The Fool Ch. 09

"I think sometimes it just hits me. I think my Dad appearing tonight made it worse, you know. I've only seen him a few times in my life, and none of them recently. Well, not since the funeral anyway," Carrie said honestly. "We have never been a close family, not like yours."

"To tell you the truth, I thought one of Sin-bin's exes had given you grief tonight," she grinned. "I had a go at him about it, and he explained who Robyn was," she blushed guiltily. "Girls rule in his family, and he has always been a bit cavalier about the women he's dated."

"Is that right?" Carrie feigned interest in the girl talk this woman was offering. Sinclair had already told her all about his past relationships, the ones that mattered and the many that didn't.

"Well, no, it's not, but there were a few women who angled to be Mrs. Sinclair Mansvelt. Tricky move, their being the one to propose. I doubt he would have ever been brave enough. He is a bad loser and scared of rejection," she grinned.

"I think I've seen that," Carrie nodded. "He's not a good winner either," she lamented, "You should have seen him after I proposed, squealing like a girl and fluttering his ring around. I think he called your Dad within two minutes of accepting."

"Seriously?" she dropped her face into her hands. "I'm so embarrassed for him. And you're still going to marry him after that?"

"Well, I did do the whole down on one knee bit, so I probably deserved a little bit of squealing," Carrie admitted with a soft laugh. "I guess I should thank you and your sisters for teaching him that women can wear the pants in a relationship just as easily as men."

"If anything, I expected him to end up with a docile little starlet who would have doted on him and never argued with him after growing up with us all picking on him," she shrugged. "You don't exactly seem like the meek and mild type."

"She's putty in my hands," Sinclair announced, walking back into the room with his father.

"It's a burden we both bear. Women are helpless against the Mansvelt charm, unless, of course, their name is also Mansvelt," he winked at his daughter. "You find me almost as irresistible as my son, don't you, Carrington?" he asked with a perfectly straight face.

"Even more so, if you pour me a glass of that wine," Carrie agreed.

"Don't encourage them, Carrie, it's hard enough to fit in this room with their oversized egos," Dylan rolled her eyes. The rest of the family started to join them, starting with Dylan's husband, who had come looking for her, and Carrie once again found her space crowded by the babble of too many voices at once in the relaxed and happy atmosphere.

"I don't suppose you think this dress would look better lying on our bedroom floor?" she murmured softly in Sinclair's ear as soon as she finished her wine.

"Sorry all, I just had an offer I can't refuse," Sinclair stood and picked Carrie up in a fireman's hold, balancing precariously over his shoulder as he strode out of the room. Carrie blushed as jeers about cavemen followed them up the stairs.

"Sinclair, put me down!" she squealed, as he continued into their suite of rooms, closing the door before finally lowering her to her feet and kissing her deeply.

"Everything okay?" he asked with concern. "That was a bit of a curveball they threw you tonight."

"Yeah," she kissed him, murmuring softly into his neck. "I think it might have played straight into my hands in the end. I had a moment with Jordan, but I'd rather talk about getting out of this dress right now," she purred into his ear.

"A moment with Jordan?" Sinclair growled out a whispered accusation. He tried and failed to fight down the jealousy he felt at seeing her be affectionate toward her adoptive brother, even in a sisterly way, now that he knew what her family planned for the two of them.

"Yes, a moment," she took half a step back looking at him curiously. "This is what we planned, right?"

"It doesn't mean I, or, more to the point, you, have to be happy about it," Sinclair said darkly.

"You can't possibly be jealous of a moment? A moment we wanted to happen that couldn't have gone any better!" she hissed, torn between being thrilled that he would act jealous and being angry that he obviously didn't trust her if he thought it meant anything but a means to further their plan.

"I don't have a jealous bone in my body," he announced, as if it were a well-known fact. Realising he was on dangerous ground, he took her in his arms again and smiled. "Besides, I have you right here, while he has gone home alone, yet again."

"You're acting like you don't trust me!" she accused, pushing against his chest. "Why do you care about a moment that we couldn't have planned any better? We need to build that bridge again and get him to trust me the way he used to. You know we need him, and I have to do this. I need to convince him that I want and need him in my life."

"As long as you don't convince yourself," he tried to say it light-heartedly, but the conversation had already turned sour, and she wasn't about to allow him to brush it off.

"Seriously? You think that?" she pulled away from him, stalking to a chair and sitting on the edge. She shook her head as her delicate fingers reached down to take off her shoes, massaging her tired feet. The thick waves of her hair tumbled down over her shoulder, framing her face and obscuring his view of her angry expression. Before she could even undo the first strap her to the high heels, he had stalked towards her, his own anger building, now fuelled by his fear that he could lose her.

Carrie looked up, startled. "I'm tired," she sighed, "I don't want to fight about..." but before she could finish the words he seized her upper arm and dragged her to her feet, whirling her around. She felt the hard wall as he slammed her against it, knocking away her breath more from surprise than actual hurt. Sinclair towered over her, his face close to hers. Her wrists were held in his hands, pinned next to her head against the wall.

"I said, I don't want to fight!" Carrie hissed at him, struggling against his hold, but before she could say anything else, or break his grip, he caught her lipstick stained lips in a fiery kiss. She began to relax and return his kiss before he pulled back and looked into her eyes.

"I don't want to fight either," he said softly, despite the grip he held her in, and kissed her hard and deep again. Sinclair pulled back finally. "I thought you wanted me to decorate the floor with this dress?" He gazed down the body he found irresistible sheathed in the sexy dress, making her squirm in his grip. "We both know you're mine. You're right, a moment means nothing when you belong to me." He yanked her hands higher, holding them securely in one large hand. The other began to trail down Carrie's neck, making her squirm, even though the effort didn't amount to much, as his body was pressed closer to hers.

His fingers followed the fabric's soft curve down to her cleavage, brushing ever so softly. The bodice of the dress was stretched tightly with her arms pinned above her, and the effect had her breasts straining against the low neckline. "Very nice," Sinclair murmured. His eyes sparkled in heated desire.

Carrie could only watch, her heart pounding furiously as his wide hand rested heavily on the pointed, pebble topped peak of one breast, kneading it through the soft material. Her breathing became heavier as she kept shifting in a half-hearted struggle, torn between trying to lessen the tightness in her arms being held above her head and trying to get the hand caressing her to do more.

Sinclair smirked seeing her begin to respond to his dominance. His hand disappeared into the low neckline, cupping her breasts and pulling away the silicone half-cups that adhered to her skin instead of a bra that would have marred the look of the dress. He dropped them to the floor beside her and went back to teasing the soft mounds of flesh through the material of her dress.

"Sinclair, stop!" Carrie finally found her voice and started to use it. The words came out a soft whine, and she blushed as his eyes lifted to hers.

"Are you sure?" he asked with a smirk, stepping back half a step. He could see the swell of her naked breasts and the pointed nipples begging for his attention, despite her words. "We belong together, Carrington. You are mine, just as I am yours. If I had a moment with someone you knew planned to blackmail me into marriage, would you be so cavalier about it?" He began to push the fabric from her shoulder, losing his hold on the arm that was fully sleeved.

Carrie considered his question as she lowered her arm, not fighting the removal of the material which pulled the dress down on the breasts below her bare shoulder. She would hate it, but she wasn't about to admit that to him, especially now that she had made it an issue between them.

Sinclair grinned and continued to slowly lower the material as she stood passively locked against the wall. Her chest heaved as his hands slowly teased and kneaded her flesh as each centimetre was exposed until the dress slipped off her hips to pool around her feet like a waterfall of sequins.

"Very sexy choice," he murmured, closing the gap between them again. His fingertips explored the small triangle of lace framed satin that covered her pussy and slipped under the barrier to begin teasing her properly.

Carrie stiffened, letting out a soft moan and closing her eyes. Sinclair knew exactly how to touch her to make her lose focus on anything but the sensations of pleasure that promised a slow climb to ecstasy.

"If the roles were reversed, would we be fighting now?" He posed the question as his fingers delved deeper into her slit with their soft stroking motions, teasing at her clit. "If I was so flippant about a moment with a woman who was forcing me to spend so much time with her, would we be here at all right now?"

Carrie looked up at him in surprise. Since his accident and their attempts to handle what was happening to and around them, he had never once voiced his opposition to her going along with what Jordan proposed as a way for her to prove her loyalty to him and the family. Rather, he had encouraged her to go along with it while they worked out a foolproof plan of their own to extricate her from the family. When he put it in terms of the roles being reversed, she knew she wouldn't be as forgiving of his actions as he was of hers.

"Please, Sinclair," she murmured, blushing deeply with guilt and embarrassment.

"Please, what?" he asked, the smirk that annoyed her so much still playing over his face. The finger stroked faster, and Carrie tried again to yank her wrists from the hold he had regained on both of them above her head. "Please, stop? Please, keep going? Please, what, Carrington?"

"Please, don't stop!" she breathed in a long purr as he sank two fingers into her. Satisfied, he began to finger fuck her slowly. He captured her lips, again swallowing her purring moan as they kissed. She was panting in need, nearly grinding herself against him for more pressure, which he gave sparingly, keeping her on edge and needing more from him. He watched her carefully, and, as she began to crest the climb of her climax, he pulled his fingers out, making her groan loudly. She tried to rub her legs together, to try to finish the crest of the wave of pleasure she rode, but his knee roughly separated her thighs.

"That's not going to work tonight!" he growled. "Hold still," Sinclair warned, as he went back to work. With a quick yank, he sent Carrie's panties down her smooth legs and around her ankles. He adjusted his hold on her wrists, switching them to the other hand. He removed his tie, pulling it free with a long sibilant hiss. He whirled Carrie around so she was facing the wall. He dragged her arms behind her back and lashed her wrists together.

Carrie barely struggled against his dominance. She was so filled with the need for that final crescendo that her body had begun a soft humming tremble that travelled through her, heightening the feel of his control and her need for it at that moment. He was strong, strong enough to challenge her and push her beyond her comfort zone. Very few men had ever claimed dominion over her body, and she had made each one fight for the privilege, including the man who now bound her hands behind her back. The difference now was that she trusted him, even loved him.

Placing a hand between her shoulder blades, he pushed her further into the wall so her face was forced to the side. "You belong to me and me alone. Don't even think about forgetting that, even for an instant!" Her eyes widened, never had he ever been so vehement about his claim on her. Carrie struggled against him once again; worried about the way he had said it. Did he really think she could be tempted by Jordan and her family's machinations? She considered fighting back harder, but he shoved her further, keeping her still and making her realise that fighting back now was not an option. She cried out in surprise more than pain, and he answered by spanking her bare ass hard.

The sting made her tense. "Sinclair..." she whispered, trying to gauge just how angry he was with her for blowing off the moment and his concerns. Her eyes clamped shut in surprise as he returned his fingers to her pussy, ramming two into her, again cutting off her words.

Sinclair began to build her up again, to the point that Carrie was moaning softly in rhythm to his thrusts. Finally, she felt the tell-tale tendrils spread out from her pussy and belly to the rest of her body. Sinclair had been watching her carefully, however, and realised what was happening. Once again, he pulled away.

Carrie cried out in frustration, having been denied release twice. Her body was raging, and there was nothing she could do in the position he held her in, she wanted to fight now, to turn on him and make him work for every inch of flesh he dared to touch. She pulled at her arms and kicked back at him. feeling the hand press into the middle of her back keeping her pinned forcefully against the wall.

Carrie heard a zipper lower and felt the smooth texture of Sinclair's pants as they tickled down the back of her legs, she knew precisely when they hit the floor, and he stepped out of them. Sinclair pulled her arms back and up, making her wince as he controlled her body in a half turn to face him again and almost slam her back into the wall, her hands uncomfortably trapped behind her in the small of her back. His thick cock pressed against her stomach, showing her what she wanted. His hands reached under her ass and lifted her, keeping her back pressed against the wall. He held her there.

"Beg for it!" he growled through clenched teeth, as if holding himself back at this point. "Beg me for what you want and need! Admit that I am the one who can give you all that you need and beg for it!"

"No," she said breathlessly. This wasn't about her need, she realised, while admitting she did need and want him. This was all about his need for her and her reassurance that she was his as much as he was hers.

He gave a low aggressive rumbling growl, lowering her slightly so that the head of his cock brushed over her pussy. Carrie moaned, squirming high in his arms. She shook, but it wasn't until he lowered his mouth to her exposed breast that she caved in.

"Please!" she gasped. "I need you! I want you! I'm yours, all yours!" She refrained from telling him he had nothing to prove to her or himself any longer.

He groaned loudly, lowering her onto his cock slowly.

"Yours!" She panted, feeling him enter her and pull her hips to meet his, filling her with one final thrust. Carrie yelped with a mix of pain and the intense pleasure her heightened arousal afforded her. Her arms were pinned to the wall behind her back, and her thighs gripped his hips as he pounded into her, his large hands gripping her ass tightly.

He thrust into her hard and deep, forcing Carrie to move with him the best she could, caught between him and the wall. In no time at all she felt herself crest the pinnacle of her climax and come crashing down in the delicious release, intensified by the denial he had given her twice. Her body shook, and a long moan escaped her lips. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, catching the delightful sounds she made as he sped up his thrusts seeking his own release. He tilted his head back, and a low rumbling roar spread out into the room just as his legs threatened to buckle. He staggered back towards the bed.

Holding her close, he placed her on her feet and pulled her with him to the bed. He took a little time to free her hands, her struggles having made the knot tighten impossibly. Exhausted, and knowing the sun would rise sooner rather than later, they crawled into bed and lay in each other's arms. Carrie took a deep breath and turned her head up to face him.

"I'm here," she said softly. "I'm here because I want to be here. I chose to trust you and be here with you, despite all that should have kept a barrier between us. You have nothing to worry about or prove. I am here because..." she couldn't quite tell him that she loved him when they were in intimate places like this, even though she had admitted it to herself several weeks ago now that she believed he loved her in the same way she did love him.

"Because..." he prompted.

"Because this is where I belong," she smiled and snuggled into his side. "You're right, I wouldn't like it if the roles were reversed, and I am sorry I haven't been more understanding about that," her voice was laced with guilt. "I have to have a family lunch with them today, maybe we can talk about the moment later tonight?"

"Now that the engagement is official, I am family, so I assume I can come to lunch?" he murmured.

"You could drop me off and see what sort of reception we get," she suggested. "Jordan wanted to talk to me alone after it," she admitted.

"I bet he does," Sinclair's arms tightened around her.

"What's going on with you tonight?" Carrie leant up on an elbow to look at him.

"I feel like there's more to this ambush than just surprising you tonight. You haven't had contact with your father in years, except for the funeral, and then he shows up to this when you weren't even sure whether to send the invite at all, let alone know where to send it? Something just feels wrong, and you're in a vulnerable position with the hold they have over you," she could hear his mind working as he spoke. "Maybe they could come here for lunch?" He asked, knowing it wasn't a real option for her.

"Why don't we get a little sleep and talk about it tomorrow. You really shouldn't have been picking me up like that, you're not healed properly, and you still need to rest," she put off the argument that was brewing behind his words. "Please, Sin," she said quickly, feeling him drawing breath as if to start that argument now. "I'm too exhausted even to try to focus on why Grandmother and the sperm donor showed up tonight."

"Sleep," he said, stroking her hair. "We can talk about it before we go to lunch."

*****

"We haven't made any plans for the wedding as yet, after the size of the engagement party I think it might be easier to elope," Sinclair chuckled toward the end of lunch.

"In this day and age, why marry at all?" Grant, Jordan's boyfriend, shrugged.

"Sinclair's pretty traditional about family, he wants children of his own, and, for that, he claims to need a wife," Carrie said with a small smile at Sinclair.

She wasn't sure what to make of Grant, or why Jordan had brought him to the lunch today and not to the party last night. Though she had seen him before she hadn't met him properly, or realised how much older than Jordan he was, they could pass for father and son almost. She and Jordan had kept their intimate relationships separate from their home life and the secrecy of their roles in Robyn's plan. She had been under the impression this lunch was family only. She had felt she was doing the wrong thing bringing Sinclair, but he couldn't be dissuaded, so she had texted Jordan to let him know. Maybe he had invited Grant in retaliation.