Create: A Cariad Romance Three Book Bundle (Cariad Collections) Read online

  Her breasts were inviting white mounds in the twilight, twinned in the huge window. Across the way people still moved about in the offices, and she could see one or two heads bent over their desks by the window, close enough for her to call out to them.

  Inside the Epsom Corporation power-house all she could hear was her own harsh breathing. With a low grunt Cedric Epsom scooped her breasts out of the bra and caressed them, flicking the berry-red nipples until they sang with excitement.

  Her reaction was to jerk her hips, opening herself against the rigid shape of his cock still tucked inside his trouser. Cedric Epsom examined her breasts as if he was choosing a cream cake and she started to squirm with tipsy embarrassment. He deftly unclipped her bra and there they were, her breasts bouncing brazen and bare into his face.

  Eloise rose up on her knees as if worshipping him, and gripped the back of the leather chair so they both rotated slightly and his face was forced between her breasts, his teeth nipping at one aching bud.

  Eloise arched her back, desire crawling through her as he bit and sucked. She glanced at her naked reflection in the glass, and saw that in the office opposite, the heads that had been bent over their desks must have noticed what was happening, because several faces were staring across the void. Her stomach contracted with exhilaration. She opened her arms, inviting those strangers to stare as this man nibbled at her breasts, running her tongue over her lips as they strained to get a better look.

  Now Cedric Epsom’s cock was pushing against her and she scrabbled with his zip, her legs shaking with the effort of keeping upright.

  As she opened his fly she stretched one foot to the floor and pushed the chair slightly so that it was sideways to the window. Now her voyeurs could see her taking out his cock, letting it stand upright on his stomach. She clamped her fingers round it, taking it prisoner, and aimed it at her cunt.

  Her pussy was yearning towards it, knots of desire unravelling with urgency, her cunt twitching to welcome and swallow his cock, the damp curls of her bush tangled with moisture as she hovered over him. Cool guy that he was, he wasn’t even breaking sweat as he bit at each stiff nipple.

  Glancing again at her watchers who had jumped up from their desks and were unashamedly crowding round to see through the opposite window, Eloise started to sink on to Cedric, all the urges in her overpowering her.

  ‘I can always tell,’ he groaned, muffled by her soft flesh. ‘A temptress under all that billowing cotton–’

  That did it. She pushed herself at him so that the rounded end of his knob slipped just inside, setting fire to all her sensitive parts. She held his shoulders as she rocked very slightly, keeping herself upright so the others could see, letting his knob tease her burning clit, go no further inside, just tickling the surface, using him like her own toy before lowering herself slowly onto him. The smooth surface of his cock was already slippery where she’d slicked it with her honey, and the starting gun was about to go off.

  She’d built up such a head of steam that she could come at any second if she wasn’t careful, but she didn’t want to make like an inexperienced virgin. One of the watchers across the way had binoculars, others were focussing their mobile phones, and she bit back a crazy giggle. She needed to keep them waiting, but she also desperately wanted to be fucked, have every last inch of Cedric Epsom buried inside her.

  He stopped biting her and rested his head back on the chair, so cool, watching her like he was listening to someone at a conference, and she ground down hard, determined to make that impassive face lose control, no more messing, and as his cock made contact with the burning nub of her clit she moaned loudly. The pulsating length of him fitted hard inside her, a hot beast filling her, impaling her so that she could spin on it.

  He tightened his grip on her hips as she slid right down to the base of his cock and they waited for the rhythm to begin.

  The bell in the lift dinged again. Someone coming, or going? Someone from inside, or out? Either way he didn’t budge. Either way she wanted to scream with impatient delight. She thought she detected some kind of movement behind her in the window, but her reflection refused to co-operate or care, licking its lips like a harlot for the benefit of her watchers as she started to slide up and down his cock, making it grow harder and longer, every inch of him grazing every screaming inch of her so that she could only rise up so far before slamming back down on him.

  ‘Hey, what’s the rush?’ He grabbed her hips to slow her down. He glanced at the workers watching them from the office opposite. He’d known all along. ‘Got all the time in the world, haven’t we?’

  He looked relaxed in the chair but he wasn’t slacking, far from it, because next thing he was ramming it up inside her as she thumped down to meet him and her moans rose to a crescendo.

  Rivulets of fire streaked through her as her breasts bounced frantically, you couldn’t miss them from halfway across the Thames, his calm eyes watching her as if she was a lap dancer and turning her on even more and then, as she curved and arched, failing to curb the inevitable, the climax breaking through her, his eyes glazed over, still trained on her as her body bucked and writhed over the top dog, on the top floor, watched by a crowd of horny City brokers, and his lips curled back into a splitting grin of pleasure and triumph as he threw her upwards with the force of his climax.

  They were clapping! She could almost hear the distant round of applause as he let her rest for a moment on his chest, her legs aching from being spread so wide, then he let her fall sideways as he packed away his subsiding cock and stood up briskly.

  Eloise slid back into the white leather chair, warm where he had been sitting, her leg hooked over the arm, swinging the chair round in circles, letting her audience see as she rubbed her aching pussy then sucked juices off her fingers, totally sated, totally debauched, totally amazed that she had pleasured this powerful guy, wondering if she was falling for him, wondering if he would come back for more

  Wondering what Jake would say.

  Chapter Three

  The interior of the enormous house in Richmond was all white, cream and blood-red, hopelessly elegant. Even the lilies in their tall vases were white, their stamens dusty red. Candles rested in faceted holders, waiting to be lit.

  And against this pale background was a dark woman standing at the top of the stairs in a jet black diaphanous halter neck dress.

  ‘You must be Eloise Stokes,’ the woman purred, taking a step down the stairs. ‘Welcome!’

  She was silhouetted by the light from the huge arched window behind her like a pop star coming on to the stage. The setting sun provided a strong back light, shafting straight through the voile fabric of her dress and rendering it see-through. Mrs Epsom’s incredibly slim thighs were slightly parted and flickering with impatient muscles as she rotated her foot in a black Laboutin sandal. As she lifted her leg to take a step down the stairs, the high-slit dress floated open at the top of her legs, briefly showing the corner, the curve, of one plump sex lip.

  ‘Stop!’ Eloise dropped her backdrop and lighting equipment on the floor in front of her and hoisted her favourite camera out of her bag.

  ‘Why, honey, what’s wrong?’ Mrs Epsom halted as instructed, one knee cocked in front of the other, her slim arms reaching to each banister. Her face was in shadow, but as she adjusted the exposure Eloise could see her subject’s large scarlet painted lips part slightly in surprise, showing perfect white teeth.

  She was, just as Cedric Epsom had said, like a luscious Morticia Addams.

  Eloise’s finger felt slippery on the shutter. She’d made sure she was out of the gallery that day, and away from Jake and his questions, but that meant she had been sweating on location before coming here, desperate to see Cedric again. Thank God the heat was finally fading.

  ‘Fuck. I’m sorry if that sounded rude – fuck, I shouldn’t have said fuck – but Mrs Epsom, please could you hold it there, because I think I’ve got my Morticia Addams shot!’

  Mrs Epsom laughe
d and shrugged one round, deeply tanned shoulder, looked over it, deep into Eloise’s lens, twisted this way and that like a proper catwalk model. Then she continued her smooth descent.

  ‘Darling, you’re a little early, but that’s not a problem. You can have me all to yourself. Just follow me round, and you can tell me where you want me.’

  The house was all old world grandeur, but without the fuss. There seemed to be nobody else around. There was almost total silence other than the distant roar of the aeroplanes coming in and out of Heathrow and some classical piano music wafting faintly from speakers hidden near the corniced ceilings.

  Getting into her stride, Eloise followed the woman from room to room, watching the way Mrs Epsom’s buttocks twitched under the black voile as she walked ahead. The way her neat bottom caught the material between her butt cheeks, then softly released it again.

  ‘So, Eloise, where do you want me?’

  Eloise paced the huge wood panelled drawing room and opened the French windows to let in what was left of the natural light.

  ‘Here. I’d like to try something fairly formal, classic, you know? Just your face and shoulders, Mrs Epsom, looking out from these shadows into the garden.’

  Mrs Epsom did as she was told and leaned dreamily in the doorway, resting her head on one upstretched arm. Eloise busied herself outside, setting up her tripod, making sure no direct sunlight fell on her subject. The light was perfect, and she started to shoot. Mrs Epsom kept her eyes focussed just past Eloise’s ear as if she was staring out to sea, her red lips parted, her brown limbs totally still.

  There was only the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed, making the silk shiver over her skin. And the sweat trickling down Eloise’s back.

  Cedric Epsom appeared through another doorway, barking into a mobile phone.

  ‘Christ, isn’t my wife gorgeous, Miss Stokes?’

  Eloise felt a blush suffusing her body at the sound of his deep voice. She kept the camera up in front of her face as Cedric flipped shut his phone and slipped his hand through the slit in his wife’s dress where it fell open across her thigh.

  ‘These Brazilian women are sex on a stick. Nothing like the chilly white Brits. You should feel how soft her skin is. How warm. Just up here, you know? Just where it meets and gets all damp, and divides into that lovely pussy.’

  ‘You’re embarrassing the poor girl, darling. She’s shaking.’

  ‘Just hold it like that.’

  Eloise grew hotter and stickier but she jammed the camera against her nose to keep shooting. Chilly white Brit. Was that some kind of coded message for her to keep clear? Discarded plaything? As she watched them through her viewfinder Cedric’s hand went right inside his wife’s dress. Mrs Epsom’s head fell back on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed, her lips parting wider. He wrinkled open the dress with his other hand, gathering the folds on her hip so as to expose her pussy. It wasn’t even Brazilianed. It was totally waxed.

  Eloise’s own pussy felt like it was going to cook inside her denim shorts. She had deliberately chosen a prettier, gauzier top today, to please Cedric, make him admire her again with those laser eyes. It was loose and floaty, but it was already sticking to her armpits as she remembered Cedric Epsom’s teeth biting her nipples the other day, his huge cock shafting her on that white leather chair, the City boys applauding.

  But it wasn’t going to happen again. She was a mere visitor, observer. Staff. He was the master of this house now, standing here proudly with his lovely wife, his hair slicked back, cool as ice in the dinner jacket yet stroking his wife’s gleaming pussy, running one finger slowly up and down the red crack peeping between the lips, the inner fire blazing briefly pink as he tickled it open to show the camera, before it closed softly shut again. Bastard.

  Mrs Epsom’s tongue mirrored his finger, flickering over her mouth.

  ‘I think we should leave it there? I can see you both want some privacy.’ Eloise hurriedly backed outside.

  ‘Why so coy, Miss Stokes? This is how we Epsoms always behave.’ Cedric stepped out onto the terrace, leaving his wife to gather the family together. He grabbed Eloise’s arm. ‘Your work in the gallery was extremely horny. Not to mention our little pas de deux in my office the other day. You’re a raging nympho under that mousy exterior, so don’t pretend otherwise. That’s why I hired you.’

  ‘I think we should forget all about that. It was totally unprofessional. Of both of us.’ Even though she still had a neat set of circular bruises to show for it.

  ‘But going off-piste like that so smooths the path to good business relations, don’t you think?’ He folded his arms and chuckled, regarding her as if she was a sulky child. ‘No need to get your wet little knickers in a twist just because I like to touch up my wife in front of you!’

  Eloise took in a sharp breath. This was a job, remember. He was the client. ‘My understanding was that this commission was for formal portraits. Not porn.’

  ‘Well, I’ve found, now you’re here, that touching her up in front of you and your camera is a turn on! Anyway, how can loving my beautiful wife be pornographic?’ Cedric lowered his voice. ‘But all right. I’ll pay you double what we agreed if you succeed in capturing our more, ah, erotic moments.’

  ‘So cute, isn’t she, with those stern glasses and all that wild gypsy unbrushed hair.’ Mrs Epsom floated in to the space between them and wound her arm round Eloise’s waist. ‘But I’d like to get my hands on you, sweetie. Straighten you out.’

  Her dress was still open, the silk shifting across her thighs, catching in her pussy crack, attracted by the wetness there. She led Eloise back into the drawing room.

  A girl and boy dressed like Goths were lounging on the sofa and another young man was leaning on the mantelpiece. The boys had Byronic long black hair, frock coats and foppish velvet bow ties. The girl was a delicate version of Wednesday Addams, wearing a tight black sheath dress which looked sprayed on to her. They were all so pale they were practically spectral.

  As her shutter started to whir, Eloise relaxed and dismissed Cedric’s outrageous suggestion as some kind of tease. This sitting was more like it. The family were perfect models. Not only did they have Alpine cheekbones that cast their own perfect shadows, they positioned themselves effortlessly in compositions with the luminous quality of a Singer Sargent painting, just as she intended. They were smiling or sombre to order, perfectly lit by the lowering sun and the gathering twilight, but it was still spookily like directing the Cullen family from the “Twilight” films.

  As soon as the shot was in the can their faces froze into expressions more glowering and surly than any vampire.

  The two boys were either very close in age or twins, she realised, and they were all, totally unlike the sultry mother, very pale skinned. When the session was over the daughter ran up the stairs without a word and whipped off her black wig to let silky blonde hair ripple down her back.

  Eloise smiled, just so pleased it was all over. ‘Well, they are absolute naturals, Mrs Epsom, silent or not.’

  ‘Call me Mimi, please. Now, will you stay for dinner? Cedric and I have another proposition for you.’ She paused halfway up the stairs. ‘Come with me, and I’ll find you something more glamorous to wear.’

  Eloise followed her heavy scent up the curving stone staircase and through some double doors at the end of the wide carpeted landing. This must be the Epsoms’ bedroom. She felt a twist of jealousy at the thought of the two of them humping amongst the silk and velvet cushions, but actually there was not a single male object anywhere in the room. It wasn’t a boudoir so much as an Aladdin’s cave. Draped over the bed, over the chairs, on the shelves, was a multi-coloured array of sensational underwear and designer dresses.

  Creamy satin knickers, midnight blue camisoles, burgundy bras with delicate straps, black basques, sheer pink stockings and see-through negligees, everything you could think of, were heaped in abundant piles around the room. A haughty mannequin posed in the window, dress
ed in a scarlet corset with suspenders and stockings to match, one plastic hand thrust brazenly between her legs and her chin tossed sideways.

  ‘Oh, some of my underwear designs,’ explained Mimi, trailing her hand through piles of lace. ‘Now, Cedric has decided he wants more from this commission. Almost like a home movie. We want you to follow the family round, especially the kids. Get them au naturel. Intimate moments. A kind of montage.’

  Up close Mimi had beautiful, velvety skin the colour of burnt toffee, and there was a light dusting of freckles over her throat, leading into the dark shadow between her breasts.

  Eloise pondered. ‘I don’t have time, unfortunately. They’ve all dispersed, and I thought they were all leaving home in a couple of days.’

  Mimi sat Eloise on a low window seat and handed her a glass of champagne. ‘That’s why we want you to stay until Sunday morning. We’ll be coming and going, and we want you to flit about like a little spook and capture all the chaos.’

  ‘I could stay, yes, though I half expected Mr Epsom to ask me himself.’ Eloise did a quick reckoning. The opportunity, the publicity, the fee, all too good to pass up for the sake of hurt pride. And it certainly wasn’t worth telling Mimi about her rutting bastard of a husband.

  ‘Oh, he acts the big man at work but I’m the boss around here, I assure you. He says he mentioned something to you earlier, when we were getting a bit frisky downstairs, but that you were embarrassed. So this extension of your commission was my idea. Give you a chance to get to know us.’

  Eloise laughed nervously. ‘OK. But forget I’m here. Like a shadow.’

  ‘Not a chance. With a cute body like yours? This is the first time Cedric’s allowed one of his beautiful protégées to cross the threshold.’ Mimi dumped an armful of clothes on the seat. ‘Consider yourself permitted to get in our faces, as the boys would say.’