Alizarin Passions Ch. 01

"I'm genuinely curious, how did you come to be married to a man like him?" Mr. Blackfeld asked/ She almost sputtered out the liquid she'd been abut to swallow until she managed to collect herself.

"Mr. Blackfeld... sir." She'd been hoping that he might just want to give her a quick fuck and then fall asleep. He was middle-aged and overweight, so sex shouldn't last that long. Or so she hoped. Maybe the luxuries he surrounded himself with and the rumors about him indicated that he was compensating for something. "I'm not sure why that should concern you. I thought you wanted something other than conversation."

"Call me Oskar, please. And who says I can't have both? Now, please, answer my question."

She looked away for a moment. She'd been in love. She'd just graduated from high school. She wanted to get out of her parents' house.

"Because I was young and stupid."

"You are young still. But wiser, I imagine."

She looked back at him, and he smirked, lifting his glass. "Your husband is not so quick to learn. You, on the other hand..."

"Someone had to grow up."

"Which is not easy, I know."

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Certainly." His tone was conversational, almost gentle.

"Why me? You like the finer things in life. I'm not..." She gestured to herself. She'd never considered herself particularly attractive, unless one liked the so-called country-grown look. She'd grown up among some poor people and a favorite thing for her father to say was 'Money doesn't grow on trees'. A man such as Mr. Blackfeld certainly had the power and position to surround himself with a harem to rival Hugh Hefner, regardless of his looks.

Why go after the wife of a debtor, unless he was bored of the women he had easy access to? Maybe he wanted sex with a married woman, or wanted to further humiliate Robert.

"Because I want you. Simple as that." His voice was just as easy and calm as before, yet there was an undeniable weight to them. He wanted her, so he would have her.

"And I am supposed to just succumb to your charms?"

He grinned at that. "That certainly would make things more enjoyable for both of us." He reached out for her free hand, and she let him take it. His palm was warm, and he ran his thumb across the back of her hand.

"I have wanted you since I first saw you, but the fact that you were married gave me pause. However, when this opportunity presented itself..." He shrugged and smiled faintly, sliding from the desk to stand behind her chair, her hand still in his.

"You said before that you were young and stupid. We all make mistakes, my dear." He squeezed her hand before he leaned down, and she felt his breath against her temple. "But let's not reminisce about the past. I hope that tonight will be as memorable for you as it shall be for me."

I am sure it will be, one way or another, she mused as his lips pressed against her temple.

"So, what are your dreams? What motivates you?" he asked as he stood back up, letting go of her hand and making a full circle around her chair, facing her again. He reached up to loosen his tie as he finished his drink in one final swig before setting it down on the desk.

"I... I don't know." She blinked. When she was a kid, she'd had the normal kid aspirations. A princess. An astronaut. A jockey, when she'd been six and in her horse-crazy phase. And so on. But then reality settled in, and she'd lost much of her ambitions. She simply wanted a comfortable home, a loving husband, and in due time, a family, and a job she could at least tolerate. Live the life of a proper Christian wife and mother and make Jesus happy and all that. "I mean, I don't want anything big or fancy. Just... a good, simple life. Or something like that, I don't know. I'm dealing with things one day at a time."

"No lofty aspirations?" he asked mildly.

"Certainly nowhere near as lofty as yours have been."

He chuckled softly. "Not everyone wants to, or can reach so high. But there is nothing wrong with that. There is a system of things, with people who lead and follow." He shrugged. "Or people who follow the beat of their own drummer."

"Mmm." She sipped the potent liquid, enjoying the slight distraction of the flavor and the burn. He asked no further questions, and simply watched her. Studying her, was more like it, and she felt the heat in her cheeks at his calm scrutiny. He leaned back against the heavy wooden desk, and undid the first button of his shirt, loosening his collar. His hands were thick, but not in a way that suggested idleness, and she recalled a story about how he'd beaten a man to death with his bare fists. There was no hard proof, but a rumor didn't start or persist like that for no apparent reason. Gold glistened from under the left cuff of his starched white shirt.

One didn't see watches much these days with smartphones being so ubiquitous, and this display of wealth evoked an old-school, professional charm. He wore no rings, which did him the grace of making him seem less of a Mob stereotype. His fingers crept down, undoing another button, though he showed no rush about it. She looked back up into his eyes.

"I will not hesitate to deal with your husband with a brutal hand, if I must. But you..." Though his expression did not change, his gaze seemed to soften. "I can certainly put my hand to better uses."

To hell with it, she thought, and finished the rest of her drink in a swig, wincing a bit as the heat seared past her tongue.

"Come here, and bend over the desk."

She rose from her seat, feeling the throbbing just above her ears. He lightly patted the desk at his side, and she looked down at him, nearly half a head taller than him even wearing just a pair of flats. He lifted his chin slightly, holding his gaze level with hers.

It took but three steps to close the distance between their bodies, and her hands came to rest on the polished surface, where she could faintly see her reflection in the dark wood.

Leah closed her eyes as he moved away from the desk to position himself behind her, and she felt his hands brush against the light, loose folds of her jacket before coming to rest on her hips.

His fingers curled, and she bit her lip as he bunched up the black velour, causing the material to slide up her legs, and he continued his work in a steady, methodical manner. Despite his intentions, he continued to show no hurry as he finally pushed the hem past her waist, revealing a pert rear end hugged with thin red satin and lace.

"You were expecting something special tonight, hmm?" he asked quietly, and she bit back a sigh of embarrassment. Who wouldn't, when their husband offered to take them out to dinner at one of the more upscale - and therefore, more expensive - restaurants in town? It was just two weeks to her twentieth birthday, and she figured that this had been an early gift. He'd been acting secretive as of late, and she wondered - way too optimistically as she'd just found out - if he'd gotten a promotion or some sort of bonus and he wanted to surprise her. And naturally, she'd gone and put on her best underwear, because if he wanted to celebrate, then she'd be a good wife and help him.

Surprise, surprise, motherfucker!

His fingers trailed along her ass before he cupped it, kneading as he explored. She remained perfectly still, keeping her eyes closed, as he touched her inner thighs before trailing up to her crotch, applying gentle pressure with his fingertips.

"I hope you're not too disappointed," he said dryly, and she opened her eyes, looking over her shoulder at him as she raised her eyebrow. He gently kneaded his fingers along the thin fabric that hugged her outer labia, his gaze locking on her own.

The pressure against her intimate parts, applied in a firm and knowing manner, had her clenching her fingers against the desk, and his smile widened slowly, short and even teeth coming into view.

"It's a rather nice view from back here," he said approvingly. "You have a nice ass, and good taste in underwear." A short silence was followed by an approving hum. "And soft skin."

Suddenly, she could not help but think of that line from Silence of the Lambs. 'It puts the lotion on its skin. It does as it is told'. Who knew, with all that Mr. Blackfeld was rumored to do, perhaps he did just that, as well.

His other hand reached out to caress her hip, palm languidly moving along her flesh. His hands were warm, and something that Leah had hoped would be a quick screw was turning into some kind of damn touchy-feely session.

"Thank you," she replied in a dry tone similar to his own. He snorted quietly at that before drawing his hand away from her crotch. He reached down to undo his belt, and she looked away before she could see his private bits. She wanted to get away from this experience as unscathed as possible.

She felt him pull her underwear down, blushing warmly as she felt the cloth peel away from her, leaving undeniable proof of her body's response to his touches. She felt the tip of something prod between her lips gently, sliding up and down, and it took a couple of seconds for her to realize it was a finger. Another one quickly joined the first, and she bit back a moan as he pushed forward, wiggling his digits against her clenching walls.

She felt her knees start to buckle as he firmly caressed a spot within her, and his other hand went back to her hip, holding her steady as he pressed in further, now up to the knuckles on his hands. Robert had finger-banged her a few times, but his hands had always been a bit cool, and he'd never taken his time like this.

A gasp was quickly muffled as she pressed her lips against a fist, feeling Mr. Blackfeld continue to apply that inexorable pressure that commanded a response from her body. He alternated between stroking her and wiggling his fingers, and she was certain that the dizziness she felt was more due to his ministrations than the alcohol she'd consumed.

A sudden hiss burst against her hand as he started to pump his fingers in and out, and she heard him chuckle softly.

"I was wondering if you were capable of making noises during sex."

She blushed as she recalled her own sessions with Robert. She didn't consider herself an especially loud person, but then, it wasn't as if her husband had given her anything to be overly enthused about.

The fingers resumed a slow pump for several thrusts, targeting her g-spot, and she let out a low sigh, pressing her forehead against the cool wood. Her insides tightened further, and she was aware of the slickness that coated Mr. Blackfeld's fingers as he toyed with her most intimate parts.

He pulled his fingers out and she tensed, feeling a hot ache within her loins, wishing that he'd go back to fingering her and finishing the job.

o0o

Oskar stared down at her as he brought his fingers to his lips, savoring the musk as he ran his tongue along his fingertips. The feel of her clenching around his fingers and the reactions that Leah had failed to completely mask bolstered his enthusiasm for her, and he positioned himself behind her, pushing her hips down a couple of inches to line her up with his aching manhood.

Without preamble, he pushed himself into her, feeling her stiffen before giving out a soft groan. Fuck, she was so hot and tight, and his fingers dug into her hips as he shifted his weight, sliding in deeper.

"What did you say?" he asked as he heard a mumble.

"Nothing," came the cautious whisper.

"It didn't sound like nothing."

"All I said was Oh my God."

"Am I to take that as a compliment?" he drawled as he pulled back a bit before pushing forward again. Given his size and stature, he knew that people developed assumptions about him.

"I... you're just thick. I'm not used to that, Mr. Blackfeld."

"No? Not even with a husband like yours?" he asked. He knew what sorts of assumptions were made about conventionally attractive men like Robert Donaldson.

"No." she said quietly, keeping her head down. He pulled back several inches before pushing forward again, and he was satisfied to feel her arch against him. At nearly eight inches in length, and a considerable thickness, some might say that God had given him this as a way of making up for his physical shortcomings.

He was not a religious man, and had stopped being so a long time ago. Still, it was nice having a cock that could surprise a lover, in a good way.

"Then I do sincerely hope that you enjoy yourself with me after having been so disappointed by another man... more than once, from the sounds of it."

Leah said nothing, and he started into a steady, firm pace, plunging himself again and again into the young wife that, despite her attempts to restrain herself, was showing undeniable signs of arousal. She reached across the desk to grip its edge, bracing herself against his thrusts and on occasion, making a gasping and mewling noise.

Sweat beaded on his brow, and he began to get lost in the ecstasy of lovemaking, welcoming the rush of endorphins that would give him all-too-fleeting bliss. Pulling back, he gave her a particularly vicious thrust which had her give out a sharp cry. He wanted to see her face, and not just hear her.

"Flip over," he ordered, pulling out for a moment so she could orient herself ad he tugged her panties off one leg, propping herself up on an elbow. One foot rested on the floor while he lifted her other leg, hooking it over his shoulder as he pushed back in. Her face was turned away shyly, but the crease of her brow and the twist of her lips painted a pretty picture of a woman struggling against her arousal.

"Leah," he panted, feeling himself come to a close. A bit sooner than he'd have liked, but it had been a while since he had sex and he had been fantasizing about Leah hard once he realized he had the opportunity to fuck her. Her other hand groped around a bit as she tried to get comfortable before she roughly grabbed the collar of his shirt, and he offered no protest as he continued to ride her.

A sharp mewl burst from her chest, and he leaned down, placing one thick hand on the desk as he thrust into her fiercely, burying his face against the side of her neck. The scent of sweat and shampoo greeted him, and he tasted salt where the blood pulsed under her throat. Her thighs quivered against him as she let out a softer mewl, grip on his shirt tightening so that he had less room to pull back.

He whispered her name when he climaxed, grinding his pelvis against her own before slowly pulling out halfway, feeling her let go of his shirt. A small whimper met his ears, and he gazed along her body from her just-fucked pussy to her face, which was partially covered by the hair that hung over it.

He caressed the leg still draped against him, placing kisses along the inside of her knee and thigh as he let her catch her breath. With his other hand, he trailed his fingers along her lower stomach under the fabric gathered there before going lower. Slowly pushing back in, he was rewarded with a short moan. He smiled faintly before looking down again, pulling himself out. She shuddered and clenched, so he pushed back in, watching his cock disappear within her as he did so.

"Do you like that inside of you?" he asked as he looked up at her face. She was silent for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Look at me," he instructed.

Again, silence for a moment before she responded. "Please, Mr. Blackfeld."

"If you have enjoyed what a man has done for you, the least you can do is look him in the eye."

Slowly, the head rose, offering him a better look at her features. A modest scattering of freckles danced along lightly-tanned skin. Her mostly-straight dark brown hair curled around her shoulders, offering auburn highlights under enough light. She chewed on her lower lip as she finally opened her light brown eyes, staring fixedly at his face.

"The blush of passion usually does for a woman more than makeup ever could," he mused as he reached out to touch her cheek, and she flinched slightly. To her credit, she caught herself, and did not pull away. His thumb slid along the ridge of her cheekbone before a finger trailed along her nose and lips. Her pulse was hot and steady under his fingertips as he trailed downward. Her eyes remained on his face, and he smiled faintly as he cupped a breast.

"Your husband does not realize what a lucky man he is," Oskar stated in a pondering tone. Her eyes widened slightly as she gave out an almost inaudible snort.

He ground himself against her one more time, feeling another clench before he finally pulled out.

"I imagine you would welcome a more comfortable surface than that," he said, eager for some comfort of his own. But then, no pain, no gain. At least some of the time.

"Yes," she said as she righted herself, setting both feet on the floor before tugging down her dress.

"There are bedrooms here in this establishment," he offered as he straightened himself up. "Allow me to extend an invitation to you to spend the night."

Instantly, he saw apprehension in her expression, and he shook his head. "You have my word as a gentleman that I offer you no harm. These rooms are kept for the comfort of myself or certain distinguished guests or peers, and are kept to high standards. Consider it a free night in a hotel room, if you will." Besides, he doubted she would be too eager to see her husband.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, frowning thoughtfully as she straightened her underwear, turning her back to him as she did so. No need for that, Oskar thought, but he refrained from saying anything. After all, he wanted her comfortable.

"Does it come with a television and a Jacuzzi?" she asked dryly.

"Yes, and an entertainment center and mini-bar. Would you like it?"

She blinked in surprise. "Sure, why not."

o0o

"You weren't kidding, this really is nice," Leah commented as she walked around the room. A sitting room with a big-screen television opened to a bedroom with the most comfortable bed she'd ever seen in real life, and there was a small kitchen area that opened onto what seemed like a rooftop balcony.

"As I have said before, I can be generous. And I am nothing if not a gentleman."

Nothing if not a gentleman? After what we just did, you're actually saying that? she thought incredulously. Wisely, she bit her tongue.

"Thank you. I do appreciate this... gesture." He could have made her do the walk of shame afterward, but apparently the humiliation of her husband ended here. "I'm free to go in the morning, right?"

"I make you very nervous, don't I?" he asked. She swallowed nervously.

"As well I should. But there really is no need to be that nervous. I have absolutely no intent of selling you into slavery or whatever else you might think I am capable of." He straightened his tie, a neat, restrained gesture that was a far cry to the almost brutal fucking he'd given her. She felt sore in a couple of areas, and knew she would have bruises on her legs from the wood.

But then, better bruised legs than broken ones? At least she wouldn't be having to take care of him. She was interrupted in her thoughts when Mr. Blackfeld approached her

He held out his hand, and Leah raised her eyebrow slightly before placing her own hand in his. To her surprise, he leaned his head down, pressing his lips lightly against her knuckles.

"Good night and sleep well," he said before letting go of her hand and leaving the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

She sat on the bed before taking her phone out of her purse, quickly checking the messages. There was one from Robert.

'Please text me when you can. Love you, babe.'

She stared at the screen for several moments before tossing it aside and going to the bathroom. As Mr. Blackfeld had promised, the bathtub was indeed Jacuzzi-style, and she thought of the modest tub-and-shower setup she had at the apartment she shared with her husband.