Passionate Obsession by D.M. Mortier

Chapter Twenty-One

Katia

I don’t know what I expect Mac to say when I finally confront him, but it certainly isn’t the complete absence of any communication that I am getting from him now. Six hours after Mac rescued Justin and his family, they were on a private jet to a Caribbean island to join Colt and Imani, and we were in another aircraft headed to a destination unknown. At least, it was unknown to me because my big-headed, secretive husband hasn’t said more than two words to me in hours.

Things had been moving so fast over the past few hours that I barely had enough time to breathe, much less time to question. After we had all eaten the delivered boxes of food - salads, grilled chicken and beef, cheesy pasta, and grilled vegetables, Mac and Justin had a brief closed-door meeting in the study, and then Mac sequestered himself in the study while Justin commandeered the phone in their assigned guest bedroom. Nakia and I had our hands full trying to sort through some shopping bags of clothes with various items for the boys and Jayla, tops and jeans for me and Nakia, and a few pieces for Mac and Justin. We had to sort through toiletries and the basic essentials that would last us for a few days.

At no time did Mac or Justin indicate that travel was imminent or that we would be parting ways within the next few hours. The guys told us nothing. And I know that Nakia was just as pissed as I when we were ushered into separate dark chauffeur-driven cars two hours after eating, only to arrive at an isolated airstrip with one gleaming sleek Gulfstream jet waiting with a pilot, crew, and a massive black helicopter.

Justin escorted his family toward the jet while Mac indicated that we follow him to the helicopter. Nakia and I looked at our men as though they’d lost their damn minds. Those two idiots were separating us without telling us anything about what was happening or allowing us to say goodbye.

“I gather that we are going to separate places. Are you even going to tell us where we’re going?” I asked Mac.

“No time.”

Yes, those were the only two words he graced me with. Nakia had even less luck with Justin, who grunted, kissed me on the cheek, shook Mac’s hand, and walked toward the jet with Jayla in his arms. Nakia hugged me close.

Our long talk before lunch today made me feel even more guilty for the danger that our existence had brought to her family. Nakia hadn’t said it, but I knew that she was terrified for her daughter and her difficult pregnancy. They already had to contend with the repeated attempts on Imani’s freedom, but Jayla had never been taken or harmed. This time had been too close. They shouldn’t have to be in danger because of us.

Mac and I needed to deal with these people, put the fear of God in them so that they wouldn’t dare go after our friends and their children again.

Watching them board the jet gave me an absolute resolve to bring an end to Dr. Forbes and Dr. Everette. If I had to snatch every bit of sense those two had before they backed off, I was prepared to do it. I needed to talk to Mac.

The noise from the helicopter seemed to get louder as we descended over an amazingly well-manicured lawn, a sculptured garden with various water features, which were spectacular from the air, a pool, tennis court, a large stable with a paddock of grazing horses, and several cottages set away from an impressive mansion.

I had always known that Mac had comfortable money over the years; however, I still was gobsmacked by this over-the-top wealth on display before me. When he escorted us into the mansion, nothing prepared me for the sheer opulence surrounding us. I could hardly take it all in as we were greeted by the butler and housekeeper, Calvin and Martha to my delight, dressed in formal attire and dripping with haughty British posture. Although I smiled at them, they remained stoically aloof.

Several other servants lined the long, spacious foyer. The boys’ eyes were wide and mouths slightly agape at the formality and cool precision of the servants. They all gave little bows to us as they were introduced as though we were royalty, which, after about the fifth time, had the boys giggling. I could only imagine what mischief they were thinking of to get a rise out of this lot.

Mac immediately disappeared somewhere with Calvin, leaving us with Martha to show us to our rooms. After several rebuffed attempts to get Martha to acknowledge us in the informal manner we used to have in the house in Florida, I gave up trying.

I watched with resigned acceptance as Martha led the boys into a large bedroom, which was almost three times the size of the room they left in Florida, with twin beds in the shapes of their favorite vehicles and enough toys to supply the inventory for a small toy store. The adjoining bathroom was definitely kid-friendly and was clearly designed for twin boys. I had to wonder how long ago Mac had been planning on bringing us here.

Two days ago, we were on a jet to another country. I was sure of that, so he had not planned on bringing us here then. But yet, the boys’ closet was filled with clothes and shoes that were in their size, and the beds were of the Transformer figures that the boys were currently fascinated with. I say currently because the boys changed interest in things too quickly for me to ever waste money on trying to give in to their whims. Mac had no such restraint.

The kind of wealth on display here was staggering. It left me feeling again as though I had no idea who Mac really was. There was no way a man of his age could have accumulated this kind of wealth as a soldier and agent, no matter how great he was at it. The feeling intensified as I saw the rest of the house.

The bedroom I was shown to was as decadent and opulent as I was beginning to expect. And it was decorated in my favorite muted earth tones of burnt sienna, oranges, mauve, blue grays and mossy greens. The massive giant-sized canopy bed, yes, giant because I had never seen a bed that size, had to have been custom made to contain Mac’s massive bulk.

The bedroom had big comfy-looking armchairs and a love seat, a retractable rock wall with a built-in large screen TV and other electronic monitors that were hidden unless called forward by a remote. The same remote controlled the drapes and various other retractable panels and trays that housed anything from a telephone, a small refrigerator stocked with bottled water and miniature beverages, laptop, or a tray of glasses and snacks. There were two dressing rooms with walk-in closets, his and hers, and large en suite bathrooms. There was an entire wall in the bedroom made of re-enforced glass that overlooked a green tropical garden with a large man-made waterfall. It was beyond decadent, and I immediately fell in love with it.

When Martha told us that we could call down and have food delivered to our rooms any time we liked—an all-day menu was made available to order from—the boys gave an unholy whoop-whoop screaming cheer along with their signature Michael Jackson moonwalk around the room. I have no idea what Mac planned, but if he thought that he could get the boys to leave this place anytime soon, he was crazy.

As soon as Martha left us, we decided to explore on our own. There were at least eight bedrooms on our floor. We were on the third floor with an attic above us, two floors and a basement below us. On the second floor, we found ten other guest bedrooms, a school room, and a library. On the first floor, we encountered the almost industrial-sized kitchen, but it was decorated with state-of-the-art equipment, custom cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless-steel appliances fit for any modern kitchen, just much more of it than in a normal house.

We walked through halls, living rooms, dining rooms, even a ballroom of cream, white, and ivory marble and stones lining the walls and floors. We saw priceless artwork and paintings, oak and dark wood dining tables, armoires, cabinets, interior doors, trimmings and moldings, and antique furnishing. The elegant pristine crystal chandelier in the massive ballroom made me appreciate why there was a staff of over twenty working inside the house. It had to take an army to keep this place clean.

And then we entered the basement. Okay, so Mac had better not ask us to leave now!

If the indoor swimming pool and the billiard and table tennis room weren’t enough, certainly the theatre room would have clinched it. The room was equipped with reclining bucket seats with cup and popcorn holders in the armrest, a massive wall-to-wall projection screen, and a candy and popcorn station. The boys immediately plopped their butts into seats and spent ten minutes arguing on a movie from the massive list of movies available from various streaming services on the Apple TV displayed on the screen.

I shook my head at the extravagance when I realized that the all-day menu was available here in the movie theatre room as well. The menu had typical tempting choices of pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers, nachos, and chicken tenders, which any kid would die for. It also had some healthy salads, vegetables, and fruit as well. With strict instructions given to the young staff who was assigned to serve them a specific candy and junk food quota, and vegetable and fruit must haves, I left the boys to their hours of mindless entertainment to go find Mac.

It took almost an hour, but finally I found Calvin, who then informed me in a cool British accent that the master would meet me in the dining room shortly for dinner. I took that to translate that Mac didn’t want me to know where he was in the house. Was that a test? Was he expecting me to astral project to him although I’d told him that I would never invade his privacy? Did he not trust me?

I returned to the basement entertainment room to find the boys entranced with Iron Man on the large screen.

“Dad and I are having dinner in a few minutes. Do you want to have dinner with us?”

“We already ordered pizza, Mama,” Colin told me without removing his gaze from the movie unfolding before him. He spoke in a hushed tone, clearly not wanting to miss a moment of the movie, even though he’d watched it more than five times already and could recite the lines of the movie word for word, action by action.

Just remembering what the boys did the last time they watched that movie had me shivering and sweating with anxiety. This place was almost a freakin’ mausoleum. They would destroy it within seconds.

I grabbed the remote and paused the movie, ensuring that they paid attention to every word that I said, that they were heard, understood, and adhered to.

“Mom!” they exclaimed in unison, horrified that I stopped their favorite movie.

“Now listen, you two little human tornadoes, don’t move your butts from these seats until this movie is over. Don’t re-enact any of the action. Don’t break anything. And for God’s sake, don’t break each other playing Iron Man versus Obadiah.”

“Ah, Mom!” they complained.

“Don’t mom me. If you move your butts an inch out of those seats, you won’t be allowed to come back in here for a month. Clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they mumbled, their sapphire gazes looking at me with little puppy dog dejection.

I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t dare. They were so damn cute. My mini-Macs. It was almost impossible to deny them anything. I turned away and hurried out of there before I caved, nodding at the young woman, Anita, who was hoovering in the background ready to take care of whatever the boys wanted. God, I hope they didn’t get spoiled.

I didn’t know if I had time to take a bath before dinner, but I took the time anyway and took a long hot shower. I even washed my hair. Yes, I was pissed at Mac for not communicating with me and didn’t have a problem letting him see my ire by being late.

As I walked into the bedroom with only a white silk robe over my damp body, the sight of Mac’s imposing figure stopped me in my tracks. I sucked in my breath as an almost painful throbbing shot like a bullet deep into my pelvis and my stomach. I swayed slightly from the impact. With only a white terry cotton robe on over his obviously naked frame, he looked as though he had just come out of the shower as well. He didn’t fight fair.

A tantalizing expanse of his naked chest covered by a light carpet of hair and sinewy corded muscle had me spellbound. I helplessly let my gaze trail down his tall, massive frame. Even his hairy legs and large, long feet had me fascinated. Yes, his damn feet, big, long, masculine, were so damn beautiful. The two-day growth of hair on his face made him seem even more dangerous and lethal to my senses. Any irritation I was feeling toward him from before was forgotten in the face of the intense ripple of desire that reverberated through me at the sight of his raw masculinity so close, so alluring.

“I trust you had a restful afternoon.” Mac’s deep voice washed over me, making me quiver anew. The pulsing in my core intensified, almost painful. I felt hot all over. The man wasn’t even touching me and I could barely form a coherent thought. I was disgusted with how pathetically susceptible I was to him.

“Where were you? Why did you leave us like that?” Okay, so I am redeeming myself a little, at least in my eyes. Two complete sentences? There’s hope for me yet.

“Let’s eat.” He moved slightly aside to show me the blanket on the floor behind him ladened with plates of various fruits and desserts, covered dishes with obvious hot fare, crystal glasses, fine cutlery in lily-white linen, and a bottle of red wine. Soft music was muted in the background. Sexy, romantic, definitely panty-dropping music. The song currently filtering through the room was Justin Timberlake’s “Not A Bad Thing.”

“What’s this?” I knew we were having dinner, but I didn’t understand why. It was music of love that I wasn’t sure was meant for me or just setting the ambiance. Why like this after ignoring me all afternoon? Why the cold treatment? Why here in the master bedroom?

“Sit, lass. I’ve instructed Anita to ensure the boys get their baths and then their bed. I need to tell you a few things and we can talk while we eat.” He sat down on the blanket and folded his powerful legs with an easy flexibility that I was jealous of.

I tumbled down to the thick carpet, in no way matching Mac’s grace and flexibility, but I was grateful for the extra cushion of my ass and thighs. The song had just reached its chorus of encouraging the lovers to fall in love. I didn’t need any help with that.

His blazing blue orbs told me that he noticed everything, my natural cushion, my gracelessness, and my absorption in the music. My body was helplessly swaying to it. Too late I noticed that the silk of my robe was now molded to my damp skin and my beaded nipples. I tried pulling the ends of my robe closer together, even though I knew that it would do nothing to hide my curves and obvious arousal. His gaze roamed over me in a sensual, visual caress that I was in no way immune to.

“Food first,” he muttered as though trying to convince himself to wait.

Yeah, I wanted food, but I wanted him more. I picked up a piece of fruit from the platter without looking away from him and brought it to my lips. I slowly bit into the succulent flesh, and the flavor of fresh, sweet strawberry burst onto my tongue. I slowly, provocatively chewed the fruit and licked the sweet juice from my lips.

Mac looked away from me, grimacing as though it hurt to watch. He poured wine into our glasses before sitting back lazily with the glass of wine to his lips. “It’s best if you eat your dinner while it’s hot.” He lifted the stainless-steel cover of the plate in front of me.

The savory scent and sight of roasted meat usually would have had me digging in, but I was pulsing like mad and needed him more than I needed my next breath. I took a sip of the wine before starting to move plates, glasses, cutlery, and the flower vase out of my path as I crawled slowly toward him.

Mac stopped my progress before I could touch him. He gave me a sexy, knowing smile. “You’re going to eat first. And I don’t mind feeding you,” he warned.

“Mac…” I was preparing to argue the point, but he used my pause to stuff a fork full of food into my mouth. The explosion of flavors distracted me momentarily. “I didn’t know English food could taste like this,” I mumbled around another fork full of food, followed by the wine glass to my lips. I dutifully took a sip.

Mac laughed and pushed another piece of meat between my lips before I could say anything else. “Knowing how much you love Greek food, I hired a Greek chef.”

“You hired a Greek chef?”

Another fork of food, a napkin to dab my lips, and then more wine. “Yes, I love your curves.” He gave me a wicked grin. “I thought that I’d better feed you well to ensure you keep them.”

“So, you’re trying to fatten me up?”

He laughed and kissed the skin between my neck and my shoulder as I munched on the succulent meat and vegetables he fed me. He started humming in his deep baritone the song that was filtered throughout the room. “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye. The tone of his voice filled my senses and seemed to just keep getting more and more poignant. And then he pressed his lips over the pulse at the base of my throat. His lips felt like a hot brand against my sensitive skin.

My inner thighs were soon saturated with my essence as I was overwhelmed with such searing heat. I took perverse pleasure in knowing that he would be able to sense my need.

“You have no patience,” he teased and forced another fork full of food into my mouth followed by a sip of wine. For the first time he spared a piece of meat and bit into it.

I thought I was losing my damn mind when even the sight of his white teeth sinking into the meat had me wanting those same teeth sinking into me. “Am I supposed to wait until you eat as well before I get to the main event?” I didn’t try to hide how disgruntled or, yes, impatient I was.

He chuckled. “The main event? What do you think is the main event?”

“Don’t play with me, Ronin.” I would have jumped on him already if I thought he’d let me overpower him.

“Ah, that name again.” He grinned as he flipped me to my back onto the blanket so fast he knocked my breath from my body. “It’s time for dessert,” he murmured, and I swear, every thought in my mind scattered.

To my delight, Mac was relentless in his ravenous enjoyment of the fruit and wine with my body serving as his plate and glass. There was no part of my body or surface of my skin that didn’t receive the initial chill of fruit and wine and then the heat of Mac’s skillful lips and tongue.

Nothing mattered. I was oblivious to everything around us. The food, the music, our surroundings, nothing else mattered but Mac. My world had narrowed to only him. He was the air that I breathed. Every touch. Every scent. Everything in that moment was centered on him. I begged. I pleaded.

It all fell on deaf ears. He was unyielding in his absolute enjoyment and determination to sip every trace of the wine from my body and eat every piece of fruit. Each time he sipped, licked, bit, or probed, his lips, his teeth, his tongue tormented me. He lowered his head between my thighs, and I was lost.

I’ve had oral before, and it was nothing like this. Mac was in a league all of his own. He knew what he was doing, knew where to touch, just the right pressure to use, when to suck, when to nibble, and God when he added his thick fingers into the fray… No words. I mewled and begged until my throat was sore, my voice coming out hoarse. I felt as if I was in a sexual abyss, where emotions were too strong, sensations were too profound. My entire body was overwhelmed by both. I cried out loud, then soft, and then loud again and again. Begging for him to end my torment.

With his forearm anchoring my knee, my body spread to accommodate his girth, he surged up into me. His thick veiny length stretched me and slammed unerringly onto a cluster of pulsing nerves. I was so primed, so desperate, I detonated on that first exquisite glide of his cock into my heat.

He drove into me again and again, riding me, his broad steel sliding erotically along my sensitive walls, piercing into me so deep, filling me in such raw, masculine determination that the taut muscles of his ass and back bunched and rippled with each powerful thrust. And God, when he gripped my breast in his large, rough palm, I screamed through a blistering orgasm, only to ignite into another when he suddenly changed tactic, stretching me onto the quilt-covered carpet, and then riding me gently, tenderly, as though I was the most precious treasure to him.

I exploded around him, my entire body wrecked with tremors in the aftermath.

He didn’t stop his maddening thrusts, didn’t relent, and this time drove into me, over and over again, hard and deep as if trying to fuse us as one. There was no part of me he didn’t reach. Sensations exploded inside of me that I had never felt before, passion so poignant, so intense, it felt as though every cell, every nerve ending in my body was disintegrating and I would never be put to rights again.

And still he wasn’t done with me yet. Somehow, he arranged me onto my hands and knees. There was no way that I got there on my own, and worse, there was no way that I could hold myself in that position. Mac was undeterred by my ragdoll, liquified body. He controlled me, he owned me.

“You’ve no idea how beautiful you are,” he murmured silkily, his words, his voice a caress against my sensitized skin. “No idea how sexy you are.” Smoothing my long hair from his path, he delivered reverent kisses up the middle of my spine. “So fucking sexy.”

I was in that sweet spot between comatose and barely conscious, and yet my body was responding to his rough palm on my hip, his teeth on the back of my neck, and his long granite cock sandwiched between the curvaceous cheeks of my ass. With his big, muscular frame draped over me, the man knew how to caress me and drive me crazy.

Gripping one of my breasts in a tight fist and sliding his other hand between my legs, he worried my taut clit and plucked at the hard tip of my breast. The potent, searing stimulation in triplicate was too much. I moaned and whimpered in nonsensical gibberish.

He turned my head and devoured my lips in a drugging kiss, effectively silencing me, but had me writhing and silently begging for his possession within seconds. With no warning, he drilled into my soaked core from behind, forcing every nerve ending in my body to electrify and violently spasm with stunning pleasure.

His grip tightened on my breast as his kiss deepened, becoming more carnal as he thrust into me with unrestrained lust. “You feel so damn good around my cock, mo grá” he growled.

I keened and shrieked, long and loud, reveling in his impressive length, so thick and hard, stroking in and out of me. It was pure passionate nirvana. My toes curled, my back arched, and every atom of my body exploded with molten, hot passion.

Before my body had even stopped trembling from its erotic high, he flipped me over. I smiled at that because I was no lightweight when I was this languid, liquified mass. I loved how he made me feel like such a delicate flower. Pulling my left leg to wrap high above his waist and his fist gripping my hair, he thrust heavily into me.

I keened loudly. What the hell? I didn’t realize that I had voiced it until his grip tightened in my hair and he growled down at me.

“Mine!Mo bhean! Mo chroí”

This man had decimated me and seemed intent on doing it again.

Pinning me with a fierce gaze, he stroked lazily in and out of me. I don’t know why this felt more intense, more intimate, but it did. He never released my gaze, his blue eyes blazing with such raw lust I felt compelled by him. My body bowed, and my nipples tightened to the point of pain as sensation so sweet, so incredible swirled through me like a tsunami.

I tried lifting my hips to make him go faster. He was unyielding, his slow, long, hard thrusts angled to abrade my aroused clit and stroke every inch of my throbbing inner walls with his bruising cock.

His blue gaze was liquid fire on mine, trapping me with its intensity. Communicating without words how much he was feeling for me, all his senses congruent with mine. We were in perfect harmony. Two halves of a coin.

“Never doubt that you are everything to me,” he husked out, maintaining slow tormenting thrusts in and out of me.

Those simple words sent my senses reeling.

“Coimeádaí mo chroí.” The thick guttural sound of his voice and the smoldering heat of his gaze conveyed the honest emotion in his words.

I had no defenses left. I was irrevocably, eternally, his, but I didn’t have the brain capacity to articulate that. I condensed it into three simple words. “I love you.” It was an admission from my overwrought soul. The darkening of his eyes, the strength in his thrusts, deeper, harder, and the final descent of his head as he devoured my lips sent me spiraling off the edge.

He curled his tongue around mine, trapping my scream as he sank deeply one last time, his cock thickening to an impossible mass before shooting his hot seed inside of me, triggering another blistering orgasm.

I was reduced to ash.

Yeah, I should have known that we wouldn’t get much talking done tonight. That should teach my horny ass a lesson. Let the man talk when he is volunteering to. Suck my teeth. Now, I can’t complain when he doesn’t tell me shit about what’s happening. I promise to do better tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.

I really hate when a perfectly reasonable expectation is shot to hell. No, I didn’t have the talk with Mac the next day, nor did I have it the day after that. Mac boarded a helicopter the morning after screwing my brains out, and two days later, I was still waiting for his response to my inadvertent declaration. It was only in the cold light of day that I remembered my impassioned cries of “I love you.” I think I could have handled it better if it was one slip of the tongue, but I found that once I said it, I couldn’t stop. And every time he took me to that special place after it was a helpless asseveration.

However, I didn’t dare think about that for fear of bawling like a baby. There was only so much unrequited emotion a girl could take. Instead, I focused on the boys as I always did, which had me worrying about what Mac intended doing about the scientists. So, I did what any person who can astral project, and whose husband hasn’t seen fit to confide in them, did. I went to eavesdrop on the scientists.