Free Frozen Grave by Lee Weeks Page A

He walked over to her and stood behind her, pulling her closer to him, feeling her buttocks nestle into his hips.
    ‘Your paintings are magnificent, beautiful, wild. They make me feel exhilarated. They overwhelm me with passion and excitement.’
    She led him back through the kitchen, champagne bottle back in hand, and upstairs to her bedroom; he ducked to avoid the low beam. It was beautiful, minimal, with white-plastered walls and old
beams.
    Megan poured him another glass of champagne.
    ‘It’s been too long,’ she said as she began undressing. Ellerman studied her. When she was standing naked, he walked across and pushed her back onto the bed. He placed his
hands beneath her and cupped her buttocks, parted her thighs and sucked so violently on her sex that she writhed and squealed beneath his mouth. She tried to push his head away but he stayed until
she orgasmed. He took a swig of champagne and looked at her as she lay in the foetal position, squeezing her hands between her thighs.
    He refilled his glass.
    She turned onto her back and brushed her hair from her eyes as she watched him walk naked round to the other side of the bed. He was semi-erect.
    She crawled to the edge of the bed and went to touch him. He stopped her hand, gently but firmly.
    ‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.
    ‘I want you to be my slave.’ He reached down as she knelt on the edge of the bed and touched her between her thighs: still wet, still swollen and still so sensitive. ‘I want
you to love me so completely. I want to be everything to you.’ He held her and kissed her gently as he slowly made love to her.
    He was just drifting off to sleep, feeling like he was floating in a warm, sex-scented bath, when Megan rolled onto her side and he felt her eyes studying him. He opened his eyes reluctantly and
looked at her. Her eyes were narrowed, focused on his face. He smiled and closed his eyes again, hoping that she would get the hint as he reached out a warm heavy hand and laid it on her thigh.
    ‘So tell me – if I fall for you, what am I letting myself in for?’ she asked.
    ‘As in?’ he said on a sigh, trying not to sound irritated.
    ‘As in – you are separated?’
    ‘Yes, but it’s complicated.’
    She reached for her champagne. ‘Go on.’ She looked at him, waiting.
    Ellerman breathed in deeply, resisted the urge to sound pissed off. He forced himself to sit up, rest back on the pillows.
    ‘I have a son who needs me. My wife’s unstable. I told you about it last time . . .’
    ‘Unstable how? What has she got? She’s bipolar, you said?’
    ‘She’s never been diagnosed with anything but she doesn’t cope well with situations.’
    ‘What kind of situations?’
    ‘Anything really. If I want to talk about
us –
the relationship my wife and I have, or lack of it?’ He looked across to gauge Megan’s reaction. She was resting
on an elbow, watching him intently. He could see his wife in her.
    ‘How is that likely to change in the future?’
    ‘Well . . . because my son is sixteen now. He’s doing his GCSEs. He’ll be going to uni when he’s eighteen, then I can leave.’
    ‘And you think that will realistically happen?’
    ‘Yes. Absolutely. I will have fulfilled my side of the bargain then. I owe it to my son to stay and see him through this part of his life but then . . . when that’s done, I’m
one hundred per cent calling it a day. I’m already doing up the house in preparation. You know, I took on a wonderful old house that needs so much work and now, of course, I need to finish
that work in order to get the best possible price for it when I sell it.’
    ‘Does your wife know that you are dating?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Of course. I expect her to be doing the same thing. We live in the same house but we are most definitely separated. We haven’t had any intimacy for five years.’
    ‘Really? You seem very practised at it, despite that.’
    ‘Glad you think so. Must be