The Sweet Taste of Innocence Ch. 08

"Do we really have to do this this weekend, Alex?" Emma had propped herself thoughtfully up on one elbow against her pillow as she brushed Alex's hair out of his face. His eyes were bleary as he'd been trying to sleep for the past half an hour, but Emma was so awake and scared, she just kept talking.

For the fifth time, he sighed and said, "Yes, Emma, we do." He listened to her sigh in response and flop down onto her pillow. Waiting for her to be lost in thought again, he rolled and shifted so he was up on an elbow with one arm thrown over her, and a fingertip tracing the delicate curve of her right breast. "Why so scared, Beautiful?"

Searching for words, Emma realized she wasn't sure exactly why. Something nagged at the back of her mind, but she couldn't put her finger on just what it was. The only reasonable answer she could come up with, which seemed very near the shadow cloaked truth, was that Michael scared her. He put a rigid fear in her that she had never known.

"Forget I said anything," she mumbled, pulling the sheets up to her chin and rolling over. Confused, Alex curled up against her back and stroked her hair until she fell asleep. Dark, creeping images slunk into her dreams as she feebly fought to sleep.

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Lights flashed everywhere. Smoke curled up from unseen machines, creating an eerie, muted flush of illumination in the room. Emma danced among the throng of people, feeling, surprisingly in her element. Being allowed to hide behind her mask was a help. Alex had helped her find one that transformed her into a hummingbird; the emerald of all birds. She flitted through the crowd, happy and comfortable in her anonymity among others of unknown origin.

Out of nowhere, a form materialized behind her. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against a masculine physique. Without missing a beat, she swayed her hips to the music, grinding and dancing against him. This was natural. This was how she had met Alex. This was what her body knew. The pulsing of the music and their bodies hypnotized her as his hands slid up her thighs, dragging up her skirt. Trying to break away, she felt his grip tighten. She opened her mouth to cry out, but he claimed her lips with a passionate kiss, leaving her breathless. Amid the rocking wave of people, he succeeded in lifting her skirt to her waist and traced her thin panties with a probing finger.

Closing her eyes, Emma tried to ignore the pulsing within her while focusing on the rhythm without. His finger expertly circled to the junction of her thighs, hitching his thumb into the elastic of the thin strip of fabric. Before she could protest, he had ripped them from her, exposing her to the crowd. No one seemed to notice and then his fingers were inside her. She struggled and fought but her body responded in a way she hated it for. Her muscles tightened and just before her climax seized her, she looked up, directly into the eyes of Michael Sanchez.

Emma sat bolt upright in bed, screaming. Her body still shuddered with the end of her orgasm and her hair was matted with sweat. Alex had jolted to wakefulness with her screaming. His arm snaked around her, pulling her into him protectively as she drew her knees up to her chest as if that would ward off the inevitable meeting. While she knew it was merely a nightmare, she also knew it held truth and meaning behind it.

Alex rubbed her back trying to calm her and she quickly dozed off into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning as flashes from the dream continued to haunt her. There would be no rest until after that cursed party and even then, who knew? Michael was Alex's best friend AND boss. Would they be able to part ways so easily? Emma thought not, but a bigger part of her clutched the hope and clung to the possibilities.

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Charles stood back, once again admiring his handiwork as Emma turned slowly on her stool to look at him. Her wispy hair had been whisked into a lopsided cascade of curls tucked neatly behind her right ear and seemingly held in place by a large, purple hibiscus flower. Her grandmother's pearls hung again from her ears and throat settling perfectly against her pale skin which seemed to glitter in the soft, muted light of her dressing table. Her brilliant green eyes peered up from dark, thick lashes as she blushed, looking for her best friend's approval. He gasped and grabbed her shoulders with excitement trying desperately not to disturb her dress which hung almost whisper light from her shoulders. The green material swished around her as if it held a secret and vowed to protect it. Her silver heels clicked across the floor as she strut about playfully.

"Do you really think this will work?" she asked Charles who had fallen to the stool she had vacated in sheer awe. He could only nod his response. Emma glanced at herself in the mirror, and grabbed her hummingbird mask from the corner of it, slipping it on easily. At least the nightmare had given her a good costume idea. Her fingers caressed the material one more time as she turned to her apartment door opening. Alex strode in confidently, but faltered, tripping slightly when he saw her.

"Damn, Emma," he breathed. She sashayed over to him, her heart racing as she did, but her lightly colored lips smiling brightly, almost seductively.

"You approve?" was all she said. She heard him gulp and wrapped her arms around his neck as she reached up to kiss him. "Then I guess I can survive the night knowing that you will still be waiting for me at the end of it." His arms snaked around her waist.

"I don't want Michael to touch you tonight but I don't know what to do to stop him," Alex whispered into her ear, his voice sounding almost panicked as he clutched her tightly. Emma felt crushed but understood his fear and held onto him as if her life was at stake.

After a moment, Alex held her out at arms' length. "Ready?"

Emma shook her head, but shrugged and the two made their way down to Alex's car.

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The ballroom glittered with the costumes and decorations of a hundred high profile guests, all hiding behind their masks. They danced side by side or in throbbing crowds, depending on the music. All kinds of mood setting sounds wafted over the horde like a tide, rising and falling with the waves of moving bodies. The scent of a well cooked meal and base desire permeated the grandeur of the occasion reminding all in attendance what this party really represented.

Overlooking the crowd, from a balcony that jutted out over the DJ at the back of the dance floor, Michael sat, Alex at his right hand, and Emma next to him. They watched the dancing, the grinding, and the outright sex that made a madhouse out of the base floor. Michael's hands were forming a steeple upon which rested the bridge of his nose, as he smiled ruefully out at his "collection" of the rich and powerful, all at his beck and call. Some from the power he held, others due to the blackmail. After all, isn't that the way power works? These men each had something he wanted and he had something they wanted. Maybe it wasn't the most straightforward way to go about things, but his family hadn't achieved their status on good looks alone.

All this was on Michael's mind as his attention flitted from the revelers below him to the beautiful little goddess beside him. Emma was talking in low tones with Alex who patted her hand comfortingly. Sickening; the way they carried on like high school lovers. What the young woman needed was a firm hand and a huge cock. She wouldn't be so shy if she were drug forcefully from her little cage. Michael smiled darkly as he began forming a plan.

"Alex," he said quietly, "Would you mind grabbing something from my office for me?" When Michael had given precise instructions for a small pile of papers that were more than likely already taken care of, he waited for Alex to leave before then sending his own date off for fresh drinks. He rose and gave instructions to his bodyguard before returning to his seat, only a few unhindered inches from Emma.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable now that it was just the two of them (and a seemingly unresponsive bodyguard), Emma watched Michael with a wary eye. She couldn't help noticing his attention no longer wavered to the dance floor before them. She felt heat coming into her cheeks. "Wonderful party, Mr. Sanchez," she commented meekly.

"It's Michael, Emma," he corrected. "I know it's not the party that brought you here." His dark eyes bored into her own and she shrank back a little from the look in those obviously sex-craved orbs. "I know you desire me as much as I do you. I felt it that first day in the elevator, I felt it that day in my office, and I feel it now."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Michael," Emma could feel her courage slipping away as he leaned in closer to her. "I-I'm only here by invitation, and so as not to be rude to Alex. He's done so much for me, I-I'd hate to..."

Her sentence was cut short as Michael, who had risen and now stood in front of her, swooped in swiftly for a deep, commanding kiss. Her protests were muted by his strong jaw against hers and though she fought against it, he easily lifted her from her seat. The music was thumping away in the rhythm of some modern pop song. She pounded her feeble fists against his broad shoulders but quickly felt how this only spurred him on. She gasped and squirmed when she felt a breeze against her thighs and then her hips as he hiked up her skirt, exposing the string of her white thong.

"What do we have here?" he speculated. Emma felt horror wash over her as she heard the music die and the crowd below went quiet, save a few hushed murmers. It was then she realized his voice had become amplified. She froze when she noticed the tiny headset in his left ear. He had a microphone set on hand. She vaguely recalled him using it to announce the opening of the night's festivities. Now, he was using it to draw attention to the two of them up on the balcony. Emma could barely see around him, but she felt all eyes on her as he turned them around and flipped her body around to show her off to the crowd.

"Seems Mother Nature has graced us with a little bird of Paradise. Shall we see just how lovely Paradise may be?" A cheer rose from the crowd. Even the dancers, up on their pedestals were goading more of a reaction from the crowd as they jumped up, their naked breasts bouncing with the excitement. He turned down the headset and leaned in to whisper into Emma's ear. "The crowd has spoken."

Emma felt his hand roam down her back, pausing at the top of her zipper. Trying one last time to break away, she felt his firm grip on her arm and knew she would really hurt herself and Alex if she did not oblige. His fingers worked her zipper down slowly, teasing her skin with the vibrations of its teeth opening. She felt the single strap slide off her shoulder as a single tear ran from the corner of her eye, down her cheek to her chin and drop onto her pale breast, which was quick to spring from its prison within the gown. The fabric slid down her form without the slightest catch, leaving her standing there in nothing but her heels, jewelry, and panties. Michael promptly slid those down as well. The crowd went wild, cheering their leader as he ran a hand around to Emma's front, gently cupping her left breast. She inhaled sharply as he massaged it gently.

"You like that, don't you?" he mused. "How about this?" He gave the sensitive, pale orb a firm, almost violent squeeze and Emma cried out in pain, gripping the railing of the balcony. The crowd screamed their approval and Michael smiled down at them, gripping the hair that Charles had so neatly gathered behind her ear. Using that as a leash of sorts, he directed her to face his seat, keeping her bent over, exposing her round little rear end and clean shaven pussy to the crowd. Emma whimpered a little as she felt his hand press firmly against her ass, rubbing it gently. She jumped a little at the sting of his hand against her sensitive skin as he spanked once, twice, three times before rubbing gently again.

A pounding at the door caught both their attention. Michael pulled Emma up against him. She felt him expertly undo his belt and then his pants as he freed his fully erect cock. Emma winced as she felt it pressing expectantly into her backside. He flipped her to the crowd, who cheered again at the view of her breasts and pussy.

"It's time," Michael announced over the loudspeaker. The pounding on the door became more frantic. Emma tried to call to whoever was on the other side, but before she could, Michael took command. He had her bent over and was buried deep inside her before she had time to register his hands had been on her. She cried out in protest, but this was only the beginning. He quickly gained encouragement from her cries of objection and as the door was broken open, he had just picked up his rhythm, pounding against her body with fervor.

Despite her greatest objections, Emma's body quickly responded to the manliness that was possessing her. In front of the whole crowd, she could feel her core squeezing and milking his cock, begging him to keep going even as her mouth demonstrated the opposite desire. She barely registered that the intruder to the balcony was Alex until the little bubble Michael had forced her into was violently ruptured and his cocked ripped from her body. She collapsed to the floor as what had just happened sank in. She let out a screech as she saw Michael shove Alex toward the edge of the balcony. Catching himself just in time, Alex retreated to the back of the room. Michael began to call for his bodyguards when Emma was hit with inspiration.

Rising to her feet, albeit a little shakily, she fixed her tiny stature into a frame of strong defiance, the way she had always stood in front of people from whom she intended to get something. "Michael Sanchez," she called out. All activity faltered and stopped. The room was quiet again and slowly, red-faced, and beyond vexed, Michael turned to face her.

"What do you want, you little whore?" he demanded. A murmur of approval rippled through the observing crowd as his voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

Emma simply raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you think of me? If I'm not mistaken, at one point, you looked at me as if to worship me from behind the scenes." She took a step closer. Michael's hard stare flicked for an instant and then rearranged itself on his face. "You looked upon me as if I were above you. Is that why you felt you needed to degrade me? Is that why you felt a need to 'possess' me?"

She had quickly closed the space between them and before anyone could register what was happening, she gripped his testicles in a tight, vice-like hold. Her manicured fingernails dug into the sensitive flesh and Michael was quickly reduced to a squirming mass of whimpering man. He wished only to fall to his knees and hide his precious goods from further abuse, but doing so would cause severe damage. Emma smirked, giving another little squeeze, and pushing Michael back a bit.

"I think, Michael, YOU wanted to be 'possessed'." She let go and before he could regain balance and momentum, pushed him down to his knees. "So let's possess you, shall we?" He looked up at her, glaring, until she grabbed the hair at the back of his head and forced his head back. "Let's just pretend for a moment, I'm the dominant one here, shall we? Considering I hold most of the cards. Like you said, the crowd loves me." Emma turned to face the gathering, smiled ruefully and winked, blowing a kiss. A cheer erupted and she turned back to Michael. "Check mate, Darling. I win. Now, disperse the party, pay the girls, find them real jobs and homes, and leave this disgusting business behind you. Do you understand?" Michael nodded and Emma released him. Turning to gather her clothes from the floor, she heard him rise. She spun around just in time to see him fly at her. Without missing a beat, she grasped firmly at his balls again, digging her nails in just the right way to drop him into a writhing heap on the floor.

In a fog of fear and power now, Emma made her way to the door where she felt as though she might collapse. At the last second, she felt a gentle arm wrap around her in a familiar way she couldn't quite place. She turned and through the fog saw the face she'd been dying to see all night. Alex watched her with fear, worry, and best of all, love written plain as day across his face. He easily scooped her up in his strong arms and carried her away as the clueless staff began trying to assist their boss to his feet.

Wrapping Emma in his coat, Alex carried her out to a waiting car and directed the driver to her apartment. Completely exhausted, Emma didn't give even a single thought to how he had known they'd need to get away quickly. She nuzzled the amazing man at her side. She loved how he held her so protectively.

She knew in that moment that what she had told Charles all that time ago was true. She wanted a dominant man, one who knew who he was and what he wanted, and was willing to fight for it. Alex was that and more. He was caring, and gentle when the time called for it, and he saw her as a person. She wasn't just a prize for him to conquer and show off, but a real person to love and live with. A partner to face life with, and a woman to support him as his ambitions drove him.

Even though his career with Michael was probably shot, Emma was not worried. She knew that somehow they would figure out this huge mess and come out on top. There was no chance for it to work any other way. After all, he was her first, her present, and her last. And that was the way it had to be.