Page 16 of Dangerous Refuge

I hear the belt drop, then feel his fingers at my entrance as he pulls out. He smears my juices around, mixing them with what drains out of me from him. "God, your pussy is so amazing, so tight still. I can't wait to stretch that thing so it can take my full length."

I shudder as I stand up. More of him drains out of me and I grimace at the mess. My legs are weak and wobbly. There is no box of tissues, no handkerchief. Nothing to wipe myself clean, except the clothing I want to put back on. His sex is incredible, but I don't feel comfortable being naked and alone with him yet.

“Do you have a tissue so I can clean myself?” I ask, feeling timid. The alcohol is starting to wane slightly. I want another drink. Sven seems to know already, and he pours me a glass. His dick, still mostly hard, stands up proud like a peacock. He’s not ashamed to be naked in front of me, but my arms across my chest make me feel more comfortable.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the glass into my hand. I take it, drinking it down eagerly as he walks across the room. He picks up his slacks and boxers, then something else. He dresses as I finish the drink then set my glass on the desk behind me. As he returns to me, he dangles my panties from one finger.

“I need to wipe myself clean. Your cum is on my leg.”

“Nah…I like it that way.” Sven offers a sinister grin as he wads my panties up and reaches between my legs. It’s shocking to me that he’s so bold, and I have no time to react as he starts shoving the lacy material inside of me. I plant both hands firmly on the desk and lock eyes with him until the material is gone, and his fingers are teasing my clit. “That should stimy the flow,” he says, winking.

I am so turned on by him again that I know I could come again right now if he wanted to fuck me again. But I bite my tongue. This arrangement with him will be mutually beneficial, even if I get more out of the deal than him. I take a deep breath and he backs away, taking my glass to fill it again.

I’m tired, ready to lie down, but I have no clue where my bed is—or his bed. It appears I will be sleeping with him. The butler took my bag when I wasn’t looking, and I don’t know if anyone is around to show me to my room, so I hover near his desk, waiting for him to fill my drink. He does, then returns to my side with what I know will be the drink that has me passing out.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

“For the orgasms or the alcohol?”

Sven is a puzzle to me. I’m not sure how to take his comments sometimes. I want to think he is noble and good, but there is a mystery about him that makes me think he is harboring some dark secret, maybe worse than Paul.

“For both,” I say, and I mean it.

He walks away from me, toward the sofa, and I turn and look at the books on the book shelves. Scattered amongst the books are pictures in frames, tchotchkes of all kinds, and old pieces of art. My eye catches on a particular photo of what appears to be Sven with an older man, his father maybe. I remember the face from the television. A news report indicating this man—whoever he is—was ailing and getting worse by the day. I can’t remember if the news report said why he is important enough to be noted on television, but I will never forget the face.

“This is your dad?” I ask, sipping the alcohol. I stand there staring at the photo. The more I study it the easier it is to see that the two men in the framed image are related. Same face, same eyes. I hear movement and then sense Sven standing behind me. His body heat radiates outward, kissing my bare skin.

“It is,” he says.

I glance downward and behind myself. His hand is inches from my skin. It tingles my nerves, making goosebumps appear. His proximity has me wanting him again. The brush of the material inside me just barely fluttering over my entrance is arousing. He seems to sense that I like him there too, moving closer to me.

“He seems like a good man,” I mutter absently, then reach for his hand. This man could make me come ten times and I would beg for more every time. I guide his hand to my mound, pressing his fingers against my clit, and he takes over, massaging my sensitive nub as he grinds his groin against me. He’s still slightly hard.

“Oh god…” I moan, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. The whiskey is in full control now. Sober Allie would never do this.

“You like that? You want to come again?” he asks, nibbling on my neck. It makes my nipples harden and stand erect.

“Shit, Sven… I want your dick in me.” I grab his wrist with one hand, feeling the whiskey slosh out of the cup onto my fingers in my other hand.

“Want me to lick you clean first? Taste that mess you made?” His breath is hot, making my groin ache again.

I don’t get to answer because we’re rudely interrupted. A bang at the front door, followed by the shuffling of footsteps has Sven pulling away and me reeling around to see a man covered in blood, eyes wide. He staggers into the room and Sven huffs out a sigh.

“Shit, boss, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” He collapses on the couch clutching his side.

I have no clue what to say or do. Sven goes into action, moving straight for his suit coat where he pulls out a handkerchief and tosses it at the man. “Hold it on the wound. I’ll call Manning.” Sven searches the floor where his clothing lay previously and picks up his phone. “Allie, out,” he orders.

“What but I’m naked,” I protest, covering my breasts as the bleeding man watches my every move.

“Get the fuck out,” he orders again, pointing at the door.

I scurry over and reach for my clothing, but the man has his giant bloody boot on my things. I whimper and look up at Sven, mortified that this stranger is seeing me drunk, naked, and dripping with another man’s cum.

“Out!” he screams and feeling tears welling up, I rush into the hallway. It’s dark, and I’m scared. If Rico comes out and sees me naked, I will have no way to explain what’s going on. I shrink back against the wall, hearing Sven’s baritone voice booming behind the door which he slams shut. I stand there for a few minutes, crying softly and wondering what hell I’ve just walked into of my own accord.

And a woman walks up, carrying a blanket. She wraps it around my shoulders and gestures for me to follow her, so I do.

“Here, dear, you come with me,” she coos, and I’m helpless without her. I follow her down a long dark hallway and she opens a door, flicking the lights on.

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