CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Obi walked up the four flights of the spiral staircase that led up to the room Adamma had insisted they hired for their rendezvous when he’d called her and demanded that he wanted to see her. He’d been surprised that she’d called him when he got her secretary on the line and told the young woman to tell her mistress to call him. He’d told her he wanted to see her, and she’d agreed, though she’d refused to come to their mansion or allow him to come to her house; she wanted somewhere impersonal. And so they’d agreed to meet at the Bee motel at the Lagos Island late that afternoon.
The entire place was spotlessly clean, though there was an empty look to it that gave the building an atmosphere of serenity. Circling the flight of stairs, he stopped and then stared for a minute at the mahogany door that led into the room where Adamma waited for him. He sniffed the air tentatively and her scent filled the air. It was a pleasant, sensuous smell that permeated his senses and made them reel, and his mind conjured up imaged of his wife lying on a bed, pandering to his every wish, his physical desires. He could hardly wait. He had missed her touch and her kisses so much; now, he was like a starving man who was about to be served the most sumptuous meal he’d ever tasted before.
He knocked on the door, and then he jerked the door open and walked into the room which was dimly-lit; even the curtains had been pulled shut. Surprisingly, the room was lavishly furnished, with flowers reclining in huge flowerpots, exotic wall paintings of men and women engaged in the sexual act; there was a thick rug on the floor, spanning the entire length and breadth of the room; the bed was huge, and the covers were thick, screened off with curtains that were suspended from the ceiling. Pink velvet curtains hung over the windows, cutting out the afternoon sun, and the room was cool as opposed to the smoldering heat of the afternoon sun. It was the perfect setting for a night of mind-blowing sex.
There was no sign of the object of his affections, but he knew that she was there; he had her heady feminine scent embedded within him. And then he saw her; she was lying on the bed, her face tilted at an angle so that she couldn’t see him though she presented him a view of her fine-boned profile.
She wore a thin, strapless gown that hugged the long length of her delectable body, accentuating her curves, the fullness of her breasts, and her glorious hair was spread on the bed. She looked lovely. She was so beautiful to him, but not because of the fact that she was the most beautiful woman around, but because of the fact that to him, she was. There was something about her that was dangerous to his senses, something that sent him over the edge with her. With her, he lacked the cool control that had been his hallmark with the fairer sex.
Adamma feasted her eyes on the wall clock, though all she was able to see in the line of her vision was her husband. His face filled her vision and she could almost swear that she could hear his rich, velvet voice; she could hear his strong laugh. And then she was able to sense his nearness, yet she refrained from turning around to look at him. She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t stare into the face and the eyes of the man she now wanted to think of killing; he’d haunt her forever.
For days she’d debated with herself, asking herself searching questions, procrastinating about something she’d already made up her mind to do, but finally she’d been able to make up her mind. She was freeing herself from the clutches of the man who treated her wrongly as if she did not deserve his love. But she really did love him, and it was a factor that she would never regret as long as she lived.
Slowly, she swiveled her face around to face him. Her feet bare, pink material hugging the long length of her body, she was a vision of mesmerizing beauty and perfection. She was aware of her power over the man who was staring at her with a look of unbridled desire on his face, and she couldn’t help smiling to herself. It had been said that the beauty of the body could be used as a big weapon_ how true that was.
She whispered, ‘So you came to me like I’d asked you to. However, I’d for you to satisfy my curiosity. Do you love me?’
‘I desire you more than anything I’ve ever desired in my whole life. You really are a very stunning woman to behold. You’re far from perfect, but you’re extremely wonderful.’
She looked at him, her eyes drinking in the sculpted features, his male handsomeness that always sent her heart thumping with desire whenever she looked at him. It frightened her that she could feel such loaded emotions and strong pull of desire for him in spite of the fact that he was arrogant. He was the super bastard of the screens, loved by every woman who had the eyes to look at that expanse of sleek muscle and aggressively defined face that had a lot of character.
Smiling invitingly, she beckoned to him to come to her; this was not the time for small talk. She pressed her lips to his in a kiss, and she savored the delicious sensation of the taste of his lips against hers. Her fingers reached for the buttons on his flannel shirt; she unbuttoned them even as she continued to kiss him, and then she slid the material off his shoulders and tossed it to the rug. Her fingers then slid up his chest in a gentle caress, and then her fingers slid down, resting on his belt.
He stopped her with a shake of his head, and then he tilted her chin up so she could look into his face. What he saw in her luminous eyes was burgeoning desire, and he sought her lips with his once more, his hands reaching out to her back so he could zip down the dark flimsy nothing thing she was wearing. He slid the offending material down to her waist, his breaths catching in his throat as her breasts swung free. Desire hammered at him as he feasted his eyes on her dark nipples which were already hardening with desire, and then his lips sought them and she rubbed against him, her gentle moans bringing his desire to a higher level.
Slowly, he stole the gown from her body slowly, reverently, and then he pulled her lace panties down so he could gain access to her womanly zone, and his eyes fell on the downward triangle that hid damp heat from his gaze. His fingers moved from her breasts, and then slid gently down, over her flat stomach, gliding lower to the triangle of dark hair that hid the real thing from his view. He moved up again, and he sucked in her left nipple into his mouth while his strong arms held her down. She writhed about as he continued to suck on the hard nipple, and felt herself go totally limp with heady waves of pleasure as his left hand moved up from her hips and began to circle her other breast.
His relentless torture of her swollen breast continued, and when she felt she would faint from the intensity of the pleasure that sizzled through her, he moved on lower with his hard, sure kisses. His lips dipped down to her navel, and then he swung his head lower to her waist. He touched one finger to her soft, feminine mound of heat that was the very essence of her, and she reared up as if she’d been pricked with a needle.
‘Stay down,’ he ordered, and there was a wicked glint in his eyes as his eyes fell on the triangle of hair that hid damp heat from his eyes. Setting himself to work, he bent forward, and his lips touched the hair. The unmistakable scent of her feminine heat went to his senses, and he felt himself getting even harder than he already was.
Adamma gasped and tears rushed to her eyes, but before she could recover, her back burrowed into the mattress as he thrust her legs up and his fingers stroked her organ. He rubbed his fingers against her and she cried out his name, her fingers savagely gripping the bedcovers. He continued rubbing his fingers on her wet womanhood, and she grew more damp, his fingers slowly and deliberately massaging her clitoris when he found it, sending waves of heady pleasure to rip through her body.
This was great torture that he was heaping on her most erogenous zone, and she did not want him to stop what he was doing. God, it had been so long since she last had him.
Seeing how turned on she was, Obi then slipped two fingers into her and began to move them in and out, pleasuring her with his fingers. He could see the tears that clouded her vision; he could hear the cries that emanated from her, and he continued to work on her, his fingers moving in and out as he pleasured her and she moaned and called his name, the sounds like a caress to his ears. He loved it when she called his name like this, with reckless abandon.
That was what he wanted her to be with him_ the wanton woman with no inhibitions at all, freed from her mask of coolness and friendly detachment.
Adamma’s hips were moving of their own volition, in tune with the movements of the fingers of the man she loved. She moved with his fingers, and then he withdrew them and then swooped down on her damp heat with his tongue. He was licking at her, sucking at her hungrily. He sucked on her as if he was licking ice cream, worshipping her with his tongue.
She had gripped his head tightly, her lips moaning out his name as he continued to torture her senses. However, she didn’t want to peak just yet, so she pulled his head free of her body and pushed him down on his back to the bed. But he rose to his feet and then pulled down his trousers, and then his white boxer shorts were eased down savagely from his hips, and his cock tumbled out. His body was hard and firm from physical exercises, and his cock was encircled by a nest of dark hair that started from his chest, narrowing down to his stomach, and then covering his pubic region. The huge cock stood erect, throbbing with a life of its own.
Ah, how she had missed that.
‘Oh, baby,’ Adamma whispered, her fingers reaching out to caress the organ. She got out of the bed and he followed her, and then she dropped to her knees, her fingers encircling the cock. She stroked him slowly, and her arm spanked him hard on the buttocks. Before he could react, she took him in her mouth, her tongue licking at the head of the swollen cock.
Ah, how she loved it when he clenched his buttocks like that, like someone in pain.
She began to suck on him, her fingers massaging his balls, reaching behind to touch his buttocks which were firm and clenched, and even though he was stupendously rich, a man that controlled an empire, he was reduced to putty in her hands. When she felt almost certain he was reaching his peak, she pulled away from him and then lay down on the floor, her fingers beckoning to him to come and enter.
As he stood over her, Obi thought to himself that she looked very beautiful, and then he bent forward, his long body bending over hers. He positioned himself atop her, and then he guided his manhood into her. He moved in slowly, her hot heat sucking him in, and she kissed him on his lips as he drove in deeper, till her womanhood had accommodated all of him. They kissed as he began to drive himself into her, and she wrapped her long legs around his waist, their fingers exploring each other’s bodies; his fingers were fondling her breasts, and she was moaning his name.
‘Fuck me hard, baby,’ she whispered into his ear.
She clenched her legs tighter, squeezing him into her more tightly. She wanted to feel him more than she had ever felt him before, for this was different. She was having sex with the man she loved, twisted he may be.
And then he began his sexual dance, his tumescent penis moving in and out of her slowly, his hips controlling the tempo of his thrusts, his lips locked to hers in a deep kiss. His eyes were fixed unblinkingly on her face so he could watch the pleasure as they danced across her face. He moved harder and she moved with him, and he became aware that she was reaching the peak of her pleasure. He pounded her hard, and they rode on the chariot of passion till they reached the top of their pleasure, and then they exploded together. His semen shot into her in a stream as he squeezed his eyes shut and cried out her name.
They lay there on the floor entwined in each other’s arms, and then he fucked her again, and this time, she was on top, her body squeezing down on his, her hands pressed against her breasts, her hips moving up and down as she rode him expertly, and this time, when they exploded into orgasm, she stayed on top of him for a few moments before she lay down beside him.
‘You were great, do you know that?’ Obi asked her, but she planted a wet kiss on his face and said nothing.
ADAMMA BRUSHED DOWN HER HAIR WITH a brush, and then she quickly slipped into a black, floor-length gown she’d brought with her. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and she was strongly aware of the fact that Obi was still feasting his eyes on her. She took a deep breath, and then she turned round to face him. He was still eating her up with his eyes, unaware that she’d slated this to be their last confrontation with each other. Her fingers were trembling, and she was already feeling the onslaught of an attack of headache.
She’d made a second resolution; if he was willing to let her go and stopped dredging up her past life as his instrument of blackmail, or if he was at least willing to come to an agreement with her, then there would be no need for her to do away with him. But if he still chose to continue to be adamant and uncompromising about his stance on what she was in his life, she’d . . . she shuddered as what she’d do momentarily flitted through her mind. It was unthinkable.
She was going to throw him out of her life.
Obi grinned at her lazily. He said, ‘You’re a great woman, do you know that? I couldn’t have wished for something better than what we shared just now. Just say the word, and I’ll have you back here on the bed with me where I’ll rip off your clothes with my teeth and then take you all night long.’
Adamma smiled sadly. ‘Such a pity, but I don’t want to say the word. What I want is a man who’ll care for me and make me and make me feel as if I’m the only girl in the world. You really could love me if you want to.’
‘But just having plain sex with you is also good, yes? You’ve totally bewitched me and I can barely think straight whenever I’m with you.’
‘I am still your wife!’ Adamma said, though she was barely able to keep the anger and panic out of her voice; she’d balled her fists to refrain from lashing out at him. ‘You can choose to be nice to me and very tender. You could choose to stop blackmailing me!’
Obi laughed, and then he patted the fourth finger on his left hand. ‘We’ve been through this a long time ago. You are my wife, but you made sure it was only in name and not in the real sense of the word; you made that clear when you walked out on me and ensured I had no more access to you. Now, what’s that smell? Food? Please serve me; I’m terribly famished and need to eat, so serve me, will you?’
Adamma’s lips were compressed in a grim line as she turned towards the table that had been laden with food, her eyes blazing with fury, her fingers balled into white-knuckled fists. She stood before the table and then she began to dish out the food into two ceramic plates. She stopped and poured some whiskey from a decanter into a glass and then she gulped the spirit down so she could steady her nerves which were aflutter with emotions. She poured another into the glass and turned to her husband, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
She asked him, ‘Honey, do you know what true love means?’
He frowned, and he looked very handsome as he lay there completely naked as the day he was born, doing nothing to cover his nudity. ‘No, I don’t know. Or maybe I think I do. It could mean when a man finds an adorable woman who is far from perfect but who fits in perfectly in his arms and in his body, and then he spends all the time in the world thinking about her and making love to her. It is quite a combination, yes?’
She nodded. ‘It is one of the elements of love but true love entails a lot of sacrifice for that person you love and care about. You could choose to sacrifice that heady pleasure you’re addicted to for the sake of that person. Can you do that? Can you be able to look past the horizon of your pleasure and then consider the welfare of the other party . . .’ of me?
She wanted to add the silent question though she kept mute because she was afraid he’d latch on to what she was thinking and discover what she felt for him, and then what would be her fate? ‘I don’t think you can do that. Here, have this.’ She let out a sigh and then thrust the glass into his arm. ‘Drink up. You’ll need your strength for everything that’s coming to you. And you’ll never expect it.’
Yeah, right. The papers_ the processes_ had already been emailed to her by her lawyer and they sat now in a folder on her hard drive, with the man waiting for her to give the word and then he’d pounce.
He drained the contents of the glass in one gulp and then he lay back on the covers as she began to dish out the food. She filled a plate with fried rice, and then she served him hot coffee and vegetable soup; slices of bread with margarine smeared lavishly on them; there was a basket of fruits, and then orange juice. As she served him, she frowned severely, feeling a strong attack of headache pounding on her head as a myriad of questions swept through her mind.
Was she doing the right thing? Was this the best that she could think of doing? Oh God, had she emailed her lawyer with any instructions?
She felt the panic rise within her but she tried to still it before she keeled over from the onslaught of headache.
When he was eating the food, she sat down on the stool and watched him, and then he finished and went out to the balcony. She joined Obi on the balcony and they looked out at the street.
She seemed to be reading his mind. Today they’d held each other like they used to do, and they’d made love. But he did not trust her; he seemed to be afraid of her beauty; it was too much for him to trust. She was thoughtful as she said, ‘I’m leaving now. I have to go and prepare myself for the Dunn Charity Dinner. I know you’ll be there, and there it’ll end. I am really sorry, my dear, but you’d left me with no choice.’ She kissed him on the forehead as if he was still a baby.
She was going to send her lawyer the instructions to start with the processes right away. The terms of settlement had been drafted already, and she’d be walking away with a lot of money from him when the time came. She had already printed a copy of it for herself, and the problem now, she knew, would be how she could get him to sign the terms of it. She needed his signature.
Turning around, her earrings jingling with every step she took, she walked to the door in slow, measured steps. And then she was out of the room, her feet hurrying down the spiral staircase as she created a distance between herself and her husband. She loved him, but she didn’t want to see him again, not after his mindless degradation of her mind. To him, she was always a whore and not a wife to be cherished for the joy she could provide in his life, a cheap girl who’d somehow manipulated her way into the glittering world of music with her body, and then, into his life. To him, she was a gutter-bred animal, a nobody; she could almost see it in his eyes and hear him saying them out aloud.
She could still feel the loathing he felt for her, though he was a master at masking his emotions so well. She could swear that she could feel the anger he felt for her whenever he touched her, and the thoughts that had always swamped her mind were thoughts of her failure as a wife to him. But had she really been his wife? No, she’d been his wedded whore, though she was cloaked in limelight and stardom and personal achievement_ it was an added bonus for him.
However, whatever he thought of her no longer mattered in any way; they were now of no importance to her because she felt resolute that everything would end as from that night. It was not her fault that she’d found her way into the brothels at such a young age, becoming a dancing flame who ignited the lust of men through her dancing and her singing.
It was the beginning of the end for them.
As she unlocked her car door, she looked up at the motel room, and she saw Obi standing at the window of the room, staring down at her. He was such a handsome man, filled with arrogance and a sex appeal that made women yearn for his touch, she thought drily to herself. It was too bad that their marriage was never meant to be, too bad that he was the very antithesis of what any right-thinking woman would want in a life partner.
And then she got into her car and drove away from the parking lot, watched by her husband.
He then turned back into the room, a frown creasing his brows. There had been something about her there, right before she had gotten into that car and driven away, something that had really gotten to him and trapped him as he stood there watching her, and then she’d gotten into that car and had driven away and the spell had been broken. He tried to picture her living away from him, away from his clutches when he wanted her affections, and an involuntary shudder rippled through him.
He could not tell if what he felt for her was lust, or anger, or loathing, or even love, or all of the above rolled into one package. But the main truth was that she was a piece of flesh that had gotten her face embedded deeply into his mind and into his consciousness, and he could never get rid of her. It was like having something that has formed a core part of you and there is nothing that you can do to dislodge that.
How and why had she been able to breach the gap that had kept his heart firmly protected against the other women that had all tried, at one point in time or the other, to worm their ways into his heart but had failed woefully to do so.
He pictured her, this epitome of beauty who could keep am audience enchanted with her smiles for several hours while she always froze him out with her cold and aloof attitude which she always tried to put on just to show that she was a strong-willed, independent woman who had no time for him. And he smiled wryly to himself. This was the one woman he had ever truly wanted for himself, and by the heavens, he was going to have her to himself when the time was right for him to have her.