and checked in to make sure I was still with him throughout. "Would you like to come, kitten?" he asked roughly.
"Please, my lord, p-please," I sobbed out my answer in a whisper.
"Ahhhhh, I do love it when you beg. So pretty taking my cock without a sound. You're a fucking feast for my eyes, kitten. I'll make you come, but you still have to be quiet, okay?"
I nodded up at him, not trusting myself to even voice my answer at this point. He brought his hand down to find my clit and started working it over with talented fingers in tandem with his pounding cock triggering the magical spot on my body he managed to find every single time he touched me. I rode the wave of the massive orgasm which overtook my body as soon as he added his fingers into the mix. I allowed myself to blissfully crash into a wall of pleasure so powerful I couldn't possibly be whole again after it was over, it was earth shattering.
I barely held onto any awareness of what was happening with him as I came; able only to ride him out to its glorious conclusion. I did sense him getting bigger and harder inside me—how it was even possible I have no idea—right before he commanded me on a harsh rasp, "Open your eyes."
I opened them to the most erotic and carnally beautiful sight of Ivan in the throes of his own orgasm, eyes flared, jaw tightened to a knife-edged sharpness as his cock kicked and jerked inside me. But then, he was no longer filling me up anymore. He'd drawn back to kneel before me, his cock now gripped tightly in his hand. I felt the hot jets hit my body as he came all over my breasts. Targeted placement, of course. He was like a beautiful pagan god of ancient days. Well, he would have looked exactly so if he'd been naked. I was still a tiny bit pouty over the fact he'd kept all his clothes on this time.
As he worked out his cock over me, chest heaving and eyes burning downward, no doubt to view his conquest of me, I tried to sear this image of him into my memory, to keep it with me forever. I didn't want to forget how he looked to me right now in this one moment we'd shared. His handsome face flushed with satisfaction as he came down from the high, his cum marked onto my skin like a brand, the late afternoon sun filtering in around his wide shoulders from the window—
Wait. What in the ever-loving hell is that thing?
Something was hovering outside the large picture window framing Ivan's desk. A dark mechanical object darting up and down, and then side to side with what looked like a lens—oh my fucking God—the thing was a drone. And it was watching us.
I screamed.
Ivan's reaction was instant. He must have read my expression and figured it out because he was up and out the door in about two seconds after my forbidden scream. I could hear the pounding of his feet as he ran down the corridor and away.
I have no idea how I was lucid enough to move myself off the chaise and over to the door, but I did because I locked it again behind him. I then gathered up my clothes, shoving arms and legs into the appropriate openings on autopilot, my eyes on the window which now was thankfully drone-free. I was shaking as I dealt with dressing myself and wiping off what he'd left behind on my chest with tissues from a box on his desk. It was all freaking crazy, but I didn't waste time with the task at hand—first things first. Get myself un-naked and then deal with the situation.
The sight I witnessed happening outside as I got dressed from inside held my attention anyway. I couldn't have looked away in any case. It was a truly remarkable scene.
Ivan racing out of the house and over the grass, his bow drawn with an arrow already notched into place ready to fly. He tracked his target like a hunter, focused and deadly for the object that would meet his arrow. It was strange because I'd never seen him shoot before this moment, but I knew he wouldn't miss. The drone was much higher now, flying away from the house, but the instant he locked all of his finely-honed Olympic skill onto it, that drone was doomed. The arrow he released torpedoed straight for it as if it had a radar tracker, pierced the exterior cleanly, and then dropped the fucking thing to the ground like a stone.
I was witnessing another memory I'd keep and remember of Ivan Everley for as long as I lived. The pure artistry of this man shooting an arrow from his bow was something I didn't want to ever forget.
While Ivan was murdering the drone, more people appeared. Mr. Finnegan rushed out with two large greyhounds beside him, one gray and white and one black, and then Marjorie joined along with another tall man I didn't recognize who went over to retrieve the drone. They all gathered around Ivan and had a discussion of sorts. I saw Ivan turn toward the window and gesture something to Mr. Finnegan about me probably, before speaking to the big man who was most likely hired security for the estate. He gave one more glance in my direction before turning away to deal with the unpleasant task of investigating a serious breach of security at his private residence. He looked angry and worried if I had to guess. For a quick minute I thought about going outside as well but decided that wasn't a good idea. Not my place to involve myself in a situation already complicated enough without the added distraction of my presence. Also, the fact I was in no fit state to be seen by anyone right now. One look at me and everyone would know what I'd been doing. They might still anyway if images from the drone were recoverable. All Ivan had to do was button up his jeans, which he must've done on the way out while collecting his bow and arrow. I guess it was providence he'd kept his clothes on to fuck me after all.
I understood him a little more than I did before. A celebrity public figure of sorts living in a remote place stacked to the rafters with priceless paintings nobody should know about, with his privacy being invaded illegally by someone, and also dangerously in my opinion. He was a sitting cabinet minister so the government might be involved now. I felt badly for him. His reaction to me the first time I showed up to Donadea to surprise him made so much sense now. I wasn't thrilled about the possibility of being recorded having sex with him either. God. My sympathies were for Ivan of course, but I couldn't go to that sordid place again in my head. I wouldn't survive the second round of slut-shaming the media would eagerly give me. Hopefully, his destruction of the drone meant something good on that score. We'd have a discussion at some point, but I was confident he'd tell me the truth about our situation. For a guy requiring signed non-disclosure agreements to be around him, he was remarkably open and honest. I did trust him.